Page 71 of Claimed By the Pakhan

“Sure,” she says, her voice small. “I understand.”

Of course, she fucking does. Having the house to herself means she can chance an escape, and this one might be her riskiest yet, with everything out in the open.

“I’m not sure you do, Fia. You’re pregnant with our children and Seattle is riddled with Alexander’s men at the moment. I really need you to stay here.”

Pain flashes across her face, a tear wanting to fall. She bats her lashes, preventing the tear from escaping…

Refusing to show weakness in the face of power.

I slip my phone, making some calls to my men. I need a team guarding the premises until I return. They need to watch Fia, make sure she stays here.

Fia watches me make the calls, pity written across her face. “I feel sorry for you,” she says. “I feel sorry for both of us.” She folds her arms over her chest, her eyes welling with tears. “Two broken pieces don’t make a whole. When will we learn?”

Fia seeing herself as broken hurts my heart in many different places. But I am the fucked up one, taking after my father.

I rake a hand through my hair. I can drown in my misery later when Luka is dealt with. His betrayal should cut deep, considering we’ve been friends for decades and I always trusted him with my life, but my love for Fia cuts deeper than the hatred I hold toward Luka.

“We can discuss things later when Alexander and Luka have been taken down. But for the time being, I need you here. My guards will keep you safe.”

I stride across the kitchen, unsheathing my knife, rinsing it under the faucet to scrub off the dried blood. Securing it back under my belt, I head upstairs, opening the cabinet to select my most powerful gun. Chambering a round of bullets into the ammunition, I sense Fia watching from behind.

I turn over my shoulder, her eyes still fixated on the gun. She stares at the weapon vacantly, like she’s experiencing another flashback.

“Why couldn’t you tell me the truth before?”

“Because I knew you would run far away, perhaps even out of state, where my enemies would still find you, since they appear to have eyes and ears fucking everywhere,” I say. “But above all else, I was selfish and couldn’t stomach the thought of living my life without you,” I say, clenching my jaw.

The pained look on Fia’s face suggests I’m only making things worse, so I shut up, secure the catch and tuck the gun into my pocket, ready to make Alexander and Luka pay. Even if I pay with my life, it will be worth it to see Fia live in a world where she can finally be freed from the shackles of the Bratva, and me.

“This ends before sunrise.”

“And what if I never see you again?”

“Then you get your freedom back,” I say.

26

FIA

Sunlight streams through the trees,blinding me. I wink open an eye in bed. I must have fallen asleep at some point, fuck knows when.

The memory of last night comes flooding back, splitting my heart open all over again as I grieve my husband. The vicious cycle of finding him, falling in love with him, just to lose him all over again will kill me in the end, and this morning, I know I’m on my deathbed.

He said this would be over by sunrise, but the house is still silent. I rise from the bed, peering out of the window. A guard moves through the trees like a raven, gun at his hip, eyes searching for trouble.

Love is a curse that is impossible to break, even when you hate the man. I suppose this is how my mother felt toward my father every time he hit her. The love outweighed the pain.

I change clothes, having fallen asleep in the ones from yesterday, and fix my appearance quickly in the mirror, yanking a brush through my hair, washing my face with cold water to give myselfa well needed reality check. The reflection in the mirror still resembles an exhausted woman who is losing the will to live. I’m only here because the twins need me. I’m the vessel keeping them alive.

I head downstairs, holding onto the banister as the world breaks around me, remembering Emil’s explosive reaction from last night. My head is split into two. One side of my brain feels flattered about the kidnapping and forced marriage, since it shows he cares, that I’m finally special enough for someone to want to do those things. The opposing, more rational side of my brain counteracts the fuzzy feeling with fear, telling me to get the fuck away.

The past three years of my life have been a battle between emotions and rationality. If I run away, will Emil find me and kidnap me all over again, the cycle beginning anew?

My gut clenches with another realization. He could be dead.

I land into the kitchen with a thud, gasping when I read the time on the wall. 8 a.m. is the middle of the morning for Emil, since he enjoys waking up at the crack of dawn.

I rush outside, the two guards stationed there turning right my way. “Where is he?”