Page 22 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

Because I've been in this life since I was sixteen years old. Because I know the difference between random violence and calculated hits. Because I can smell danger the way other men smell perfume.

But I can't tell her any of that.

"I just know." I stand, moving toward her bedroom. "You can't stay here."

"Emil, wait." She follows me, and I'm acutely aware of her presence behind me as I check her bedroom window. Same problem. Easy access. The lock is barely functional. "I'm not going anywhere. This is my home."

"Your home has multiple easy entry points." I test the window lock, and it gives with barely any pressure. "Fuck. This one doesn't even latch properly."

I move to her bathroom, checking that window too. It's smaller, but still accessible. The whole apartment is a goddamn invitation for anyone who wants to break in.

"So I'll get them fixed," she says from the doorway.

"That's not going to be enough." I turn to face her, and she's standing there with her arms crossed under those perfect breasts, her chin lifted in defiance. The defensive posture should put me off, but instead it makes me want to crowd her against the wall and kiss that stubborn look off her face.

"You need professional security. You need to be somewhere safe until we figure out who's behind this."

"We?" She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "There is no we, Emil."

"Kiera." I take a step toward her. "Listen to me."

"No, you listen to me." Her voice is getting stronger now, the shock wearing off and being replaced by that spunky attitude I'm starting to recognize. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I'm not some damsel in distress who needs rescuing. I'll call the police, file a report, and they'll handle it. My brother can handle it."

"The police can't protect you."

"And you can?"

Yes. Absolutely. With every resource at my disposal, with every man in my organization, with my own life if necessary.

But I can't say that either. She still has no clue what I am. No idea that I'm Bratva, that I run the most powerful organization in America and could have an army surrounding this building within the hour.

Before I can respond, the apartment door bursts open with enough force to rattle the frame.

Four men pour inside, all of them with the same red hair and protective fury radiating off them in waves.

Her brothers.

Luca follows behind them, and when he catches my eye, he shrugs. The gesture clearly says it was either let them in or shoot them, and while I appreciate his restraint, I'm not thrilled about the invasion.

"Kiera!" The oldest brother spots her immediately and crosses the room in three long strides. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kevin." She tries to step around me, but I don't move. I'm not letting her brothers crowd her, not when she's still processing everything.

"Fine?" The cop, Jack, is right behind Kevin. He's got that alert, assessing look that all cops get, his eyes taking in every detail of the scene. His gaze lingers on me for a moment, suspicious. "There's a bullet hole in your doorframe. That's not fine."

"It missed me." Kiera's voice is small now, and I hate hearing her sound so vulnerable.

"Jesus Christ." The one with long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, Devin, runs a hand over his face. "This is insane."

"Are you hurt?" The lankiest one, Kaleb, asks gently. "Did you get checked out?"

"I'm fine," Kiera repeats. "Really. I'm just shaken up."

Jack is already in full cop mode, pulling out a small notebook from his pocket. "Kiera, I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Start from the beginning. Where were you when you heard the shot?"

"I was outside, talking to Arnie."

"Talking?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.