Page 26 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

They're arguing about me and what decisions I should make.

I grab a pillow and shove it over my head, pressing it down hard enough to muffle the sounds. The darkness behind my eyelids is a relief. The weight of the pillow is comforting.

Slowly, finally, exhaustion wins out over the racing thoughts and the distant argument. My body relaxes into the mattress. My breathing evens out, and I fall asleep.

When I wake up, sunlight is streaming through my bedroom window.

And all four of my brothers are standing around my bed.

I jolt upright, my heart hammering. "What the hell?"

Jack steps forward. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept. None of them look like they've slept. "Emil and Luca are stationed outside."

"Stationed?" I repeat stupidly, still half-asleep and completely confused.

"Outside your apartment," Kevin clarifies. "They've been there all night."

I blink at them, trying to process this information. "Why?"

Jack's expression is serious, more serious than I've ever seen it. He sits down on the edge of my bed, and the mattress dips under his weight.

"We need to talk," he says quietly. "You need to understand who Emil really is."

12

EMIL

Idisconnect the call without bothering to listen to whatever bullshit excuse the man is trying to feed me. That's the fifth call this morning, and the sun's barely crept over the horizon. My phone immediately buzzes again, but I silence it and toss it onto the passenger seat.

I should be at the estate. There's a shipment coming in that needs my attention, contracts to review, and at least three men waiting for orders. Instead, I'm sitting in my car like some lovesick fool, watching the dark windows of Kiera's apartment building.

Playing fucking guard duty.

My eyes never leave her building. Second floor, second window from the left. I've memorized every detail of this place in the hours I've been sitting here. The cracked brick near the entrance. The flickering streetlight that needs replacing.

Kiera's brothers think they can protect her. They're wrong.

The Walker brothers are decent enough, I suppose. They care about their sister. But caring isn't enough when someone's already taken a shot at her. When there's a target on her back.

My phone buzzes again. I glance at the screen. Luca.

I answer this time. "What?"

"Good morning to you too, boss." Luca's voice is dry, amused. "I'm guessing you're still playing stalker outside her apartment?"

"I'm ensuring that she's safe."

"Right. That's what we're calling it." I hear papers rustling on his end. "I've got updates on the shooter."

My grip tightens on the phone. "Talk."

"We've got three teams out. One is working contacts on the docks. The second is leaning on the Italians, seeing if this is some kind of territorial bullshit. And the third is shaking down every two-bit punk who might've heard something."

"And?"

"Nothing solid yet. But we'll find them." Luca pauses. "When we do, what do you want done?"

I don't hesitate. "Bring them to me. Alive. I want to know who sent them, and then I want to make an example that'll be remembered for the next decade."