Page 42 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"Whoever this was," Luca says quietly, "they're a professional."

19

KIERA

I'm not looking forward to this.

Saturday mornings at Devin's gym have been part of my routine for years, but today, I'd rather be anywhere else. My brothers are going to have questions. Lots of them. And I don't have good answers.

The moment I walk through the glass doors, Devin spots me. He's behind the front desk, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, and the look on his face tells me everything I need to know. This isn't going to be a casual workout morning.

"Kiera." His voice is tight. "Let's go to my office."

I don't even get a chance to set down my gym bag before he's steering me toward one of the private offices in the back. The door closes behind us with a decisive click, and he turns to face me, his expression somewhere between concern and frustration.

"What the hell is going on with you and Emil Nikitin?"

I drop my bag on the floor and cross my arms, mirroring his stance. "Nothing is going on."

"Bullshit." Devin runs a hand through his short hair. "A man like him doesn't just suddenly decide you're going to be his wife. And then you were shot at! God, Kiera, this is a mess."

"Well, that's exactly what happened," I snap. "I already told you the story. I don't have anything new that you haven't already heard to tell you."

The office door opens and Kaleb walks in with his husband, Mark, right behind him. Great. An intervention.

"Hey, Sis." Kaleb's tone is lighter than Devin's, but I can see the worry in his eyes. "We need to talk."

Mark gives me a sympathetic smile and closes the door. At least he looks apologetic about ambushing me.

"There's nothing to talk about," I say for what feels like the hundredth time.

Kaleb leans against the wall, his hands in his pockets. "Look, we're not trying to gang up on you. We just want to understand what's happening. This guy is serious, Kiera. He's not some random boyfriend you can break up with when things get complicated."

"I know that."

"Do you?" Devin's voice rises. "Because from where I'm standing, you're in way over your head. The man is a Pakhan. Do you even know what that means?"

"Yes, Devin. I know what it means." My voice comes out sharper than I intend. "I'm not an idiot."

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Mark asks gently. "Because he doesn't seem like the type to just let this go."

I sink into one of the chairs, suddenly exhausted. "I've told him I'm not marrying him. Multiple times. He's persistent."

"Persistent." Devin laughs, but there's no humor in it. "That's one word for it."

Kaleb moves closer, crouching down so he's at eye level with me. "We're worried about you. That's all. We just want to make sure you're safe."

"I'm safe." The words feel hollow even as I say them. Am I safe? I don't know anymore.

We talk in circles for another twenty minutes. They ask questions I can't answer, and I give reassurances I'm not sure I believe. Eventually, Devin sighs and straightens up.

"All right. Let's just work out. Clear our heads."

I'm grateful for the reprieve.

The next two hours pass in a blur of weights and cardio. Devin pushes me harder than usual, probably working out his frustration, but I don't complain. It feels good to focus on something physical, something I can control. We finish with a few rounds of racquetball, and by the time we're done, I'm sweating and breathless, and my muscles ache in that satisfying way that comes from a good workout.

Kaleb and Mark say their goodbyes in the lobby, both of them hugging me tight and making me promise to call if I need anything. Devin walks me to the door, his hand on my shoulder.