Page 56 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

I place the bet for her, and we settle in to watch the race.

The moment the gates open, Kiera leans forward, her eyes locked on the track. Midnight Runner starts strong, taking an early lead. Kiera's hands grip the armrests of her chair, her body tense with anticipation.

"Come on," she whispers. "Come on."

The horses thunder around the first turn, and Midnight Runner falls back to third place. Kiera makes a small sound of disappointment.

But then, in the final stretch, the horse surges forward. The jockey leans low over its neck, urging it on. Midnight Runner pulls ahead, neck and neck with the leader.

"Yes!" Kiera jumps to her feet. "Yes, come on!"

Midnight Runner crosses the finish line half a length ahead of the competition.

Kiera spins toward me, her face lit up with pure joy. "I won! Did you see that? I actually won!"

The transformation is stunning. Gone is the angry, defensive woman from this morning. In her place is someone vibrant and alive, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement, her smile wide and genuine.

This is the woman I saw dancing at the club. The one who caught my attention and wouldn't let go.

"You did," I say, unable to keep the satisfaction out of my voice.

She bets on two more races, losing one and winning another. Each time, she gets more animated, more engaged. She studies the racing forms, asks questions about the horses and jockeys, and debates her choices out loud.

Watching her is better than any race.

After the fourth race, I stand. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"I need to check on something."

I lead her through a private corridor to the back offices. The security here is tighter, with armed guards at every door. Kiera notices, her earlier excitement dimming slightly.

Inside the counting room, several of my men are sorting through stacks of cash. They look up when we enter, immediately straightening.

"Pakhan," one of them says.

"Report," I say.

He rattles off the day's numbers. How much was bet, how much was won, how much the house took. Then he moves on to the debts. Three people owe significant amounts. Two have payment plans in place. One is late.

"How late?" I ask.

"Two weeks."

"Send someone to remind him of the terms."

"Yes, Pakhan."

I review the rest of the numbers, sign off on a few documents, then lead Kiera back out. She's quiet now, the reality of my world settling over her again.

"This is what you do," she says as we walk back to the car. It's not a question.

"Part of it."

"And the man who's late on his payment. What happens to him?"

"He gets a reminder. If he still doesn't pay, the consequences escalate."