Page 57 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"Like what you did to that man last night."

"Yes."

She doesn't say anything else, but I can see her processing it, trying to reconcile the man who just let her bet on horses and celebrated her wins with the man who breaks bones without hesitation.

By the time we arrive at the restaurant for dinner, the sun is setting. The place is one of mine, an upscale Italian establishment with white tablecloths and candlelight. The kind of place where reservations are booked months in advance.

We're stopped three times on the way to our table by business associates who want to shake my hand and make small talk. I keep the conversations brief, my hand never leaving Kiera's back.

Finally, we reach the VIP section, a private table in the corner, secluded from the main dining room but with a view of the city lights through the windows.

"Let me guess," Kiera says as we sit. "You own this too."

"This and four others in the city."

She picks up the menu, scanning it without really reading. "Is there anything you don't own?"

"Not much."

The waiter appears with wine, pours it without being asked, then disappears. The service here is impeccable. They know better than to hover when I'm dining.

We order, and the food arrives quickly, perfectly prepared, beautifully presented. Kiera eats slowly, methodically, like she's thinking about something.

The day has been a success, I think. She's seen more of my world, and that it's not all violence and threats. There's luxury here too. Power. Influence. Things she can enjoy as my wife.

She's accepting her fate. Accepting this life.

Dessert arrives. Tiramisu for her, espresso for me.

Kiera takes a bite, then sets down her fork and looks at me directly.

"If I'm going to be forced into this marriage," she says, her voice steady and clear, "there are going to be some ground rules."

25

KIERA

Iwatch Emil's face carefully as I say the words. His expression doesn't change. He just takes a sip of his espresso and sets the cup down with deliberate precision.

"Ground rules," he repeats, his voice neutral.

"Yes." I straighten my spine, refusing to be intimidated. "If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to marry you and live in your world, then there are things that need to be established."

He leans back in his chair, studying me with those dark eyes. "I'm listening."

My heart is pounding, but I force myself to continue. "First, my family and friends are off limits. Completely. You don't threaten them, you don't hurt them, you don't use them as leverage against me. Ever."

"Agreed."

The quick response surprises me, but he adds a stipulation.

"Unless they do something that requires my… special attention," he qualifies. When I open my mouth to retort, he shakes his head. "This is non-negotiable. I'll play fair as long as they do."

After a moment, I nod. I guess that's the best I'm going to get. "Second, my brothers can visit me whenever they want. I'm not going to be cut off from them."

Emil's jaw tightens slightly. "With restrictions."

"What kind of restrictions?"