Page 69 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"You need to rest."

"I'm the Pakhan. I don't get to take the day off to lie in bed."

We make our way slowly through the estate, Kiera supporting me more than I'd like to admit. She keeps glancing at me, her expression shifting between anger and worry. Sometimes I think I see something else. Pride, maybe? But that's probably wishful thinking.

When we reach the library, I sink into one of the leather chairs near the fireplace. Kiera hovers nearby, her hands fluttering like she wants to help but doesn't know how.

"Let me help you to your room," she says again.

"No."

"Emil, you can barely walk."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're hurt and stubborn and⁠—"

"I need to work." I lean back in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. "I have business to handle. Calls to make. The organization doesn't stop because I'm bruised."

She crosses her arms, and I can see the frustration in her face. But there's worry there too. Real worry.

A wicked idea forms in my mind, and despite the pain, I can't help the gleam that enters my eyes.

"Of course," I say slowly, "if you want to spend the afternoon in bed with me, I might be persuaded to rest."

Her face flushes red. "You're impossible."

"I'm practical."

"You're an asshole."

"That too."

She glares at me, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Good. I'd rather have her angry than worried.

"Go find Luca," I tell her. "Tell him I want you to practice sparring with him. Self-defense training. I want you to be able to protect yourself."

"I don't need⁠—"

"Yes, you do." My voice comes out harder than I intend. "Someone tried to kill you, Kiera. Someone's still out there, and until I find them, you need to know how to defend yourself."

She opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. Finally, she nods.

"Fine. But you'd better actually rest while I'm gone."

"I'll rest," I lie.

She gives me one more worried look, then leaves. The moment the door closes behind her, I pull out my phone and start making calls.

Twenty minutes later, my captains file into the library. "Report," I say without preamble. "Any leads on the shooter who targeted Kiera at her apartment?"

They exchange glances. "We've been canvassing the area, Pakhan," one of the captains said. "Talking to informants. Checking security footage from nearby buildings."

"And?"

"Nothing yet."

Frustration burns through me, hot and sharp. "Nothing? It's been days."