Page 72 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

When she finishes, he turns to me. "What do you want?"

"Something small. Just family and close friends. No gold and white color scheme. No hundreds of roses. No statement."

"The organization expects⁠—"

"I don't care what they expect," I cut him off. "This is my wedding too. If I have to go through with it, I should at least get some say in how it happens."

Emil studies me for a long moment. I can see him weighing options, calculating consequences. Finally, he looks at the planner.

"Find a middle ground," he says. "Keep it formal enough to satisfy tradition, but scale it back. Smaller guest list. Simpler decorations. Work with what Kiera wants."

"But Pakhan⁠—"

"That's an order."

The planner's mouth snaps shut. She nods stiffly and starts gathering her samples.

"No," I say. Both of them look at me. "No middle ground. The least you can do is let me have the wedding I want. Not some compromise. Not some watered-down version of what your organization expects. What I want."

Emil's jaw tightens. For a moment, I think he's going to argue. Then he nods once, sharp and final.

"Do what she says," he tells the planner.

The woman looks like she might faint, but she nods and quickly packs up her things. The moment she's gone, Emil turns to me.

"Anything else?"

"No."

He studies me for another moment, then leaves without another word.

I stand there in the empty sitting room, my heart pounding. I won, I think. I actually won something.

It's a small victory, but right now, I'll take what I can get.

I head upstairs and take a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the tension from the fittings and arguments. When I'm done, I dress in comfortable clothes and make my way downstairs. I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Food, maybe. Or just a change of scenery from my bedroom.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear voices coming from the main living room. Multiple voices. Women's voices.

I pause, curiosity overriding caution, and move quietly toward the sound.

When I reach the doorway, I freeze.

Emil is sitting in one of the leather armchairs, relaxed and commanding, while several women are arranged around him on the sofas and chairs. They're all beautiful, all dressed in expensive clothes, and all looking at him with expressions that range from admiration to outright hunger.

It looks like a lord holding court to a bunch of ladies.

30

EMIL

Iwalk into the living room expecting peace and quiet, maybe a drink before dinner, and instead I'm greeted by a disappointing scene.

Five women are sitting in my living room. Waiting for me.

Fuck.

Didn't they get the memo that I'm off the market? Or maybe they don't care? I announced my engagement weeks ago. The whole damn city knows I'm marrying Kiera Walker in less than three weeks.