Page 90 of The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride

"No." Emil's hand closes around my wrist, gentle but firm. "You're not going anywhere near him."

"The hell I'm not." I try to pull away, but he doesn't let go. "He's out there destroying my name, telling everyone I'm some kind of criminal. I have to stop him."

"I'll have my men take care of it." His voice is calm and controlled. The voice of a man who's used to solving problems with violence. "By tomorrow morning, he won't be a problem anymore."

The implication in his words makes my blood run cold. "No."

"Kiera—"

"No." I yank my wrist free and step back, putting distance between us. "I don't care what you do in your life, Emil. I don't care about your business or your world. But I will not be part of hurting someone. Not even indirectly. Not even to him."

His eyes narrow. "He's trying to ruin you."

"I know that." My hands are shaking, so I cross my arms over my chest. "But I won't have blood on my hands. I won't be responsible for someone getting hurt or killed, no matter what they've done to me."

We stare at each other for a long moment. I can see the frustration in his face, the desire to just handle this his way and be done with it. But something in my expression must convince him because he finally sighs.

"Then what do you want to do?"

An idea forms in my mind. It's Friday night. Arnie always went to the same club on Friday nights when we were together. If he's looking for me, trying to draw me out, he'll probably be there.

"It's Friday," I say. "There's a club downtown he always goes to."

Emil's expression darkens. "You want to go there."

"I want to confront him. Face-to-face. Tell him to stop spreading lies and leave me alone." I move closer to Emil, looking up at him. "Let me try it my way first. Please."

"I don't like it."

"I know. But I need closure. I need to look him in the eye and tell him it's over. That he doesn't get to control my life anymore." My voice softens. "Please, Emil. Let me do this."

He studies my face for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then he reaches up and cups my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin.

"Fine. We'll go to the club. But my men come with us, and if things go wrong, we do it my way."

Relief floods through me. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." His hand drops away. "Get dressed, and wear something nice." He grins like a cat that just found a bowl full of cream. "And sexy. If we're going to a club, we might as well look good doing it."

Two hours later, I'm standing in front of my mirror, barely recognizing myself. The dress is one Emil had delivered to my room last week, a deep emerald green that hugs my curves and ends mid-thigh. The neckline dips low enough to be sexy without being obscene, and the fabric shimmers when I move.

I've done my makeup carefully, with smoky dark eyes and red lips. My short red hair is styled in soft waves that frame my face. The diamond necklace Emil gave me sits against my collarbone.

When I walk out of my room, Emil is waiting in the hallway. His eyes travel slowly down my body and back up, and the heat in his gaze makes my skin flush.

"Fucking beautiful," he says, his voice rough.

"You don't look so bad yourself."

He's changed into black slacks and a dark gray shirt that fits him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular build. His hair is styled back, and his beard is neatly trimmed. He looks dangerous and sophisticated all at once.

The drive to the club is tense. Luca is driving with another guard in the passenger seat. Two more vehicles follow behind us, filled with Emil's men. I try not to think about the fact that I'm going to a club with a small army as backup.

"Remember the plan," Emil says as we pull up to the club. "You go to the bathroom. I follow at a distance. If Arnie approaches you, you talk to him. But the moment I think you're in danger, I'm stepping in."

"I know."

"And if he touches you⁠—"