Page 10 of Savage Pakhan

“Vodka?” Nikolai grins. “We have the best vodka, Da?” He snags a bottle from the table and twists the top off.

“Can you pour it on his cut?”

“Here?” Nikolai looks left and right.

“We have to kill the germs, and I don’t know where a first aid kit is.”

“Listen to her,” I order in Russian.

Mia keeps my hand still while Nikolai pours the vodka over my wound. I don’t move. I don’t flinch. This cut doesn’t hurt, not in comparison to seeing the cut on Mia’s lip.

She moves her lips to the side, puckering them in deep thought. My gaze zeroes in on her mouth, the way her tongue pokes out every so slightly, wetting her bottom lip while she tries to take care of me.

The perfect shade of pink.

A day wouldn’t go by without me tasting her lips if she were mine.

Mia tightens a fresh napkin around the cut. “You might need a few stitches, but I know you won’t get them,” she smirks, patting my hand with hers.

“Thank you for⁠—”

Pop. Pop. Pop.

I tackle Mia to the floor when gunshots ring out. The glass shatters. More loud cracks of bullets pierce the air. Everyone screams. Chaos erupts.

Nikolia and Viktor jump out of the broken windows to try and get any information from the vehicle that just drove by. Guns drawn, they fire in return.

Mia trembles underneath me and I lie over her, protecting her every second until I get the word from Nikolai that we’re safe.

“It’s okay, Lyubimaya. You’re going to be okay,” I whisper, kissing the back of her head. “I have you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Unlike my son.

“We’re all clear,” Nikolai announces. “Are you okay, Alek?”

I roll Mia to her back and check her over for any gunshot wounds. “Mia, are you hit? Are you okay? Talk to me.” I don’t give a fuck about myself. I only care about Mia.

“I’m okay,” her voice shakes. “I’m okay.”

I look up at Nikolai and hold Mia to my chest. “You find out who did this, now!” I roar.

“Right away,” Nikolai scrambles for his phone and meets with Viktor who is helping guests who are injured.

Sirens ring in the distance. Help is on the way.

I pull out my phone and dial my son, his fiancé against my chest and crying onto my shoulder. “Shh, shh, I have you. You’re safe now.” I stroke my fingers through her hair, hoping she calms enough.

“Ya?” Ivan answers, a feminine giggle in the background.

I grind my teeth. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are not being here for your wife. Where are you?”

“Does it matter? Listen, the contract will be fulfilled but it didn’t say anything about remaining faithful.”

I debate on telling him about the gunshots. Then, I think better of it.

He wouldn’t care.

I snarl, hanging up the phone on him, wondering why I damned this sweet woman to him. He’s changed. From the moment they were engaged, it’s as if he peeled back the layers he was hiding himself in to be the monster he’d been hiding from us all.