Page 89 of His Forced Bride

"Explain what happened."

"It was a bomb, sir. Customers and staff were injured. Emergency crews are on the scene."

Kozlov is escalating beyond his previous business dispute with my son.

This has to be retaliation for my threats, and I'm not going to stand for it.

"How many are hurt?"

"Unknown, sir. The paramedics are still pulling people out of the building."

His posture shifts as he squares his shoulders.

His expression changes too, as if he's awaiting orders now like a good soldier.

I'm already standing and moving toward the door.

"Bring the car and call ahead to clear traffic."

Inessa waits in the hallway outside her room, her face pale but composed.

Rosa must've told her already, and judging by the jacket she is wearing, she will insist on coming along.

I don't bother trying to stop her this time.

She falls into step beside me, understanding that answers will come when we reach Primorsky.

The drive takes thirty-eight minutes through afternoon traffic.

Inessa sits rigidly in the seat, staring through the windshield at the road ahead.

Her hands rest folded in her lap, but I catch the slight tremor in her fingers.

I want to tell her she's safe, that my men will make sure no one touches her, but I hold back and instead let the silence speak.

"How many?"

Her voice is unsteady.

"I need to know who was hurt."

"Seven injured. Three of them are critical. It could've been worse."

I answer evenly, though it cuts me to see her hurt.

I can appreciate that she knows every single one of her employees personally.

It's something that humbles me—that she's more devoted to her staff than I could ever be.

She closes her eyes, wincing at the number, and when she opens them again there is raw grief in her gaze.

I rest my hand over hers, steadying the tremor.

A protective instinct burns through me at the sight of her pain.

I would carry it for her if I could.

But I can't.