Page 14 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

It was so nice to see Nestor again. I’ve missed him and my mom like crazy.

I love my family dearly, and I would like to see them more often, even living here in Vegas. But I have something important that I’m here to do—and even spending time with Benedikt has been distracting me from it.

Last night, for example.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

I’ve been doing so well, avoiding that exact thing. But the moment he kissed me—once that boundary was broken, there was no going back. I couldn’t get enough of him. He played my body like a musical instrument. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to move, when to slow down and when to speed up.

And this morning when I woke up in his arms, I was angry with myself, because all I wanted to do was have him again, and I can’t let myself slip like that.

My heart is disobeying my mind. Misbehaving, thinking things it shouldn’t.

I have to refocus. The entire reason I came here to Las Vegas was to hunt Miron down—that’s what I need to be doing. Nothing else.

Heading back to Benedikt’s office, I pause outside the door, hearing loud, angry voices from inside. Benedikt is furious, why would he be furious with my brother? I’m about to storm in there when I hear a third voice. The man from the party.

Ardalion Pushkin.

I peek around the corner.

The three of them having a very intense argument about Benedikt not wanting to work with Ardalion, while Nestor tries to reassure him that it’s a good idea because they need all the help they can get to track Miron down.

I have to admit that I’m on Nestor’s side with this one.

The more people we have working on the Miron issue, the sooner we can resolve it.

The sooner I can get my revenge.

Even if I have to wait for them to capture him and sneak into the holding cell—I will be the one to slit that man’s throat.

“Benedikt, just give me a second to talk,” Nestor says, his voice even and calm compared to Ardalion and Benedikt, who are at each other’s throats.

Nestor will make a plan and bring these rivals together. At least for this one project. I don’t know what it is between Benedikt and Ardalion, but they seem to have it out for each other. I wonder if something happened or if it’s just a clash of egos.

Either way, it’s not for me to interfere.

I turn away from the commotion.

Nestor is very good at dealing with situations like that. I’ve seen him defuse arguments before, and I’m confident he’ll bring Benedikt around.

But while my brother has my husband distracted, I want to take a look into Benedikt’s other office, a room just down the hall.

The private one that he’s never taken me into.

Every time I’ve come here with him, I haven’t had a chance to slip away on my own to explore it.

This is the perfect opportunity. I’m dying to know what’s in there.

I’m hoping it’s something that might lead me to Miron. I still don’t know where he’s keeping the investigation files on that asshole.

I walk down the quiet hallway, happy I chose to wear sneakers and not my high heels, as they make it far easier to get by unheard.

Wrapping my hand around the doorknob, I resist the urge to squeal in excitement when I find it isn’t locked.

I glance left, then right, making sure no one is watching, before I slip inside. I leave the door open just a crack so that I can hear if anyone is coming.

The room is small, some kind of storage room rather than an office. There are three walls covered in shelves and one wall with a desk up against it. On the desk, there are several open files, as though someone was working on them and left to come back and finish another time.

I glance at those files first, but it’s bookkeeping. Not what I’m looking for.

Slowly, not wanting to miss any details, I browse the handwritten labels on the spines of each ring binder stacked on the shelves.

The system is labeled alphabetically. The folders list names, dates, transactions, products, deliveries—there is so much information here, it’s overwhelming. And yet, so far, nothing about Miron.

Getting impatient, I grab the ‘G’ file. I can’t be sure if Miron Galkin’s information would be under his first or last name. I’ll start with his last and then move on from there.

I set the heavy file for G down on the desk and start flipping through it, glancing over my shoulder nervously as someone walks past the door.

I pause, tense, but they keep going without noticing that the door is a bit open.

Thank goodness. I breathe a sigh of relief and carry on hunting through the folder.

Page after page, I come up short. His name isn’t even mentioned in here. I suppose Benedikt never worked with him and this must be a list of Benedikt’s clients.

There is absolutely nothing useful under G, and I huff loudly, shoving it back onto the shelf.

I wander over to the M file and trace my finger along the spine.

“What are you doing in here, little fox?”

His voice is deep and makes me jump. I spin around and find Benedikt, watching me. How long has he been there? Long enough to see me put the file back?

“I’m exploring,” I say innocently.

“Really. Exploring. And what are you exploring exactly?” He steps into the room and pulls the door closed behind himself. My heart races as he walks slowly towards me, his eyes dangerous.

He reaches his hand up and leans against the shelf above me, staring down at me with an intense question etched into his face. “What are you looking for, Yana?” he asks again, calling me by my nickname. Hearing him say it makes my heart spin.

I shouldn’t be in here. I should have been quicker. How am I going to explain my way out of this one?

Benedikt isn’t letting this go. I should be scared. His body language is imposing, threatening, his voice is low and domineering. I should feel overpowered and tense, but there is something else in his eyes as they travel down my body, back up and settle on my lips.

The way he’s looking at me is turning me on more than scaring me.

The remnants of last night’s ‘punishment’ are still fresh in my mind.

I keep picturing how he pulled his belt off and bound it around my wrists, restraining me.

How I became his plaything. And how I loved every second of it.

My eyes drift down to the belt he’s wearing now.

It’s the same one. My heart beats a little faster, remembering how massive his cock is and how he knows exactly how to use it.

Stop it, Ulyana, pull yourself together.

I bite my lip and duck out from under his arm, moving away from him before I end up doing something stupid.

“How did your meeting with Ardalion and Nestor go? I saw you guys getting pretty heated in there, so I didn’t want to disturb you.

Did you manage to sort out your differences?

Is he going to work with you on the Miron thing?

” I ask, redirecting the conversation. Just mentioning the other guy’s name is sure to distract him from what I am up to in here.

Benedikt chuckles, quiet amusement spilling from him as he walks towards me again. He tilts his head to the side, studying my face.

“Your subtle ways of distracting me are not as subtle as you think they are, Yana.”

“People earn the right to call me Yana,” I warn him, grinning.

“I am your husband. I’ll do whatever I want with you and your name,” he growls, his voice low and seductive.

I gasp, my lips parting and my eyes narrowing towards him. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” I stammer.

He steps even closer to me and I back up, my ass against the desk. It bumps against the wall and thuds.

He pushes my legs open and steps between them, taking my face in his hand and lifts my face up towards him.

“It works how I want it to work. I’m the one in charge here.”

Benedikt leans down and presses his lips against mine, and whether I intend to or not, I moan with pleasure. I run my hand up his chest as he wraps his arms around my back and pulls me closer.

He tilts his head to the side and pushes his tongue into my mouth. I moan again, my breathing getting heavier, my heart racing.

I thread my fingers up around his neck and pull him into me, wanting more.

He growls against my mouth, sending an exciting thrill racing through me.

I love how much he wants me. His hunger for me makes me feel more desired than I could ever imagine. His hands explore my body, fueling my need for him.

I spread my legs wider, wrapping them around his waist as he lifts me into his arms and turns me away from the desk, pushing me against a shelf.

The kiss becomes more frantic. I’m pulling at his shift, wild with desire, pleasure pulsing through my blood like fire.

“You’re beautiful, Yana,” he whispers against my mouth.

My heart clenches and I dig my nails into his shoulder. He thinks I’m beautiful. I want him to want me because I want him.

I need him.

Somewhere along the line, I started craving his attention and—

Shit.

No.

What is happening?

Shock jolts through me, and I push him away.

“Um, we can’t—someone will catch us in here,” I mutter, taking a massive step away from him, pulling my shirt straight and wiping my hand over my mouth.

Honestly, I don’t give a shit about who might catch us. I would let him take me right here against the shelf. But my heart—my heart isn’t listening to me anymore.

I’m falling for him, and I can’t be falling for him.

The moment emotions get involved, there is the danger of getting hurt, or distracted from what I came here to do.

“I should go home and leave you to work,” I say, smiling tightly, pulling the office door open.

“Yana, I’m done here for the day. I’ll take you home,” he sighs.

I wait tensely out in the hallway, then follow him towards his main office so he can get his things.