Page 24 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

I pause outside the mansion, standing with my hand on the car door, waiting.

But he doesn’t chase after me.

The front door doesn’t open, Benedikt doesn’t walk through it to come and call me back. I choke back a sob and swallow away the tightness in my throat.

I only wanted him to tell me he trusted me. I wanted him to say sorry for the accusations and to stop smothering me.

If he followed me out here and told me he was wrong, I would have come back inside. I didn’t want to leave him in the first place.

But the longer I stand here waiting for him, the more of a fool I become. And the deeper the hurt gets. He’s not coming, Ulyana. Accept it. Leave.

I tug the car door open and climb inside, my heart sinking low into the pit of my stomach as I start the engine and with one last glance in the rearview mirror, one last thread of hope that he would come after me.

I drive away.

I thought we were past the trust issues. I thought that he understood why I hadn’t told him. Because I’d never told anyone, it was a deep hurt, a deep fear that I’d always carried alone.

After I shared the truth with him, I thought he understood, but clearly, he didn’t.

I drive through Vegas, not sure where to go, until I finally stop at a well-known hotel, a luxurious place with good security. I’ll be safe here. It’s somewhere to lie low until I can figure out what to do.

I leave the car with the parking attendant and pick up my own bag, carrying it into the foyer.

It’s a statement hotel, luxurious with gold walls and mirrored tiles that cover the massive pillars towering over the reception desk.

A young man with a crisp blue and gold suit smiles at me as I set my purse on the counter.

“Good afternoon, miss. Would you like to check in?”

“I don’t have a reservation. Do you have a room available?” I ask, hopeful.

“We do—it’s not the penthouse, which seems to be where a lady of your standing would prefer to stay.”

I smirk, these guys are all the same, trying to get you to want the most expensive of things, chase luxury and status.

“Any room will be fine, I’m happy with something small and comfortable.”

He purses his lips in disapproval, realizing I’m not one of those girls here to flash wealth.

I grew up with wealth. I married wealth, even though money wasn’t exactly part of the decision.

Wealth doesn’t mean much to me.

What means a lot to me is connection, safety— Benedikt.

“Alright, we have a standard room on the fourth floor.”

He says ‘standard’ as though the word might be poisonous.

I chuckle. “Sounds great.”

He takes my credit card and completes the booking before sliding my card and the key across to me. “Do enjoy your stay. And if you want to upgrade at any time, just ask for me.”

I nod, picking up my things again and heading towards the elevator. I wave away the man that tries to help me carry my bag. It’s small enough, and I want to be alone.

In the room I dump everything at the door and flop down onto the bed, letting out a long, frustrated moan.

“What are you going to do now, Ulyana?” I ask, rolling onto my back. I wrap my hand over my belly. “What do you want to do, baby?” I ask.

Knowing the answer, I scoot to the edge of the bed and pick up the room service menu. I saw a restaurant downstairs, but I’m not in the mood for people or noise. I’ll be perfectly happy to curl up under the blankets, eat dinner alone and fall asleep.

Hopefully in the morning I’ll be able to decide the best course of action. Maybe it’s time for me to go back to San Francisco.

The thought sets a knot in my stomach. I don’t like the idea of leaving Benedikt.

Selecting my option from the menu, I dial reception and order the tagliatelle and a crème br?lée for dessert. Then I wait.

And while I wait, I stare at the ceiling, and I think.

I think about everything we said to each other, how brutal it was, how nasty. I said the most horrible things to him. I didn’t mean it. I don’t think he meant it either. It was just in the heat of the moment.

My food arrives.

The guy smiles polity and sets it up on the table by the window.

I wait for him to leave.

Then I lie on my bed again and think.

I was angry enough with Benedikt that I might not have been entirely fair.

He’s been keeping me locked up in the house, yes, but didn’t he have good reason to worry about me going out alone? It wasn’t an irrational reaction to want me to go places with him instead.

Miron has already proven that he might show up anywhere. And last time I bumped into him I was alone—and it was terrifying. Benedikt is only trying to save me from that exact situation happening again.

I groan and press my hands into my eyes. There is a slow and steady headache building there, and I’m starting to realize it’s all my fault.

But he doesn’t trust you , my mind taunts.

Yes, but he has good reason not to trust me. I already broke his trust. I lied. It doesn’t matter why I did it. I did it. And he’s worried that my thirst for revenge will cause me to do it again.

Trust is a two way street. Once broken, I have to earn it back.

If I’d been a little more patient with him I could have had the chance to do that.

I groan again, rolling to the edge of the bed, annoyed with myself. I don’t want to be here alone, eating dinner in a hotel room when I could be at home with my husband—the man who has shown me nothing but patience and understanding.

He didn’t chase me, because I’m the one who has to do the chasing and apologizing this time.

He said some ugly things, but so did I. and he tries to say sorry.

I know it was in the heat of the moment and we were both frustrated.

But dammit, I was in the wrong. I should never have compared him to Miron.

Miron was a monster with selfish, horrible intentions.

Benedikt was only trying to keep me safe.

His intention all along was to look out for me.

It’s not the same thing and it was harsh of me to accuse him of being like Miron.

Running away wasn’t ever going to be the answer. It was unfair, and if I want to find a solution with him, to fix this mess—I have to be there and willing to work with him.

I have to go home.

As soon as I decide that, my body feels lighter. My heart flutters, thinking of seeing him.

I love him.

The thought comes out of nowhere.

And instantly I know it’s true.

I love him and I want to make this work. I’ll do whatever he asks me to do until the Miron thing is over. I love him, I don’t want to lose him.

Jumping up, ready to grab my things and leave, there is a knock at the door.

A massive smile breaks out over my face. He tracked the car, and he followed me after all. I rush to the hotel door and tug it open, ready to jump into his arms and tell him how sorry I am.

But it’s not Benedikt.

It’s Miron.

I yelp in fright and move to slam the door closed again. But Miron steps forward, blocking it. He grabs the edge of the door and shoves it hard with his body weight.

He’s not as tall as Benedikt, but he’s solid, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fight him.

When he steps into the hotel room and closes the door behind himself, I scurry backwards, searching the room for a weapon.

“Finally, my love, we get to be alone,” he says, grinning like a maniac.

“Miron, please leave,” I say as calmly and politely as I can.

“Mm. No. Not unless you leave with me. We can get out of Las Vegas, we can go far away, get married—we can finally be together,” he says, walking towards me with his hand reached out.

I wince away from him, scrambling over the bed, wondering if the bathroom door locks and if I could hide in there.

He sees me glancing at it and sneers.

I only have this one chance.

I dive towards it, racing against him, just reaching it as he grabs me and lifts me off my feet. He throws me across the room, onto the bed.

I open my mouth to scream and he throws himself onto me, locking his hand over my mouth. His breath is hot against my face as his body pins me to the bed.

That smile.

It’s a smile I’ve seen on his face a hundred times, and it terrifies me to my core.

I try to squirm out from beneath him, screaming muffled sounds against his hand, but it’s no use.

He kicks my legs open, forcing himself between them. I claw at his face and he grabs my hands one at a time, forcing them behind my back and pinning them there with the weight of his body.

“Don’t you see, Ulyana? We were always meant to be together. But if I can’t keep you as my wife, I will still have you—and then, after I’ve felt what it’s like to take you, in any way I want—I will kill you so that no one else can ever have you again.”

I try to shake my head, my tears spilling against his hand strapped over my face.

“Well, if you don’t want to die, then marry me,” he growls.

“Imagine the look on your brother’s face.

Ha.” He snorts laughter. “And your husband. That man never deserved you, Ulyana. I deserve you. No one else.” He thrusts his hips forward, rubbing his cock against me, and I whimper in disgust and fear.

“ Mm, yes, make those beautiful sounds. I know you love this. I know you want this, little bird,” he whispers against my cheek, and I choke in disgust.

He’s completely delusional. His obsession has no limits, and right now I’m convinced he will kill me if I don’t do what he says.

“You are my prize, beautiful girl. The prize I win when I take over the world. I will be the most powerful man, with you at my side.”

He thrusts his hips forward again, slower this time, my body is repulsed, nauseated as he rocks against me.

I’m trapped.