Page 26 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

All the way home, I keep looking across the car to see if she’s okay. If I don’t stop doing this, I’m going to crash the car, but I’m worried about her. She shouldn’t be smiling. She should be horrified after what just happened.

Every time I ask her, she tells me that she’s okay. But how can she be? I’m not okay. How can she be okay?

The image of Miron on top of her—how helpless she was to whatever he was going to do—it’s aching inside of me like poison.

I want to bring him back to life just so that I can kill him again.

I’ve never, in all my years, hated a man as strongly as I hate him.

I would kill him a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough to appease the anger I have towards him.

He hurt her.

He took that peace from her.

My fingers tighten around the steering wheel and I pull my eyes back to the road. It’s dark and Las Vegas is alive with neon lights.

He’s dead. He’s gone. You can let it go.

But can she?

What scars is she going to carry from what he did today?

But as I glance at her again, she looks my way and smiles.

Not a sad or tight smile. It’s genuine. Its light and easy-going.

Her eyes are shining, reflecting the neon lights. Her face is happy, despite the red marks on her skin from where he was holding her down. Silencing her screams.

My stomach churns.

You got there in time, Benedikt. You stopped it. It didn ’ t happen. Stop thinking about it.

I reach out and place my hand on her leg.

She pulls my jacket tighter around her shoulders, snuggling into it, tilting her head to sniff the fabric she smiles again.

“It smells like you,” she muses.

She might be in shock. It might be why she’s handling this so well. She was looking right at Miron when he died. That asshole even tried to say his last words to her—with a knife pushed straight through his tongue and into his skull, he still thought he could speak to her.

“Ulyana, it’s okay if you’re not okay,” I say, worried about her.

She smiles again and shakes her head.

“You don’t get it. Maybe I don’t either—but right now I feel like someone lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders.

You . You did it. I feel light and happy and— free .

” She closes her eyes for a moment and scrunches her nose, tilting her head back as though she was enjoying a summer breeze on her cheeks.

“But you just saw a man die,” I argue. “I’ve seen men die, and I know a particularly brutal death when it happens—" I clear my throat, swallowing hard.

That was a fucking brutal death. It was really horrific.

I snapped his spine. The agony was all over his face.

I could have left it at that, but I still pushed that knife through his skull.

She looks down at my hand on her leg and shakes her head.

She threads her fingers through mine, holding my hand tight, squeezing it as though she wants to comfort me, to let me know she’s really okay despite everything.

When she looks at me, her eyes are cold, but deadly serious.

“That wasn’t a man, Benedikt. That was a monster. And that monster got exactly what he deserved.”

***

At home, I run Ulyana a hot bubble bath, pouring almost half the bottle of bubbles into it along with two cups of Epsom salts.

She can tell me she’s alright, but at some point, the shock of it all is going to wear off and her emotions are going to crash in on her. I will be here when that happens. I will be here for her, and I will help her find her way back to herself.

I will hold her through every moment of it.

I get that she believes she’s happy about his being gone. But watching a man die—that leaves a scar on your soul. It reaches deep into you and steals a part of you.

Or maybe it’s because I am the killer.

I don’t feel bad about killing him, though.

Maybe that’s what I’m not getting. The same way I would kill him again—she would want to watch him die again. To have that confirmation. To watch his pain after the years of pain he’s caused her.

Maybe, after all of this, she really is okay.

Ulyana is right about him, though. He wasn’t a man, he was a monster, and he got what he deserved. I would do it again, given half the chance.

“The water is really hot,” I warn her as she lets her clothes drop to the floor, standing next to the bath, naked and beautiful. My eyes trace over her body, noticing the bruises painted on her smooth skin.

I clench my jaw, my shoulders tensing.

She knits her brows and follows my gaze to see the bruises on her arms, and her hip.

She touches the blue marks gently, not flinching. She smiles again, taking me by surprise.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” I ask her.

“This is all I walked away with. I consider myself incredibly lucky, Ben. It could have been so much—and it wasn’t. Because I had you watching out for me.”

She steps over the edge of the bath and shudders as the hot water touches her foot.

“Too hot?” I ask, reaching for her.

“No, it’s perfect.” My eyes don’t leave her as she sinks slowly into the bubbles, letting them engulf her.

My wife is strong. She is as strong as she is beautiful.

She is an enigma that I am still learning.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I groan. Glancing at the screen, I see Ardalion’s name flashing across it. I can’t ignore this call.

I need to thank him for the information he shared.

It turns out that being in a temporary alliance with him paid off—he’s the reason Ulyana is here with me now, unharmed.

If he hadn’t told me Miron was seen going into that hotel, I might have left Ulyana to spend the night there, respecting her need for space.

Flicking the screen, I answer the call on speaker.

“Ardalion, I’m glad you called,” I say, my eyes on my wife, soaking in the hot tub, looking peaceful and relaxed.

“I just heard about the siltation with your precious little lady. I heard you got there just in time, thanks to the tip I shared with you.”

Not wanting to disturb Ulyana’s peace and quiet, I step out of the bathroom and sit on the edge of our bed, my body tired from the adrenaline slowly fading out of my blood.

“That’s true, I did. And that’s why I’m glad you called. I wanted to say thank you,” I reply.

He laughs, but it sounds off. He doesn’t sound happy for me, or happy he could help. He sounds like he just got told he won something.

I ignore his laughter and carry on talking. “So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for your help with this matter. I appreciate it. My family is safe thanks to your information.”

He laughs again, making me regret the heartfelt, meaningful thanks I just gave him, and I ask, “Is there something amusing that I’m not understanding? My wife almost died tonight. Nothing about this situation is funny.”

“Saying thank you is one thing, but at the end of the day, it’s the value of what I did for you that needs to be paid back to me. In full .”

Is he kidding me right now?

“That’s not how an alliance works, Ardalion. Even a temporary one. We both benefit from Miron being gone—it’s the reason you agreed to be a part of this in the first place. There was never a reward discussed. Like I said, that’s not how it works.”

He’s pissing me off.

I bite down on the building anger, reminding myself that he really was the reason I reached Ulyana in time. Even if he’s being an asshole now.

“Mm. Sometimes the way things work isn’t the best way—and honestly, don’t you think you owe me more than words. As a thank you? Isn’t what you got out of it worth it?”

“My wife’s life? You want something equal to the value of my wife’s life?” I sigh, shaking my head, frustrated to be having this conversation after such a long night. I should’ve ignored the call. I should’ve known better.

Ardalion is being stupid. He could have used my gratitude to form a stronger alliance, to play it cool, benefiting over the long game. But instead he’s just reminding me again why I despise him and never wanted an alliance in the first place.

“Correct,” Ardalion says, assuming he’s getting somewhere in this negotiation that isn’t a negotiation at all.

“And what do you think is a fair ‘thank you’ for honoring your side of the alliance?” I say, emphasizing the original agreement again.

“I want a portion of Las Vegas,” he says confidently.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I huff. The words are out of my mouth before I can filter them into something more diplomatic. Then I think, fuck it, this guy’s a fucking moron asking for a piece of my kingdom for simply doing his part in an alliance.

“I’m not sure why you think this would be something I’d joke about,” Ardalion snaps, annoyed with my response.

“Ardalion, let me be very clear to you. You run your kingdom there in Los Angeles, and I run my kingdom here in Las Vegas. You have more than enough territory, and more than enough to keep you busy. Stay on your side of the line. Don’t piss me off and don’t push your luck.”

He likes that response even less and lets out a low growl from the other side of the line. “You fucking agreed to the alliance, too.”

“Well, the alliance is over. The transaction is concluded. Miron is dead. For Nestor’s sake, because he is an honorable man and I value his business and his friendship, I am willing to be reasonable with you and cooperate with certain things that we can discuss when you’ve come to your senses.

But in the meantime, things are exactly as they were before Miron was ever part of the picture. ”

“You’re making a mistake, Benedikt. I deserve a piece of your land,” he shouts, angrily.

“Deserve?” I laugh. “Have a good evening, Ardalion. Send my greeting to your sister, I hear you’re still looking for a husband for her. That poor girl deserves better than you.”

He takes in a sharp breath, ready to tear me to pieces with his reply, but before he has a chance to say anything, I hang up.

I can’t help the low chuckle that escapes me, savoring the moment of pissing him off. It’s childish of me, after everything that happened last night. But dammit, that man infuriates me.