Page 17 of The Pakhan’s Forced Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #3)

I can’t believe I’ve been called away again.

This was quickly becoming the most perfect day, sitting on the grass with Belle, enjoying the sun and this amazing picnic she arranged just for me.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the effort she put into it.

I assumed that maybe she’d take me for lunch somewhere.

Something normal, or easy. But she went out of her way to make the date special.

I was being truthful when I told her that no one has ever done something like that for me before.

I’m the one who plans things. I’m the one who has to take control and the one who looks after everyone else.

My family relies on me. Everyone at work relies on me to tell them what to do.

People don’t do things for me—not like this.

I don’t ever get the opportunity to not have to think about things and just sit back and enjoy the experience.

Most of the time, I really don’t mind. I like being in control. But having Belle make the effort for me—it’s unexpected, and I’m disappointed to be called away and put an end to the perfect morning.

I walk across the lawn towards my car, leaving Belle behind in the warm sunshine alone.

There is a smile on my face as I push my hands into my pockets.

She was even ready for those pesky seagulls.

People who don’t live near the beach don’t know how crazy they get.

It was hilarious when they came down on her like a pack of savages to grab her donut.

I enjoyed how she huddled against me for protection.

I glance over my shoulder to steal one last glance at her in the distance. She’s standing next to the picnic spot, her beautiful yellow sundress dancing in the breeze.

She looks as pretty as ever.

Sighing, I duck into my car and press the button on the dashboard to start the engine. It growls to life and I pull out of the parking area with my windows down, heading towards my office.

***

Nestor was only supposed to arrive in LA on Monday, but he’s here today instead because some shit went down, and that group of rivals attacked again.

Emmanuil is still in the city, so he’s going to join as well, and we can try and come up with some kind of immediate solution to this issue without involving the previous generation of leaders and all their politics and ego issues.

The last video meeting is a fine example of how everyone has an opinion, and nothing gets concluded. A waste of time.

I don’t want to waste another day where I’ve been pulled away from a lovely moment with Belle to sit in a pointless meeting.

But this one should be fine. It’s just Nestor, Emmanuil, and me. They aren’t like the others.

My cousin and Nestor are waiting in my office. It’s not far, and I get there within fifteen minutes of taking Nestor’s call.

The elevator carries me up to the top floor of my building.

On the ride up, I study my reflection in the mirrored walls.

My hair is tussled. My eyes have a shine to them that’s not usually there.

My shoulders are relaxed, the sleeves of my shirt half rolled up over my forearms, and the shadow of stubble over my jaw gives me a rugged, but easy-going energy.

I haven’t looked this stress-free in ages—I don’t even remember how long it’s been.

This is because of Belle. Nothing else in my life has changed except for her becoming a part of it. She has this effect on me.

I don’t want to let her go.

The elevator doors slide open into a quiet office space. My employees are off enjoying their weekend. It’ll only be us here in my office, discussing the issues.

I step onto the wooden floors, and my footsteps echo through the empty space as I walk.

Voices carry down the hall from my office.

Emmanuil is always loud. And I recognize Nestor’s laugh as I get closer.

But a third voice has me stopped dead in my tracks.

Fuck .

It can’t be. This is bad. Very bad.

Closing my eyes, I swear under my breath. I take a moment to compose myself, then step into my office with my head held high.

“Ard, great, you’re here. We can get started,” Emmanuil says happily.

“Hi Nestor, Emmanuil.” I turn to the third man standing in my office. “Benedikt. Welcome to LA.”

He nods, his mouth pulled tight. “Ardalion,” he says by way of greeting. No smile, no friendliness in his tone.

What the fuck is he doing here? Why isn’t he out looking for his sister in Phoenix? I even made sure that word on the street was still pointing at that other rival.

“Does anyone want coffee or anything before we start?” I ask, needing an excuse to step out even though I’ve just arrived. I did not expect to see him here. It’s a bit of a shock, and I don’t want the other guys to notice.

“No, we're keen to get going so we can get through it as quickly as possible,” Nestor says, sitting down on one of the sofas around the coffee table in the corner near the window.

“Alright,” I say, tense, nervous, but determined to hide it.

I sit next to Emmanuil, and Benedikt sits opposite me, alongside Nestor.

Nestor dumps a file of papers onto the coffee table.

“This is a full report of the attack that took place in the early hours of yesterday morning. They hit several warehouses in one night. Two in San Francisco and three in Las Vegas. We assume they’ll be targeting San Diego and LA next, so we want to be prepared and hopefully catch them in the act. ”

He opens the file and shifts papers around, looking for a specific document and a map.

The map he unfolds stretches out over most of the table. The other document he dumps on top.

“These are the attack points and key notes on their systemic attack methods. We want to use these when we plan our defense.”

Everyone leans forward to examine the information.

Nestor starts pointing out each detail and talking us through what happened.

Benedikt’s eyes constantly drift towards me as the meeting progresses.

I have this anxious sense that he can read my thoughts, which is ridiculous.

The guy has never liked me, and I’ve never liked him, so obviously, he’d be shooting me these annoyed glances.

It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be hostile towards me.

But I’m hiding a massive secret, and I’m worried it's written all over my face in bold letters.

“We can put an extra team at the two biggest warehouses along the docks here,” Emmanuil says, leaning over a map and tapping his finger at a spot that indicates my biggest warehouse near a popular shipping port.

I glance out of the window, looking towards the ocean and that exact warehouse.

It’s a small dot in the distance, but visible from here.

“I have a team available,” I remark, trying to stay focused on the meeting and not Belle’s brother.

I still can’t get over the fact that he’s here.

It’s a massive risk. And I had Belle out in the open with me this morning.

She’s been roaming the city freely. He could have spotted her at any time, and I would have lost her without warning.

I’m not ready for this. I clench my jaw and let out a frustrated sigh.

Emmanuil glances at me, his brow furrowed.

I don’t react, so he returns his attention to the meeting.

“Are we predicting another dual attack? LA and San Diego in one strike?” Emmanuil asks, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.

“We should play it safe and say yes. The more prepared we are, the more likely we’ll be to catch these assholes and put an end to this,” Nestor replies.

“Fair enough. Well, I have two teams I can put in my most lucrative spots. I wouldn’t mind an extra team, though, if someone has one available.”

“I’ll send my men down to San Diego,” Benedikt says.

“I plan to stick around in LA for a week or two, so I can help set up here with Ardalion,” Nestor remarks.

Over the course of two hours or so, we plan out a decent preemptive plan of defense against these assholes. It’s crazy they’ve managed to get this far without being caught already. I put it down to the fact that I’ve been distracted by Belle, and Benedikt has been distracted by searching for her.

But now we’re ready. It’s a solid plan, and near the end of it, I’m relieved that the meeting is coming to a close.

I can’t sit here with Benedikt for a moment longer.

I’m desperate to get back home and check in with Belle.

I need to make an excuse for why she can’t go out for a few days. Just until Benedikt has left LA.

Hopefully, he isn’t planning to stay as long as Nestor.

“The other issue I want to discuss is my sister, Belle,” Benedikt says, glancing at each of us.

My throat goes dry. “She’s been missing for over a month, and I have zero decent leads.

Everything has come up empty. I’m sick with worry, and I need to ask for you guys' help. We’ve been so focused on Phoenix, as everything pointed there, but it’s time to start looking in our own territories.

I need each of you to agree to my men carrying out an investigation in your city. ”

“I think we should focus on one thing at a time,” I snap, trying to change the subject back to the original discussion. The last thing I need is for Nestor and Emmanuil to start helping him or for teams of Benedikt’s men to be hunting for her in LA.

Emmanuil’s guys have already unknowingly seen me with her at that event. If he starts circulating images of her, it’s going to quickly come back to me.

“Excuse me?” Benedikt snarls, glaring at me.

“I’m just saying, the attacks are an immediate danger. We should focus on that?”

“And my sister, missing for this long—that isn’t an immediate danger? She could be holed up in some basement somewhere, starving, tortured—what the fuck are you talking about, telling me I shouldn’t treat that as a priority?” He’s fuming, standing up and towering over me.

I stand up too, refusing to let him overpower me.

“You’re being fucking dramatic,” I snarl.

“Dramatic? What the fuck is wrong with you, Ardalion? I always knew you were a fucking asshole, but this is next-level ignorance.”

“Will you two please step back and take a breather?” Nestor asks, trying to get in between us.

Emmanuil is hovering, watching the chaos build. “Guys, settle down,” he huffs. “This is stupid. We don’t need to be fighting between ourselves.”

Neither Benedikt nor I pay any attention to them. I’ve stormed away from the coffee table into a more open space in my office, trying to get away from Benedikt’s stare. I can’t stand looking at that guy.

But he’s followed me, not letting this go.

“What if one of your sisters went missing? Imagine you came to me for help and I told you it wasn’t important,” he snaps at me.

Bitter laughter bursts from my lips. “When I saved your wife, you made it seem like it meant nothing,” I shot back at him. “I was responsible for her being rescued—you made that seem like it was trivial, but you’re here now, asking for my help again.”

“I don’t fucking want anything from you. I was talking to my allies , not some smug rat who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

“For fuck's sake, can we please fucking calm down?” Nestor shouts, throwing his hands in the air, frustrated and annoyed. “Or should I just let you two idiots duel it out?” he says sarcastically.

Movement at the door of my office has everyone spinning to see who’s just walked in.

My heart sinks right into the pit of my stomach. My throat closes.

My lungs scream, unable to take in a breath of air as my body goes rigid with anxiety.

Belle is standing in the doorway with a picnic basket slung over her arm, the smile on her face frozen in place, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which are wide with surprise.

I open my mouth to say something, but at this point, what can I say? It’s too late. She’s here. He’s seen her. Everyone has seen her, and they all look equally shocked as they stare between Belle, her brother, and me.

Belle takes another step into the office, the picnic basket dropping from her grasp and falling to the floor at her feet. A bottle of champagne rolls out of it, across the office floor.

This is the worst possible thing that could have happened. How can I keep her with me now? What is going to happen? Is he going to take her back to Vegas? Is this the last time I ’ ll see her? Questions and fears spin through my mind.

I don’t have a single answer to ease my anxiety.

“Ben?” she murmurs, her eyes locked onto her brother’s face. He doesn’t answer her, though. He looks furious, even as his eyes trace over her. He says nothing. Whatever reunion she was hoping for when she saw her brother again, this isn’t it.

Benedikt turns away from his sister, spinning towards me.

“ What the fuck is this ?” he shouts, drawing his gun and aiming it right at my head. I move quickly as well, mine drawn and pointed right back at him. The safety is off. I’m not taking any chances.

We stand rigid, our weapons pointed at each other as the room becomes tenser by the second.

The silence is deafening. Neither of us moves. Nestor and Emmanuil are frozen in place, trying to figure out what the fuck to do. They’re on high alert, not sure if one wrong word will trigger a shoot-out.

No one makes a sound.

I can hear my heart beating in my ears, the blood pumping so loud that it’s almost distracting. My eyes are locked onto Benedikt’s, filled with rage and hostility.

“What are you doing?” Belle squeals, terrified. “Stop this at once!”