Page 2 of The Pakhan’s Forced Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #3)

Months ago, when Benedikt’s mother made the arrangements for my sister, Kira, to marry her son, I wasn’t surprised or offended when he pulled out of the deal. It wasn’t a deal he’d made. He wasn’t even aware of it.

Benedikt Karamazov and I don’t particularly get on very well, but that whole incident didn’t bother me very much. Besides, I figured that Benedikt would know he owed me one after that. It would somehow play in my favor in some future interaction.

However, after we allied to take down Miron Galik, and I quite literally saved his wife’s life, he basically spat in my face and told me to fuck off when I asked for something in return.

That pissed me off.

And anyone who knows me is very aware that I am not the man you want to piss off.

Yes, my temper has an incredibly short fuse. And it quickly escalates to blind rage. But that temper has saved me many times in my line of work.

To run a kingdom, a king must be ruthless. He must act on instinct and let his wild inner beast take over when it needs to.

And Benedikt is about to learn what it means to provoke my inner beast.

Sitting at the corner table of a popular restaurant, I watch Belle Karamazov on a date her mother set up for her.

She’s been on a number of these; I’ve watched her interact with the men, always smiling, polite, appearing to have fun.

But there is an undercurrent. An annoyance, or agitation that suggests she really doesn’t want to be there.

This particular date is probably the worst of the lot. This guy looks like someone needs to hold him under a shower and scrub him. He’s creepy, and even though he isn’t actually dirty, he looks it. Greasy.

I pick up my vodka, swirling the drink in my hand before I take a sip.

Belle is wearing a gorgeous black dress that dips low over her ample cleavage. She’s a beautiful girl. The kind of girl this guy would never be able to pull.

She’s elegant, womanly and voluptuous. She’s the kind of girl whose ass I want to slap and then watch it bounce while I take her from behind.

I shake my head, taking another sip of vodka.

That’s not what I’m here for. I don’t know why I keep getting distracted by lusty thoughts while scouting her. I’m here to exact revenge on her brother. That’s it.

I can have any woman I want. I didn’t choose her because I wanted her—I chose her because of her brother.

I guess that doesn’t stop me from thinking she looks like a goddess.

Belle stands up, politely excusing herself from what appears to be the most boring conversation on the planet.

I wish I could hear what they were talking about, but I chose a seat further away. I’m not sure if Belle will recognize me, but I assume so, considering I own Los Angeles.

She turns away from the table, walking towards the ladies' room. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Everything is in place for me to carry out my plan tonight. I’ve been patient, waiting, and tracking her movements—and finally, tonight, I am going to take her.

My guys are waiting out back with the car ready.

My heart beats faster as I stand up from my table and stalk after her, like a hunter following its prey.

It’s a thrilling feeling.

I’ve hunted men before. Obviously , I’ve chased down enemies and torn them to pieces.

But this, for some reason, is more exciting.

Stalking a beautiful woman, knowing she has no idea what I have planned for her.

She disappears into the bathroom, and I radio my men waiting outside, telling them to be ready while I wait in the passageway, out of the way, near the door to the men’s bathroom.

While I wait, I think about Benedikt. His arrogance. He had a chance to make things right with me. He could have worked with me to show gratitude for the help I gave him, help that saved the love of his life.

But he didn’t.

After he so rudely rejected my suggestions, I started messing with his operations. Small things, minor, because I didn’t want to upset the greater alliance I have with Nestor. I value that alliance. But I also didn’t want Benedikt to walk away free without repercussions for his rudeness.

But the minor issues I was causing for Benedikt didn’t seem to bother him, and they gave me no sense of satisfaction. I couldn’t just leave it at that.

He wasn’t learning any lesson. And I want him to know that he shouldn’t mess with a man like me. He said no to the wrong man when he turned me down, and it’s time I showed him what the consequences of saying no to me are.

That’s why I’m kidnapping his sister, his sweet little sister whom I know he loves dearly. He’s always been close with her and extremely protective of her. Everyone knows it. No one would dare to mess with her. No one except me.

Going after his family is going to devastate him.

And that’s the consequence he is going to have to live with.

The bathroom door opens, and I move towards it. Belle steps out. She’s looking down and doesn’t see me, so she walks right into me. Instinctively, I reach out to steady her, my hand on her waist, heat between us, my prey within my grasp.

She looks up at me with bright blue eyes that catch me off guard. “Sorry,” she says, as sweet as honey, with a soft smile on her face.

I clench my jaw and set my eyes tightly on her. I don’t like the way my body responds to her. Focus. Get her out of here.

But instead of moving immediately, I can’t help but toy with her.

“You should pay more attention to where you’re going, darling. You don’t want to bump into the wrong person,” I say darkly.

To my surprise, she laughs. Her eyes study me for a moment before she rolls them and replies, “I’ll do that.”

I drop my hand because touching her is messing with me. She tries to step around me, and I step in her way; she steps the other direction, and we end up moving together.

The sweetest giggle falls from her lips, and she takes a purposeful step away from me.

No, little bunny, you aren’t going anywhere.

I follow her, backing her up against the wall and pinning her there beneath my body. She’s a curvy girl, by no means petite, but trapped beneath me, she might as well be a flower, small and delicate.

The thought of having my way with her flares through my mind again.

“Um. Sorry ,” she blurts out, more of a suggestion that I should be saying sorry, not her.

I press my hand into the wall above her head, savoring the shocked look on her face and the way her soft breasts are pressing into me.

She takes in a sharp breath, and her perfectly heart-shaped lips, painted erotically red, fall open as she looks at me in disbelief.

“How is your date going, Belle?” I ask softly, a hint of danger in my voice as I give away the fact that I know her.

At first, she doesn’t register it. “It’s, um, it’s horrible, um—"

There it is. Her eyes flaring, her lips pressed together. She bites her lower lip and knits her brows. “Who are you?” she stutters.

“Mm. You don’t know? I’m a little disappointed,” I growl darkly. Truly disappointed, in fact, she should know me. Everyone should know me.

“Are you going to introduce yourself, or are we going to stay stuck to this wall all night instead?” she sasses. Not scared. Why isn’t she scared of me, a stranger, tall, dark, imposing?

I snarl, my lips curling in annoyance. This isn't going according to my plan. I expected fear. Panic. Anything other than snarky little comments.

“We’ll see if you’re still smiling in a moment,” I snap, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the wall as my man steps in behind her and quickly wraps duct tape over her mouth. I have to get her out of here without drawing attention.

Her eyes flare again; this time, I do see fear, and it sends a thrill of satisfaction racing through me.

That’s right, little bunny, you should be afraid. Bunnies don’t play well with grizzly bears.

Her scream is muffled as Drake throws a bag over her face, and I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder.

I wrap my hand over her ass to hold her there, distracted again, fantasizing about letting my fingers drift between her thighs.

Drake tilts his head towards the back door. “Let’s go.”

I nod, following him out into the night.

He jogs ahead and opens the back door.

I flip Belle in my arms and throw her onto the back seat, sliding in behind her. Drake climbs into the driver’s seat and the car revs loudly, then the wheels spin against tar as we take off in a hurry.

Belle sits quietly, not fighting me in any way.

For a moment, I panic, thinking she might have passed out if Drake put the tape on wrong and she can’t breathe. I grab the hood and tug it off her head.

It pulls her hair loose from the high bun it was in, and thick, caramel brown curls fall over her shoulders, tussled and messy.

Her blue eyes move onto me, and my gaze locks with hers.

She tilts her head to the side and raises her brows, but still makes no attempt to fight or get away.

My annoyance flares. I grab the tape and rip it off her mouth; it pulls some of her red lipstick with it. Her skin is rosy where the tape was.

“You can scream now,” I snarl. “No one will hear.”

She bites her lip and narrows her eyes. “Then what would the point be?”

“Do you really not know who I am? If you did, you would not be so calm, Belle.”

She huffs out a sigh and shrugs. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are.”

“My name is Ardalion Pushkin,” I say, my voice low and menacing.

She nods, nothing else. No reaction, no panic. What the fuck?

I clench my jaw and look forward. “How long till we get there?” I snap at Drake.

“Ten minutes,” he answers immediately.

Turning my face away from her, I stare out the window. It bothers me that she isn’t trembling, but it’s irrelevant. I didn’t take her to scare her; I took her in a revenge plot against her brother.

Her feelings on the matter are inconsequential.

It shouldn’t bother me that isn’t scared.

But it does.

I look at her again, and she’s watching me. Her blue eyes are bright and sharp as they trace over my face.

It must be shock. She hasn’t realized what’s going on yet.

Or she’s just smart. There’s nowhere to run in the car. Nowhere to go. Perhaps she’s waiting for the right time to fight back.

I shouldn’t underestimate her.

We drive in silence. I watch her from the corner of my eye, intrigue and curiosity flowing through me. Benedikt might have trained her for this type of situation.

But being in one is very different from roleplaying a scenario.

Drake parks outside an office building in Las Vegas. He is a contact of mine, one from Los Angeles, whom I flew in for this exact purpose.

“Come,” I say to Belle, taking her arm and pulling her across the seat to follow me.

“What is this place?” she asks.

“No questions,” I snap.

Once this part is over, everything will be in place, and we’ll fly back home.

“Call the pilot. Update him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Drake stays with the car, and Belle and I walk into the building. We take the elevator up to the seventh floor, to a temporary office, where Matvey is waiting for me.

Belle looks curious as I push her inside. Matvey nods in greeting.

“Are we ready?” I ask.

“Yes, everything is ready. I’ve set it up over here at the table. You’ll both need to sign.” He moves out from behind the desk and leads us to a glass table. Belle stays where she is, so I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her along with me, shoving her into a chair at the table.

She looks at the papers that I slide in front of her.

“Sign,” I growl, pushing a pen into her hand.

She looks at the pen and back at the papers.

“Sign,” I say more sternly, grabbing her hand and placing it on the paperwork.

She turns her head towards me, a curious smile on her lips—and to my disbelief, she giggles.

It spills from her lips like summer rain. Light and carefree.

My mouth drops open.

Of all the reactions I was prepared for, this was not one of them.

“Sign it,” I say again, but the command has slipped from my voice. I straighten my back and square my shoulders. “Sign it or I will make you sign it,” I growl darkly, ensuring she understands the risk of disobeying me.

Belle tilts her head to the side and smiles again, then quickly scribbles her signature on the marriage certificate.

I grab the pen from her in annoyance and sign as well.

“Is that it? Are we done?” I ask Matvey.

He nods. “That’s it. You two are officially married. I’ll file the paperwork tonight, and to anyone who looks into it, this is a legal and binding document.”