Page 36 of Claimed By the Pakhan

Feeling better than when I first walked in, I head to my study and continue investigating the person inside of my Bratva who is leaking private information.

Could that be the same person who knocked Fia unconscious earlier?

I curl my hand into a fist, the knuckles crackling.

I log into the portal, flicking between different live feeds of the docks. Unloading seems to be in working order. I switch between cameras, viewing footage of the operations room, the trucks, ensuring they’re parked in the right places; the rail lines; the two huge cargo ships sailing into the bay are both scheduled to dock in the next few minutes.

Everything seems ordinary…

Until I rewind the footage, covering the hour where Fia was there. After aggressively clicking through different feeds, I finally find her, tugging her suede jacket close, frowning, like my dockyard is one big puzzle to her.

Before she can solve the puzzle, the black figure appears in the corner of the frame, looking left and right before charging. By the time Fia realizes, it’s too late. One hit to her temple sends her crashing to the ground, her back hitting solid concrete.

Anger courses through my veins as I watch the man drag her away, out of frame.

I slam the keyboard, the footage turning static.Bylat.

I should have placed more cameras in the dockyard. Left no stone unturned. I’d have more answers if I went heavier on CCTV, but I never saw the point in having cameras spread everywhere. I put them in important locations only, where enemies are most likely to strike.

Leaning forward, I click through the different feeds, searching for movement. All sixteen cameras give me nothing, apart from the operations room where Luka is handing Fia the hot cocoa.

I sit back in the chair, the leathers squeaking. Every inch of that man’s skin was covered, his face hidden behind a mask, his fingers concealed by black gloves.

This isn’t the work of the Kuzmin’s, since they love to show their face. The only person coward enough to cover up and take a hit at my wife is one of my own.

12

FIA

Thunder booms through the atmosphere,reverberating across the forest. I glance out of the window, now fearing for my life for several reasons. I don’t stand a fighting chance if one of these trees gets struck by lightning.

I come away from the window, rain pattering on the roof. “Is it safe to be in the middle of a forest during a storm? It sounds like it’s getting close.”

“It’s perfectly safe.” Emil flashes me a reassuring smile, but everything he does turns sexual, causing my heart to start beating for a different reason.

I tuck myself into the dining table, picking up my knife and fork. Emil sits across from me, crunching on vegetables, slicing meat. My focus is on the steak. Emil slices it up, shoveling it straight in his mouth without hesitation.

All I can think about is the man he killed.

I glance at my own plate, squishing the fork into the meat, analyzing the texture. I push it to one side, deciding that from this day forward, I’m going to be a vegetarian.

“You should eat the meat,” says Emil, gesturing to it with his fork. “It’s a special cut.”

Oh, I’m sure.

“I’m not that hungry, thanks,” I say, keeping my eyes stapled to the plate.

The sky flashes white again, followed only a second later by crackling thunder. I jump, the fork leaving my hand and clanging against the ceramic plate.

Emil peers up at me. “You sure you didn’t see who hit you at the dockyard?”

“How many more times will you ask this question?”

“Until I have my answer,” says Emil, swiping his hair away from his face. He looks visibly shaken, rising from the table as soon as he’s done eating.

I watch him leave, my eyes gravitating to his ass. I’m in trouble if it’s anything like the rest of his body.

I sip water from a wine glass, smoothing a hand over my baby bump. The twins need to eat. It’s selfish of me to take my hatred on Emil out on them.