Page 41 of Claimed By the Pakhan

Fia is going nowhere.

I relax my shoulders, loosening up. The world, not even Fia herself, will deny me from what has always belonged to me.

14

FIA

“If you run,you make it worse,” threatens my father from downstairs, his voice reverberating through the entire house.

I curl up into a ball, hiding underneath the covers in a poor attempt to drown out the noise. My hands are clamped over my ears, my eyes screwed shut, and I can still hear every little detail, picturing Mom on the floor wasting away, covered in bruises that she’ll try and hide tomorrow when she knocks on my door, asking to borrow my concealer.

My father won’t let her wear makeup, saying she looks best natural.

“I hate you with every fiber of my being,” she says, fighting back, refusing to give in. “One day, you’ll find yourself alone and begin hitting yourself to keep the sick obsession alive.”

Chair legs scrape against the kitchen floor as my father pushes Mom into the table, my eyes stinging with tears.

“You’re okay, Fia,” says a soothing voice, interrupting the scene.

I come around from the dream with my hands clamped around my ears, knees brought up to my chest as I lie in the fetal position, shaking.

Sweat trickles down my back. Waking up, I realize my pajamas are completely drenched, like someone dunked me in a swimming pool.

And then gasp when I see who’s watching me.

Much to my surprise, it isn’t Emil. He’s usually topless, staring down at me, wearing his usual stoic expression as he reads my face. I’ll refuse to tell him about my dream, which will lead to him embracing me in a hug.

His gigantic arms would feel amazing wrapped around my body right now, holding me up, but I find myself staring at Luka instead, who looks just as concerned.

Perhaps even more.

I sit up in bed. “Why… are you here?” I consult the time on the nightstand. “It’s almost 3 a.m.”

“I know,” he says, bowing his head respectfully. “I apologize for bursting in here, but I heard you screaming and I thought someone had broken in.”

“I didn’t know you were staying the night.”

“Neither did I, until Emil asked me to stay here while he went out to investigate the docks.”

“Did something happen?”

“Not yet,” reassures Luka. “But he only has so many surveillance cameras. He’s trying to find out who’s leaking information to Alexander.”

“What?” I burst out, sitting up in bed.

Luka narrows his eyes. “Emil hasn’t told you?” He covers his mouth. “Shit, my bad.” He turns on his heel, walking toward the door.

“You dropped a bomb and now you’re gonna leave?” I call after him. “You can explain yourself first.”

“There’s a reason Emil probably decided not to tell you.”

“Of course,” I huff. “To keep me safe. That seems to be the common denominator in all of this. I have some mild amnesia. I’m not clinically insane.”

“No…” says Luka, halting in the door. He narrows his eyes down on me again, searching my face. “Before I tell you anything, I need you to promise me that this information will stay inside of the Bratva. No running and telling your friends.”

“Like I can even see my friends right now,” I mutter, folding my arms over my chest. “Fine, you have my word. Now tell me.”

Luka is just as dramatic as Emil, clenching his jaw, tiptoeing around secrets like they’re worth diamonds.