The Pakhan’s Accidental Bride (Sins of the Bratva #6)

1. Kiera

KIERA

Istare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, smoothing down the black dress that hugs my curves. My breasts look fantastic, and my legs seem to go on for miles in these heels. But none of it matters if I'm too terrified to leave my apartment.

"Kiera! Come on, we're going to be late!" Sarah calls from the living room.

I grip the edge of the sink, the cool porcelain grounding me. I can do this. It's just one night. One night of pretending to be normal again.

"Just a minute!" I call back, my voice steadier than I feel.

My hands shake slightly as I apply another coat of mascara. I hate this. Hate that Arnie still has this power over me, even though I ended things months ago. The thought of going to a club makes my heart race and my palms sweat, which is ridiculous. I used to love going out.

Breaking up with him should've been the end of it. Four months ago, I finally walked away after he cracked my rib and I admitted the truth I'd been avoiding. He wasn't going to change, and I deserved better than living in fear. But with Arnie, nothing's ever that simple.

He showed up at my apartment at two in the morning, pounding on the door until my neighbors complained.

He called from different numbers after I changed mine, his voice alternating between pleading and threatening.

He waited outside my office building until security had to escort him away.

For weeks, he made sure I knew he wasn't going anywhere.

But it's been a month now. A whole month without a single sign of him. Maybe he finally got the message. Maybe I can actually have a life again.

Maybe.

"Kiera Walker, if you don't get your ass out here right now, we're coming in there!" That's Jess, and she absolutely means it.

I grab my clutch and head out before they can make good on the threat. Sarah and Jess are waiting by the door, both dressed to kill and grinning at me like they've just won the lottery.

"Finally," Sarah says, looking me up and down with approval. "You look hot."

"I look like I'm trying too hard," I mutter.

"You look like a woman who's ready to have a good time," Jess corrects, linking her arm through mine. "Which is exactly what you're going to do tonight. No arguments."

I want to argue anyway. Going out feels dangerous, even though I haven't seen any sign of Arnie in weeks. I can't shake the feeling that he's still out there somewhere, watching and waiting.

"I don't know," I start.

"Nope. No backing out now. You promised." Sarah grabs her purse and heads for the door.

"I didn't actually promise. You two ambushed me at work yesterday and wouldn't leave until I agreed."

"Exactly. You agreed. That's basically a promise." Jess squeezes my arm, her expression softening. "Look, I know you're scared. But you can't let him win, Kiera. You can't let him take your whole life away."

The words hit harder than I expect. She's right. Arnie has taken everything. My confidence, my freedom, my ability to enjoy a simple night out with my friends. I've been hiding since we split, and what has it gotten me? Nothing but more fear and more isolation.

"It's been a while since you've seen him," Sarah says gently, reading my mind like she always does. "That's a good sign, right? Maybe he finally got the message."

I nod, though I'm not sure I believe it.

Arnie's never been good at taking no for an answer.

That's how we ended up together in the first place.

He pursued me relentlessly until I finally agreed to go out with him.

Back then, I thought it was romantic. Now I know better.

Now I know someone who can't respect your boundaries from the beginning will never respect them at all.

"Come on," Jess says, tugging me toward the door. "We're going to dance. We're going to drink. We're going to remind you what it feels like to have fun. Remember fun?"

I manage a smile. "Vaguely."

"That's the spirit. Sort of." Sarah opens the door with a flourish. "Our Uber's probably already here."

The ride feels like an eternity even though it's only fifteen minutes.

I sit in the back seat between my friends, hands clasped tightly in my lap, trying to breathe through the anxiety.

Sarah and Jess keep up a steady stream of chatter about work, dating lives, and everything except the elephant in the car.

I'm grateful for it, even though I can barely focus on what they're saying.

The driver drops us off in front of the club, and the bass is so loud, I can feel it vibrating through the sidewalk.

There's a line of people waiting to get in, all of them dressed up and excited.

For a moment, I consider bolting, just turning around and walking away, calling another Uber, going home where it's safe.

But Jess has my arm, and Sarah's already talking to the bouncer. Before I can make a decision, we're being waved inside.

The club is packed. The bass thrums through the floor and up into my chest while lights flash in dizzying patterns of blue and purple across the dance floor.

Bodies press together everywhere I look, people laughing and dancing and living their lives without fear.

The air is thick with perfume and cologne and sweat, so hot I can already feel moisture gathering at the back of my neck.

I used to love this. The energy, the chaos, the feeling of being part of something bigger than myself. Now it just feels overwhelming. There are too many people, too many places for someone to hide, and too many exits I'd need to watch.

"First round's on me," Sarah announces, heading toward the bar.

Jess stays close, her hand on my lower back as we follow. She's been my best friend since college and knows me well enough to sense when I'm about to bolt. Right now, I'm definitely considering it.

The bartender is cute, all muscles and tattoos, and he flashes us a grin as we approach.

Sarah orders three vodka cranberries, and I try to focus on the normalcy of it all.

This is what twenty-five-year-old women do on Saturday nights.

They go out with their friends. They drink.

They dance. They don't spend every evening locked in their apartments, afraid of their own shadows.

"Here's to girls' night," Sarah says, handing us our drinks and raising her glass.

"To girls' night," Jess and I echo, clicking our glasses against hers.

The vodka burns going down, but it's a good burn.

A normal burn. I take another sip, then another, feeling the first tendrils of warmth spread through my chest. The alcohol softens the sharp edges of my anxiety just enough that I can take a full breath without feeling like my lungs are being squeezed.

We find a spot near the edge of the dance floor, close enough to feel part of the action but not so close we're immediately swallowed by the crowd.

I sip my drink and watch people dance, trying to remember what it felt like to move like that.

Free and uninhibited. There's a girl in a silver dress who's absolutely killing it, her body moving like water, and I feel a pang of envy so sharp it almost hurts.

"He's not here," Jess says quietly, leaning close so I can hear her over the music. "You're safe."

I want to believe her. God, I want to believe her so badly.

"How do you know?" I ask, hating how small my voice sounds.

"Because I've been watching the door since we got here, and I haven't seen anyone who looks like that asshole." She squeezes my hand. "And if he does show up, we'll handle it. You're not alone, Kiera. You've got us."

My eyes burn with sudden tears, and I blink them back furiously. I will not cry in this club. I will not let Arnie ruin this night before it's even really started.

"Thank you," I manage. "For not giving up on me."

"Never," Jess says fiercely. "You're stuck with us."

My second drink goes down easier than the first, the vodka softening more of those sharp edges.

I find myself swaying slightly to the music, and the DJ is good, mixing tracks seamlessly, keeping the energy high.

Sarah's already dancing in place, her hips moving to the beat, and she grabs my hand and spins me around.

"There she is." She laughs. "I was wondering where my Kiera went."

I can't help but smile. The music is good, something with a heavy beat I can feel in my bones, and the alcohol is doing its job. The knot in my stomach is loosening, unraveling thread by thread.

"I'm still here," I say, surprised to find that I mean it. "Just a little rusty."

"Then let's shake off that rust." Sarah pulls me closer to the dance floor, and this time, I don't resist.

The music wraps around me like a physical thing, and I let my body respond to it.

It's tentative at first, just small movements, but it feels good.

It feels right. Jess joins us, and suddenly, we're a unit, the three of us moving together like we used to.

I remember this. I remember what it felt like to lose myself in the music, to let everything else fall away.

By my third drink, I'm actually dancing. Not just swaying, but really dancing. My body moves to the rhythm like it remembers how, even if my mind has forgotten. My hips roll and my arms lift above my head, and I'm laughing because it feels so good to move so freely.

Jess and Sarah are on either side of me, and we're laughing about something stupid, some joke I can barely hear over the music. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like myself again.

The lights flash across my face in waves of blue and purple and pink. I close my eyes and just feel. Feel the bass vibrating through my body, the heat of the crowd around me, the sweat trickling down my spine, and the ache in my feet from these ridiculous heels. Alive.

When I open my eyes again, there's a cute guy dancing nearby.

He's got a nice body, lean and athletic, and when he catches my eye, I don't immediately look away.

I smile back. It's just a smile, nothing more, but it feels like a victory.

Arnie doesn't own me anymore. He doesn't get to control who I smile at, where I go, or how I live my life.

"I needed this," I shout to Sarah over the music. "I really needed this."

She grins and pulls me into a hug, and I hug her back, feeling the tension I've been carrying since the breakup finally start to drain away. This is what healing feels like, I think. This is what moving on feels like.

The DJ transitions into another song, something even more upbeat, and we scream along with the lyrics like teenagers. My feet hurt in these heels, and I'm sweating through my carefully applied makeup, but I don't care. I'm having fun.

I throw my head back and laugh, the music pulsing through me, making me feel alive in a way I haven't felt in so long. The lights flash across my closed eyelids as I spin, dancing, free.

When I open my eyes, I see him.

Arnie is standing at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes locked on me.