22. Emil
EMIL
Fuck.
The word echoes through my mind as I stare at Kiera frozen in the doorway. Her face has drained of color, those blue eyes wide with fear.
The man in the chair is still whimpering, blood pouring from his broken nose, but I barely hear him anymore. All I can see is the way Kiera's looking at me. Like I'm a monster.
Maybe I am.
My knuckles are split and bleeding, the man's blood mixing with my own. The violence is still thrumming through my veins, hot and demanding. I want to hit him again, want to make him understand what happens when you cross me, when you take my money and think you can just walk away.
But Kiera's here, and the look on her face is doing something to my chest that I don't fucking like.
I don't say anything, just give a single nod to Luca.
He understands immediately. He always does. He moves toward Kiera, his movements careful and non-threatening, and gestures toward the hallway. She looks at me one more time, and the expression on her face cuts deeper than any knife ever has. Horror. Disgust. Fear.
My original plan is fucked. I was going to seduce her slowly, make her want this marriage as much as I do, show her the benefits of being with me. But now she's seen the violence and blood.
She'll never agree to marry me now. Except she doesn't have a choice anymore.
The realization settles over me like ice water. She saw too much. The family won't let her just walk away with that knowledge. They'll see her as a liability, a threat that needs to be eliminated. They'll "protect" me by making sure she can't talk.
Unless she's family. Unless she's my wife.
Then she's untouchable.
And there's still the matter of whoever tried to kill her outside her apartment. That threat is real, and I still don't know who's behind it or why. She needs my protection, whether she wants it or not.
I finish with the thief quickly. Two more hits to make my point clear, then I have my men drag him out. He'll pay what he owes, plus interest, or he won't be walking for a very long time.
Then I head to my private bathroom and strip off my blood-stained shirt. The shower is scalding hot, the way I like it. I stand under the spray and watch the water run red as it washes the blood away. But I can't wash away the image of Kiera's face. The horror in her eyes.
I've never given a fuck what anyone thinks of me. I'm the Pakhan. I do what needs to be done.
But I want her to look at me the way she did at the pool. With heat and desire and that spark of defiance that makes me want to pin her down and claim her completely.
I don't want her to be afraid of me.
By the time I get out of the shower, it's late. I should sleep. I have meetings tomorrow, business to handle, an empire to run.
But when I lie down in my bed, all I can think about is her.
She's in my house right now, locked away in my office, Luca had told me.
Maybe I should go and talk to her right now, but I need time to think.
She's protected and safe in my office, and there's a large, comfy sofa she can sleep on.
Tomorrow morning will be soon enough to lay down the law to her since everything has changed now.
I stare at the ceiling, my mind racing. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. The way she felt in my arms at the pool. The way she tasted. The sounds she made when I was inside her, those little gasps and moans that drove me fucking crazy.
The curve of her ass when she climbed out of the pool, water sliding down her skin.
Perfect and round, fitting my hands like she was made for me.
The way her tits looked in that bikini, full and soft, her nipples hard against the wet fabric.
I remember the weight of them in my palms, the way she arched into my touch.
The flat plane of her stomach, smooth and toned. The flare of her hips.
The way she responded when I touched her. Like her body recognized mine. Like she was made to be claimed by me.
Those sounds she made. The breathy gasps when I first pushed inside her. The moans when I went deeper. The way she said my name when she came apart around me.
I'm hard just thinking about it, my cock aching with the need to be inside her again. I could go to her right now. Walk down the hall, push open the door, and take what I want.
But I can't. Not tonight. My blood is still running too hot from the interrogation. I want to fuck her so hard she forgets everything except my name, and I'd scare her.
So I lie here in the dark, wanting and needing her, and knowing I can't have her. Not yet.
The hours crawl by. I hear the guards change shifts outside and the house settle around me. But I don't sleep.
By the time dawn breaks, I've made my decision.
I get up, shower again, and dress in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks. I look at myself in the mirror and see the same man I've always been. Hard. Dangerous. Uncompromising.
But there's something different in my eyes now. Something that wasn't there before I met her.
I head downstairs to the dining room and have the kitchen prepare breakfast. Eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, and pastries. There's also sausage, biscuits, and gravy, as well as coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and orange juice.
Then I wait.
When Luca appears in the doorway with Kiera, my breath catches.
She's wearing the same clothes from yesterday, her red hair slightly mussed from sleep. There are dark circles under her eyes. And her face is set in an expression of pure fury.
If looks could kill, my corpse would be on the table right now.
She sits across from me without a word, doesn't look at me or even acknowledge the food in front of her.
I pour her coffee and slide it across the table. She ignores it.
We eat in silence. Or rather, I eat. She picks at a piece of toast, chewing mechanically, her jaw tight with anger.
The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.
I can't stand it anymore.
"Your brother Jack is a cop," I finally say.
She looks up at me, her eyes narrowed. "So?"
"So he knows who I am. What I do. And now you've seen it too. You've seen me interrogate someone. You've seen the violence."
"What's your point?"
"My family won't let you just walk away with that knowledge. They'll see you as a threat, a liability. They'll want to eliminate that threat."
I watch the realization dawn on her face, watch the color drain from her cheeks.
"You mean they'll kill me."
"They'll try."
"And you'd let them?"
The question pisses me off more than it should. "No, I wouldn't fucking let them. That's why you're staying here. That's why you're under my protection."
"I don't want your protection."
"Too fucking bad. You need it anyway. Someone already tried to kill you, remember? We still don't know who or why. You're not safe out there, Kiera. But you're safe here. With me."
She's shaking now, and I don't know if it's from fear or anger or both.
I stand and move around the table. When I'm close enough to touch her, I stop.
I reach out and cup her face, feeling her tremble under my touch. But she doesn't pull away.
"We're getting married, Kiera. In one month."