Chapter 19 - Emmanuil
My laptop beeps, letting me know an e-mail has arrived.
I lean back in the office chair and roll my sleeves up over my forearms. My eyes drift down to the bandages over my arms. She didn’t have to put so many on, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her at the time.
She was so focused on the task, her delicate hands working gently over my wounds.
If it were me, I would have scrubbed them with soap, maybe slapped a dressing over the larger cut, and gone to bed.
A smile touches my lips as I brush my fingers over one of the bandages.
Letting her take care of me was a special moment. One I will hold onto. The way she sat on my knee, her eyes narrowed, and her nose scrunched with concentration. She’s cute. She’s sexy. She’s beautiful. She’s funny, sweet, and caring.
My heart flips over when I realize I’m thinking of her again. The hundredth time today, I haven’t been able to get her off my mind.
It’s past three in the afternoon, and I’ve been at the office all day, but I keep getting distracted with thoughts of her.
I wonder what she’s doing right now. Maybe she’s reading a new book and tonight she’ll want to tell me about her favorite character, or something strange that happened in the story.
Her face lights up when she talks about her books.
I could listen to her all day. Laugh with her all day.
Make love to her all night.
Things between us are amazing.
Each moment that goes by, I am happier. It’s been weeks since I even thought of revenge and the entire plan I had.
In fact, if I consider it now, and the fact that over the last few years it’s been all I wanted—to get back at her and her brother for what they did—
I sigh loudly, running my fingers through my hair. It makes me agitated. The idea of revenge.
I don’t want that at all anymore.
The idea of using Anya as a tool actually angers me. How could I ever have thought that would make me feel better? She doesn’t deserve that. No matter what happened in the past, I can’t hurt her.
Sure. This is supposed to be a business deal.
And yes, she betrayed me. But for some reason, something inside me tells me there was more to it than her leaving because she got bored of me, or because she was playing some twisted game with my heart.
I don’t know what happened, but I think she really meant it when she said she was sorry.
And she meant it when she said she would change it if she could.
I am not supposed to be getting attached to her in any way. But my heart has a mind of its own, and I’ve conceded the fact that I can’t control it. I care about her more than I should. I’m more attached than I should be.
And I’m fine with it.
A deep chuckle rolls through my chest, and I shake my head.
“You’re getting yourself in trouble, Emmanuil.
This girl is dangerous for you,” I say to no one at all.
But the smile on my lips is warm, and as I say the words, I push away from my desk, ready to leave work because I miss her, and I’d rather be taking her out somewhere fun this afternoon than sitting here dealing with Bratva business.
I grab my phone and slide it into my pocket.
Leaning over my desk, I push the speaker button on my desk phone, connecting me directly to my assistant.
“Tamica, can you move this afternoon’s meeting? Reschedule it for Monday. I’m leaving work early.”
There is a moment of silence, a sharp static sound, and then her voice comes back through the speaker. “Yes, sir. I’ll sort it out for you.”
“Thanks,” I reply, then grab my jacket and shrug it on.
I turn towards the door, ready to head home—to her.
But my heart leaps into my throat. Shock bolts through me like ice, filling my veins and sending a shiver down my spine.
For a few heartbeats, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. But it’s clear as day. Undeniable.
He’s standing there with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes locked on me, and a scowl etched into his face.
“Kristopher,” I say coldly. “I don’t recall inviting you to my city.”
“Emmanuel,” he replies with venom in his voice.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. My rivals don’t get to just walk into my office uninvited. And Kristopher has never set foot in San Diego, not that I know of, because of our intense rivalry.
“You know exactly why I’m here, Emmanuil. Where the fuck is my sister?” he snarls, getting straight to the point.
I glare at him, the shock of seeing him quickly wearing off, replaced with anger.
Anger that gets more heated as my memories surface.
Years of pain, years of hurt, all because of him.
All because he stood between his sister and me.
He stood between the closure and understanding I needed when she left.
He took her from me and blocked any chance I had of trying to win her back.
He ruined my life, and he deserves no mercy for the choices he made.
And he didn’t stop there—over the following years, he continued to make my life harder.
Challenging me, messing up business deals, spreading lies—he is my enemy, and I am his.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say darkly. “Why would I know where your sister is? Can’t you keep your house in order?” I mock.
“Don’t fuck with me, Emmanuil. How long did you think you could hide this for?”
I sneer, clenching my teeth together and saying nothing. I won’t confess to anything. He might be fishing for information. He might be taking a chance, waiting for me to admit what he isn’t sure of. I’m not that stupid.
Kristopher walks further into my office, his eyes dark with anger.
“My sister was never on vacation anywhere. She’s been here the whole time.
I got suspicious after a while because she left without warning and didn’t stay in touch as often as she usually would.
Our conversations were strained when I asked her about what she was up to or who she was with, so I traced her phone.
She’s been here the entire time. In San Diego. With you.”
I snort, laughing bitterly.
“Just because your sister is in San Diego doesn’t mean it has anything to do with me, Kristopher. You’re jumping to conclusions.”
He lets out a frustrated growl. “Stop wasting my time. Tell me where she is before I tear your family to pieces, bit by bit. I will bring your entire world crashing down until she’s returned to me.”
He tosses three photographs onto my desk.
I glance at them, spreading them out to see each one clearly.
In one, Anya is leaning against my arm, laughing, her beautiful smile lighting the entire photograph.
In another, she’s in the passenger seat of my car. It’s nighttime, and city lights reflecting against the window, distorting the image, but it’s unmistakably her.
In the third, she’s walking into my office building. The same building we are standing in right now.
A slow, amused, yet dangerous laugh falls from my lips.
“I guess you did your homework,” I sigh, cocking my head to the side.
“Where is she?” he screams, losing his patience.
But his mistake was to threaten my family. The moment he did that, he lost any grounds for negotiation.
I already hate the man, I already despise the sight of him, and then he went and threatened the people who mean the most to me in this world.
I will never give him what he wants.
I will tear him apart before I give him a moment of satisfaction in this life.
“You’re too late, Kris,” I muse, walking slowly around the desk, still looking at the photographs. Leaning over, I pick one up. I toy with it, waving it through the air, studying it as though looking at art.
It’s one of Anya, leaning against my arm, wearing the most perfect smile.
My heart clenches as I stare at her. I would never hurt her. But he doesn’t need to know what. As far as he is concerned, I want him to think the worst.
I throw the photograph like a Frisbee, tossing it at him. It spins through the air, fluttering like a bird before it hits his chest and then falls to the floor. The image lands at his feet, her face turned up towards him. He looks down at it and clenches his fists.
“Do you see how happy she is?” I ask, leaning against my desk and folding my arms across my chest. The weight of my Glock is reassuring, tucked into the back of my belt beneath my jacket.
“Do you see the radiance of her smile? How do you think I managed to make her that happy?” I laugh, knowing the thought of us being together would devastate him.
“She let me do the most magnificent things to her. Your little sister. Not such an angel, is she?”
His face turns red with rage, and he takes a step towards me.
“Shut the fuck up before I break you,” he yells.
“Like I broke her?” I smirk, not moving, not showing any signs of backing down.
My heart is racing, my blood pulsing with rich adrenaline.
He may have had the upper hand, arriving unannounced and catching me off guard, but I’m the one in control here.
I call the shots. I decide the outcome of this moment.
“Your cousin, Ardalion, and his two sisters—do you really want to put them in danger because of your ego? You want to let your arrogance ruin their lives?” he warns me, threatening my family again.
“Ardalion is ten times the man you are, Kristopher. You wouldn’t stand a chance against him. But even if you did, I wouldn’t let you get out of that door before I put a bullet in your head.” I gesture towards the office door.
He sniffs, turning his nose up at me.
“What the fuck do you want with her? Why don’t you just leave her alone like I told you to do years ago?” Kristopher complains.
“Because I wasn’t done with her,” I say calmly, shrugging, as though it’s a simple fact. “You two played with me, so I had to play back in return.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” he’s getting angry. I want him angry. The angrier a person is, the less in control of themselves they are.
The problem is that I’m angry, too.