Page 75 of The Pakhan

“Don’t walk away. Why do you do that?”

“I’m not walking away but what happened tonight can never happen again.”

“Let me guess,” I retorted, which I instantly regretted, “your reputation will suffer.”

When he turned his head toward me, I didn’t need light or any illumination to see the look of hurt on his face.

“No, Caroline. I refuse to allow my arrogance to be the reason I lose someone else I care about.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. You did nothing wrong.” He moved toward the door.

“How can you live like this? Sofiya never acted as if she was in prison, but you must feel that way.”

I hated the bitter sound of his laugh. “It’s not a prison for me, Caroline. And I never allowed my daughters to feel that way. I also don’t want that for you but sometimes, security is necessary. Often protection comes at a cost. That’s my world. But I feel like a very lucky man.”

“Money and power don’t buy happiness. Look at my father. He’s a miserable SOB.”

At least I made him laugh. “Yes, I can agree with you, but a wise woman told me that happiness was what you make it. Granted, I’ve done a shitty job of doing that the last twenty-five years, but I do embrace the concept.”

“Who taught you that?”

“My mother.”

The reverence in his tone was evident.

“If you’ll allow me to talk to your soldiers, I’ll know if the man we heard is in your employ.”

His sigh was so heavy, gut wrenching. “As you said, voices can be disguised.”

“I scratched him hard on his face. I smelled blood underneath my fingertips.”

Vadim immediately stiffened. “My little kitty cat. Let me see what I can do.”

“Don’t wait until they heal.”

He opened the door and my heart sank. “You’re my responsibility now and I will do everything I can to keep you safe. No matter what it takes.”

As soon as he closed the door, I thumped down on the bed. Why was being with him so difficult but being away from him so abominable?

Vadim

“You need to get a life, man.”

Aleksander’s voice was understandably full of sleep. It was after two-thirty in the morning. “I have a life.”

“Then sleep. Highly recommended.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“Famous last words. Did something else happen?”

“Who was injured tonight at the party?” It was the one task I’d asked him to do after learning he was alright.

He sighed and I heard the rustling of sheets. When I heard a woman’s voice, I had to smile. Sometimes I did forget those who worked with me had lives of their own and deserved them.

“Hold on,” he said quietly. As a door opened and closed, I sat back in my office chair.

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