Page 59 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
“Have you considered that maybe she needs time? That pushing so hard to find her might be exactly the wrong approach?”
“She’s my wife.”
“She’s a woman you bought at an auction to destroy her family,” Anka said bluntly. “Maybe she has good reasons for running.”
The words were like salt in an open wound. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand better than you think.” Her voice softened slightly. “But Matvei, you can’t force someone to love you. You can’t hunt them down and expect them to fall into your arms, grateful for the attention.”
“I just want to talk to her. To explain.”
“Explain what? That you planned to use her as a weapon against her own family? That you married her under false pretenses?” Anka’s brown eyes were sad but unflinching. “Some things can’t be explained away.”
That night, alone in the mansion that felt too big and too empty without her, Matvei finally allowed himself to face the truth he’d been avoiding. This was his fault. All of it. He’d made choices, cruel and calculated choices, and now he was paying the price.
He’d told himself it was just business, that she was just a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, she’d become everything. Her laugh, her stubborn defiance, the way she’d curled up against him in sleep like she trusted him completely. The way she’d taken care of him without asking questions, offering comfort when he’d needed it most.
He loved her. Had probably been falling in love with her since that first night when she’d signed the marriage license without hesitation, matching his expectations with her own brand of fearless calculation.
And he’d lost her. Driven her away with his lies and manipulations and the weight of his original intentions.
By day seven, he’d stopped trying to find her. What was the point? She was smart, resourceful, and apparently better atdisappearing than his entire security team was at tracking. If she wanted to stay hidden, she would.
He was sitting in his office, staring at reports he couldn’t focus on, when a guard knocked on the door.
“Sir? There’s someone here to see you.”
“I’m not taking meetings today.”
“Sir, I think you’ll want to take this one.”
Something in his tone made Matvei look up. “Who is it?”
But he already knew. Could feel it in the sudden shift in the air, the way his entire body went on alert. She was here.
“Send her in.”
Irina walked into his office like she owned it, shoulders back, chin raised in that defiant way that had first caught his attention. But there were differences. She was thinner, with shadows under her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. Her usual confidence was there, but it felt brittle somehow, like armor that might crack under pressure.
“We need to talk,” she said without preamble.
“Irina.” Her name came out rougher than he’d intended. Seven days of not knowing if he’d ever see her again had left him raw. “Where have you been?”
“That’s not important.”
“It is to me.” He stood, wanting to go to her but not sure if he’d be welcome. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I know. Your men aren’t as subtle as they think they are.” She moved to the chair across from his desk but didn’t sit. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?”
She took a breath, and he could see her gathering her courage. “Because we both deserve the truth. All of it.”
The words hung between them, loaded with implications. Matvei felt something shift in his chest, hope and terror warring for dominance.
“Okay,” he said carefully. “The truth.”
“You bought me at that auction to destroy my family.” It wasn’t a question. “The kidnapping, the whole thing, it was all planned from the beginning.”
