Page 36 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
Chapter 11 - Emmanuil
I watch from the window as the jeep drives away.
She thinks she’s won, that she’s off on a solo adventure without any security guards, but the truth is that I have a private guard following her every move. The more obvious guards are just for show. This guy tracks her and makes sure she’s fine without her even realizing he’s there.
I couldn’t take any risks. Not after the shooting at the mall.
The jeep disappears down the road, out of sight, but not out of mind.
I wonder where she’s going.
I saw that cute little dress she was wearing. Her hair was up in a messy bun, curling waves hanging around her face.
Her lips were glossed, and when she walked away, the hallway smelled of her perfume.
She’s fine. Let her go wherever she wants to go. The guard won’t let anything happen to her, and he won’t let her get up to anything she shouldn’t be doing.
Turning from the window, I head into my home office to get some work done for the day. I have a number of things to deal with, and Ardalion also wants me to go over a proposal he’s put together for a new client to make sure I agree with everything he’s offered.
He’s already asked me for my response twice. Another delay, and he’ll start getting suspicious that something’s up with me, especially after discovering my rival’s sister in my home.
Sitting at my desk, I open the proposal and read through it. Every line I read, I have to read again.
Where did she go? Who is she talking to?
I shake my head and refocus.
Deliveries, insurance on the shipments, price per gram, and turnaround times.
My head is swimming with numbers, but none of them are sticking enough for me to make an informed decision or give Ard my opinion.
I have to know where she is and what she’s doing.
I could message the guard. He could send me a report.
Reaching across the desk, I grab my phone, which I tossed down.
My fingers flick across the screen.
Me: Please report in. Where is she?
The reply is instant.
Philip: She’s at Beach Grove Bar, having a cocktail.
My stomach tightens. I remember her wearing that pink dress, her sassy remark about how she’ll go to a bar and there will be nothing I can do about it.
A dangerous growl rolls from my throat.
I toss my phone aside and look at the laptop again, but it’s pointless. There’s no hope. I can’t focus on this at all, and even though I know Ard is going to message me later to ask again, maybe I’ll just tell him it all looks good.
Standing up, I fold my laptop closed and slide my phone into my back pocket. Beach Grove Bar is just down the road. It’sa popular spot for overly rich assholes who like to sleaze over young, beautiful girls.
I clench my jaw, not liking the images flickering through my mind.
I imagine myself walking into the bar and finding her surrounded by men, buying her drinks, chatting, laughing, her leaning into them and gently touching their chests as she smiles that gorgeous smile.
It makes me walk faster, hurrying to my car so that I can get there quicker and interrupt whatever is going on. She can’t be behaving like that in public. It might not be everyone’s knowledge that we’re married, but if someone found out or the story came out later, it would make me look bad. Like, I can’t even keep my wife happy. And I don’t like to look bad.
