Page 54 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
I leave the boutique feeling wistful and dreamy, as though the little shop had some magical effect on me. Her words are stilllooping in my thoughts.I have everything that makes my heart full. All she needs is love in the end.
Spinning and walking in the opposite direction, I head back to the car. I’ve decided that I’m going to buy some takeout for lunch and visit Emmanuil at his office. I’ve been thinking about him all day, and if that’s what my heart wants, then that’s what I’ll do. His favorite used to be a chicken and bacon wrap from the bakery on the corner near his building. I wonder if they’re still open.
Half an hour later, I walk into his building with a brown paper bag of lunch, his favorite wrap for him, and a salmon bagel for myself. I have a skip in my step, still feeling fresh and pretty from the morning’s pampering as I step out of the elevator on the top floor.
The receptionist greets me and tells me to go through. He’s just on a call, but it shouldn’t be long.
Instead of waiting outside, I decide to surprise him before she can call his desk and tell him I’m here.
I knock once and push his door open, smiling as I step inside.
He doesn’t look up from the aggravated pacing he’s doing. He has the phone pressed against his ear and a look of pure rage on his face.
He stops walking abruptly and suddenly yells into the phone. “Where the fuck was the security team? How did they get past twelve men, supposedly in the convoy?”
His voice booms through the space around me, and I freeze, tense and awkward, standing in the doorway.
“Did they get everything? The entire delivery was lost?”
Emmanuil begins to pace again, and I have no idea if he’s seen me or not. Should I back away slowly? Pretend I wasn’t here? Should I wait outside? Should I leave altogether? It sounds like one of his operations went south, and he’s suffered a loss. It doesnotsound like he wants any surprise visitors.
I slowly step back, through the half-open doorway, just as he hangs up the phone.
He looks up, his face scrunched, his eyes narrowed.
“Anya?” he says in surprise when he sees me, half-in and half-out of his office. I tense, my heart racing, my cheeks growing pink with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. We can talk another time,” I murmur with a tight smile.
“Wait,” he says, holding up his hand and walking towards me. He tugs the door all the way open. “Did something happen? Are you okay?” His eyes trace quickly over me, searching for signs of harm or stress.
I shake my head. “I’m fine, I just—" I hold up the bag of food. “I just thought—"
“You brought me lunch?” he says, his voice thick with shock.
“Yes, but I can see you’re busy, so it’s really okay, I’ll go.”
He chuckles, a wide smile breaking across his face.
“What did you bring me?” he asks, grabbing my arm and pulling me into his office, towards the sofas in the corner near the window.
His voice has changed, and the tension is gone when he sits down and pats the seat next to him.
I sit down too, setting the bag on the little table in front of us.
“I’ll give you two guesses,” I grin.
He narrows his eyes, mischief in his gaze. “You didn’t?”
“Chicken and bacon,” I grin.
“You did,” he laughs.
“I wasn’t sure if you still liked it,” I say, my heart fluttering at the sound of his laughter.
“Hearts don’t just stop liking what they like, Anya.”
I bite my lip, wondering if he’s still talking about food.
