Two minutes later, the door opened again.
Kira walked in composed and unreadable.When her eyes met mine, they widened—just slightly—then cooled. She wasn’t expecting me here. I wasn’t expecting her either.
“Be ready at seven,” Pakhan said, not looking at her. “You’re going on a date.”
Her head jerked. “What? With who?”
“Stanislav Boychenko.”
I didn’t flinch. But her voice turned venomous.
“You want me to go on a date with fucking Stas? That sleazy parasite—”
Pakhan snapped. “You will call him by his full name. His father is a respectable man.”
Kira’s jaw clenched. “I’m not going anywhere with that creep. No fucking way.”
Pakhan finally turned to face her fully. “Yes, you are. You’ll behave. And if all goes well, you’ll marry him.”
I felt the air change.
“You’ve lost your goddamn mind,” she hissed.
And then he moved.
Walked around the desk, unhurried and precise, crossing the space between them like a shark.
His hand cracked across her face.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
She staggered back a step, hand flying to her cheek, eyes wide in disbelief. Her breath caught, but she didn’t cry out. Tears welled, but she blinked them back like fire.
And then—she looked at me.
I held her gaze. Face blank. Cold.
Inside, though, something ignited. A slow burn that coiled in my chest and kept climbing.
Why the fuck was I reacting at all? I’d seen worse. Done worse. Killed men with my bare hands and watched their families scream. Put bullets in heads and walked away without blinking. I didn’t give a damn about anyone.
But something about the way she looked in that moment, small and stunned—made my stomach twist. It wasn’t rage driving the slap. It was punishment. Cold, deliberate punishment handed down to someone who couldn’t fight back. And just for a second, something cracked. A memory surfaced—brief and sharp—of fists I couldn’t raise, of silence I had to swallow. I shoved it down before it could root and I was stone again.
Pakhan turned away from her like nothing happened.
“You’ll wear something nice,” he said. “Something he’ll like.”
My fists clenched behind my back.
I told myself again: this wasn’t my business.
He was her father. He could do what he wanted.
And yet... I understood her better in that moment than I ever had. The fire. The defiance. The way she fought everything like it was a cage, because it was.
She was raised by a monster. Of course she bit.
Still, I said nothing. Did nothing.
