Because that’s who I was.
Because once I let myself care—even for a second—I was compromised. Weak. Just another man with a crack in his armor.
So I stayed still, letting the silence stretch, while she wiped away the sting and looked at him like he’d buried her instead of raised her.
Pakhan turned to me again.
“Report back after the meeting with Belov. I want numbers. If he doesn’t play nice, we escalate.”
I nodded. “Understood.”
Kira turned on her heel and walked out without another word.
I watched her go but the burn in my chest didn’t fade.
Pakhan moved behind his desk again and sat, smoothing his shirt cuffs like nothing had happened. Then he looked at me and said, “This is kindness. The man she marries won’t be so forgiving.”
Kindness. That was what he called this. That slap. That threat. That whole performance.
My jaw tightened. Silence was all I gave him, while the idea burned through me that this was his idea of gentle.
My eyes drifted to the door she’d walked out of.
If her future husband might be worse than this bastard, she could be in real danger.
I shouldn’t care. I didn’t care. That wasn’t my role.
And yet… I had to see who this guy was. Just to make sure he wasn’t the kind of man who left bruises where they wouldn’t show.
I left the office, walking out into the cool evening air that smelled faintly of exhaust and wet concrete. Instead of going to do my job, I slipped behind the wheel of the car and sat there—lights off, radio off, the silence stretching around me.
How the fuck did I end up here? Babysitting a girl I wasn’t supposed to look twice at, all because her father was a tyrant and her date might be worse. I am not her savior. I am not soft. But here I was—waiting. Watching. Wasting time I should’ve spent cracking skulls.
Minutes dragged. Then a sleek black Audi rolled up to the front of the mansion, its engine a low, expensive purr. It stopped right by the entrance, polished and smug like everything inside it.
The front door opened, and she stepped out like nothing had happened. Like the slap never landed. Like the world had been made for her and she damn well knew it.
Short black dress. Thin black jacket. Heels that clicked sharp as gunshots.
Fuck.
She looked like everything I didn’t know I wanted until it was walking toward someone else.
Stanislav got out of the driver’s side—medium height, compact and narrow-shouldered, all bones and bravado. His dark hair, slicked back to his ears, looked like it hadn’t moved in hours. He walked around the car with that sleazy confidence only rich, skinny men could pull off, bent to kiss her cheek like he had a right to her, and opened the door with a smug little flourish that made me want to knock his teeth down his throat.
I started the car, muscles stiff with fury, and tailed them into the night.
Stanislav took her to Skyline 23, one of those exclusive rooftop lounges for Kyiv’s elite. Members-only. A place with glass walls,leather booths, and overpriced drinks that tasted like perfume and cost more than rent.
I waited until they disappeared inside before I got out of the car.
The hostess spotted me the second I stepped through the door. Her face went pale. She straightened automatically.
“I’ll find my own table,” I said, my gaze already scanning the crowd for Kira and Stanislav. “Bring a beer.”
She swallowed and gave asmall nod.
I walked past her and took the table in the far corner, the one half-hidden by a column where the light didn’t quite reach. From there, I had a perfect view of their booth.
