Page 3 of Savage Pakhan

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Someone must be using their fist.

Ivan checks his watch. “Papa isn’t supposed to be here yet.” He slides me off his lap and takes out a gun from the waistband of his pants.

“Ivan. Open the door. It’s me.”

Ivan’s shoulders slump and he chuckles, tucking the weapon into this waistband again. “It’s just my Papa. He’s early.”

My heart stutters in my chest. It always does when it comes to Aleksandr Bykov. A man twice my age and who has no business filling my thoughts like he does.

“You’re about to be a Bykov, Mia. Let’s tell him the good news.”

Is it good? Or am I doomed?

1

MIA

Present Day

My life hasn’t gone the way I thought it would. I thought being engaged to Ivan would finally be enough for me to have my own life in some way. I thought our families would be closer than ever. I thought a loving marriage would be in the plans considering the man I dated said he loved me.

Granted, relationships take work. This being arranged means being in love won’t come as easy. We have to work for it.

I was willing to put in the work. I was willing to try and live my best life with Ivan since this is the only life I know of the only life I was promised.

Now, I’m standing here in front of the mirror getting ready for my bridal shower, staring at my busted lip and bruised cheek.

Ivan gets so angry.

I should have listened to my instincts.

It’s been the longest six months of my life, and this is how it’s supposed to be forever. I don’t know what to do. There isn’t a backup plan. There isn’t another alternative for me. The contract has been signed. The deal has been made, and the only way out is death.

Every day that passes, death seems to be the only logical escape.

I thought Ivan loved me. I thought he wanted to give me the world. I thought both of us were on the same page. We would learn to love the life we were made to have. We would make the best of it.

But I’m not stupid, no matter what Ivan thinks or says.

I was stupid when I agreed to marry him that day six months ago when I ignored the warning signs, when I saw glimpses of him I never had before.

Now, I’m here, dabbing concealer on every bruise so no one asks any questions. I hope they do. I hope someone cares enough to reach out to me when they notice I’m holding in screams.

All I want to do is cry, “Help me! Save me. Someone, please, get me out of here!”

But why bother? When the Bykovs and the Roswells have more reach than anyone in the world. They could find me anywhere. No matter what corner of the earth I run to.

I’m realizing that while my life was mapped out for me since before I was born, I’m nothing more than a prop, a bargaining chip so everyone gets what they want.

Everyone but me.

I don’t matter in this equation. I never have.

That much is apparent.

I freeze when I hear Ivan’s footsteps coming down the hall. My hands tremble. I grab onto my forearms to keep from shaking, hoping he walks by the door. I only want him to leave me alone. I want a day without him being abusive.