Page 20 of The Pakhan’s Unwanted Bride

"What's happening?" I grab his arm. "Where are they taking my things?"

"To the Galkin estate." Benedikt spits the words like they're poison. "Your father's orders."

The room tilts slightly. "What?"

"He's sending you to live there. Until the wedding." His hands clench into fists at his sides. "I tried to talk him out of it. Told him it wasn't right or safe, but he wouldn't listen."

I push past him, heading straight for my father's study. I don't knock this time, just throw the door open. He's still at his desk, still reviewing papers like he hasn't just upended my entire life.

"What are you doing?" I demand.

He doesn't look up. "Solving a problem."

"By shipping me off like cargo?"

"By ensuring you and Samuil learn to tolerate each other before the wedding." Now he does look up, his expression calm and completely unbothered by my fury. "You'll be living at his estate until the ceremony. It's already arranged."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious." He sets down his pen. "You need time to adjust to the idea of this marriage. Samuil needs time to get used to having you around. This solves both problems."

"This is insane!" My voice rises despite my attempt to stay controlled. "You're just going to force me to move in with a man I barely know?"

"Yes." The simplicity of it is infuriating. "You'll have your own rooms, your own space. But you'll be under the same roof, sharing meals, learning to coexist. By the time the wedding happens, it won't feel so foreign."

"I don't want this."

"I know." He returns to his paperwork. For a brief instant, I think I see a twinge of guilt flash across his features, but it's gone just as quickly. "But it's happening anyway. The cars will be ready in three hours. I suggest you supervise the packing to ensure nothing important gets left behind."

I stand there, searching for any argument that might change his mind. But I already know it's useless. When my father makes a decision like this, nothing will move him.

"I hate you right now," I say quietly.

"I can live with that." He doesn't even look up. "Three hours, Anastasia."

I leave before I say something I'll regret. The next few hours pass in a blur of activity. Servants pack my clothes, shoes, jewelry, and personal items. Benedikt hovers nearby, his anger a palpable presence. He keeps muttering under his breath about disrespect and poor decisions, but he doesn't try to stop the process. He knows as well as I do that defying my father's direct order would not be a good thing.

By late afternoon, my belongings are loaded into three SUVs. I watch from my bedroom window as boxes and suitcases disappear into the vehicles. My entire life, reduced to cargo.

"Princess." Benedikt appears in the doorway. "It's time."

I take one last look around my bedroom, then shrug as if it isn't killing me to leave my family home. "Let's get this over with," I say.

I sit in the back of the lead SUV, staring out the window as familiar streets give way to less familiar neighborhoods. Benedikt drives our car and I sit in the backseat. I look up into the rearview mirror and see his expression. He looks about as pleased as I do. We've known each other for years. His mother used to work for our family, so in a way, we've kind of grown up together, even though he's nearly a decade older than me. Since I didn't have any siblings, Benedikt became like a brother to me. Even after he was officially given employment with my father, when personal relationships between royalty and the hired help were not allowed, we still remained close. It's no surprise to me that he finds this situation as appalling as I do.

We pass through an exclusive area on the outskirts of the city, where properties are measured in acres rather than lots. High walls and private gates protect occupants from prying eyes. This is where the real power lives. The people who don't need to advertise their wealth because everyone already knows.

The Galkin estate appears ahead, and despite my anger, I can't help but be impressed. The main house is massive, three stories of stone and dark wood that manages to look both elegant and fortress-like. Manicured grounds stretch in every direction, with tall trees providing privacy from the road. The gate is solid steel, the kind that could stop a tank.

Benedikt pulls up to the intercom, identifies himself, and waits. After a moment, the gate swings open. We drive through, followed by the other two vehicles.

The circular driveway is paved with dark stone, leading up to a grand entrance with wide steps and massive double doors. And standing on those steps, arms crossed, is Samuil Galkin.

He's dressed casually in dark jeans and a black shirt, but somehow, he still looks like he's ready for war. He watches our convoy as we pull to a stop, and I can see the exact moment he realizes what's happening. His eyes widen and his face flushes with angry heat.

I climb out of the SUV before Benedikt can open the door for me. The afternoon sun is warm on my face as I walk toward the steps, my heels clicking against the stone, then stop at the bottom of the steps and look up at him. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then I force a bright smile onto my face.

"Good news. Apparently, I live here now."