Page 19 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

“I’ll remember that,” he says respectfully, but before I even get a word out, there’s a knock at the door.

I hop off his lap so fast I almost fall over and rush to get my dress, frantic that someone may see me naked. But he chuckles. “It’s locked, remember?”

The heat in my cheeks doesn’t lessen, however, until my clothing is in place and Bastian is zipped back into his pants and heading to the door.

I hear male voices exchange hushed words, then he looks over his shoulder at me, narrowing his eyes. The lust is still there, but now so is something else.

“Wait up for me tonight, Ms. Volina,” he growls. “I’ll be ready to enjoy more of that.”

I swallow hard, fighting back a grin as he slips out and shuts the door.

God that man is incredible, and I’m finding it difficult to not want him.

Now, if I can just not annoy him too much, we’ll be getting somewhere.

Maybe this isn’t going to be as weird as I thought. And maybe Bastian isn’t only interested in my body.

Time will tell.

7

BASTIAN

I sit in the back of the armored SUV as Demid navigates the evening traffic across town.

Right now my phone is silent, but the call we just got moments ago, which almost interrupted my time with Raina, is crushing.

Pyotr is dead—shot in cold blood on one of my own properties.

No one has claimed responsibility yet, but the silence itself speaks volumes.

Usually by now there’s a call or message sent by my enemies to take credit for something like this, and I fully expect that to come, but it hasn’t yet.

Akim was already on this side of town and waits for us to get there in what is surely a mess of a crime scene.

He said cops are already there swarming, so I have that to look forward to. Demid is driving me tonight.

“Boss,” he grumbles quietly, “there’s talk I need to share before we get there.”

I meet his eyes in the mirror, furrowing my brow. “Talk.” The last thing I need right now is more intrusion or stress. I shouldn’t have to fuck with outside stress when we’ve just been handed our asses.

He checks the mirrors again, then focuses on the road. “Some of the men have heard whispers…a plot to take you out. There’s nothing solid right now, just enough chatter that a few loyal ones brought it to me. Pyotr’s name came up in it.”

The news about someone coming at me isn’t shocking to me.

Death circles me every day in this life.

I’ve buried more men than I care to count, and I’ve ordered the same for others who’ve crossed me.

But a traitor inside my own ranks?

And Pyotr?

I don’t believe that for a second.

He was loyal to a fault, almost lost his wife because she wanted him to leave and he refused. That man would never betray me.

“Pyotr,” I repeat, tasting the name. Demid takes it as a sign I’m doubting him and chimes in immediately with his own backward explanation.