Page 49 of Claimed By the Pakhan

“And…?”

I grimace, on the fence about telling her the truth, since it will probably end in her telling me to get the fuck away from Emil again.

“I was attacked by Emil’s enemies, but I’m fine, I promise. We can discuss more in person, but I need you to raid my filing cabinet at work.”

“You’re unbelievable."

“I know, but something bigger is at stake here.”

“You disappeared for an entire year, Fia,” says Chloe. “Even if I break into your officeandfind the key to the cabinet, there’s no guarantee. Can’t Emil fill in the blanks? He is your husband after all.”

“What if there’s more to the story?”

“Like what?”

“Like, things Emil doesn’t know. One of his men is leaking information to his enemy. It begs the question, what else is going on behind his back?”

“All due respect, what does this have to do with you?” asks Chloe down the receiving end of the phone.

“I’m not sure, but if I can look at some recent documents, I might be able to piece together some memories.”

Chloe sighs, the phone turning static. “I’m sorry, Fia, but as your friend, I have to give my honest advice and let you know this is abad idea. What if your obsession for answers is what led you here in the first place?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always been obsessed with facts. Perhaps your determination for uncovering the truth led you to marrying the wrong man, in an attempt to get closer to answers.”

I bite my lip anxiously, knowing that is something I would indeed do.

Is this why Emil is being vague, constantly dodging questions every time I pester him for answers? Could he be protecting me from myself?

“Fia? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I mutter, sighing through the phone. “You’re right. I’ll do anything for the truth.”

“Maybe Emil isn’t the villain.”

“Hm,” I say, still unconvinced. “Time will tell. Sorry for pestering you.”

“I like to be pestered,” says Chloe. “The pestering tells me that you’re okay…”

“Yeah,” I whisper, chewing on my lip a little more, digesting that last sentence. “I’ll speak to you soon. Love you, bye.”

I end the call and jump up, letting my intuition lead the way. And since it’s telling me to raid the closet, I roll up my sleeves and get started, searching for reports that I could have potentially hidden from myself.

My obsessive personality refuses to drop something until I understand the facts. I set a goal and work tirelessly until I achieve it, which is why I was popular with clients in the office. I was known for getting the job done.

I could have torn the reports up. Being pregnant would have caused me to slow down, prioritizing other lives as well as my own. I would happily sacrifice my own for justice, but innocent lives come first.

Perhaps I really am my worst enemy and tore up reports…

I search every pocket, yanking every jacket off the hanger, tossing them all aside in a huff when I find nothing inside. Raiding my closet is achieving nothing. I’m no closer to finding answers, and now I have a pile of jackets to sort through and reorganize.

The door flies open, revealing a very pissed off Emil.

Unfortunately, anger is a very good look on him, hardening his face in all the right places, painting him in a very unforgivable light. Good, hard sex is what my body is craving right now to melt all of my frustration.

“Who dragged you through a hedge backward?”