Page 11 of Savage Pakhan

Tucking my phone in my pocket, I lean back and cup Mia’s face. She’s crying and those big brown eyes seem so damn sad, it breaks my heart.

I wipe her tears away. “Can you stand?”

She nods without saying a word.

I lift her to her feet and sweep her into my arms. “I’m having a medic check you and then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m okay. No medic necessary.”

I bend down and pick up her bag, a small book falling out of it. She doesn’t notice. I pick that up too and tuck it in my waistband. It’s difficult but I manage.

“You’re seeing a doctor. End of story.”

And then, I’m figuring out a way to end this contract so Mia can live a better life.

3

MIA

“I tried to end the contract for you, Mia, but it’s ironclad. If you ran, it could mean your death. Not by me, but your family. They are desperate, Mia. Things are bad. They haven’t told you anything, but they need the money. You say the word and I’ll get you as far away from here as I can. I can’t do much, but I owe you for my son’s actions.”

Alek’s words run through my head while I stare at my reflection. This time, there’s a veil in my hair and a white dress clinging to my body. It’s big, fluffy, with a tight corset that is tied so tight, I can’t breathe.

I had a choice after the shooting. Alek gave me one. I still haven’t seen Ivan since the day of the shooting, but I know he’s here waiting. He’s been sending me updates every five minutes. Pictures of him in his tuxedo. Images of him smiling with my family. Photos of our rings.

But I know the truth.

They’re all warnings.

He’s reminding me that this is my only option. He’s reminding me he’s in control.

“No,” I whisper.

The new bruise on my cheek shows through makeup. There’s no hiding it. How big of a fool would I be to walk down that aisle? There’s a choice. There’s always a choice. Even if it kills me, I know in my heart that it was the right decision to make.

I can’t marry this man. He’s a stranger. He pretended to be someone he wasn’t my entire life just to get me to this point.

Tired. Afraid. Nervous. Riddled with anxiety. Timid.

I’m not this person. I don’t want to be this person.

“What am I doing?” Reality comes crashing down. The fear lifts and saving myself takes over.

I have to get out of here.

I toss my engagement rings on the floor, pick up the tulle skirt so I can run, and look at myself one last time.

I smile, finally liberated.

I’m free. Almost.

I need to be out the door and down the aisle in five minutes. That won’t be happening. I can’t exit using the door that opens to the hallway. The risk at someone seeing me is too high. There are French doors that open to a beautiful garden and it’s the only chance I have.

Oh god. I can’t breathe.

Am I really doing this? Am I being unreasonable? Am I running scared?

I shake my head, knowing that’s not true. Yes, I’m afraid, but I know I’ll never have a happy life if I walk down that aisle. If Ivan is abusive now, I can’t imagine who he’ll turn into if we’re married.