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“What do you care? You’re married.”
“Not anymore.”
Too much is happening too fast. I can’t keep up.
“Where is she?”
He holds out his bloody arms like that’s all the evidence needed. “Dead.”
The possibility that Arsen is responsible doesn’t even cross my mind. Nor does the possibility that he’s lying.
Instinctively, I reach for him. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Arsen.”
He pulls back. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to pack a bag.”
“How did she die?”
“She was assassinated for no other reason than she was my wife, which means you—” His voice breaks, and he wheezes out a harsh breath before starting over. “You could be a target, and I need to get you out of this fucking house, Laila. Now.”
Assassination?Target? I feel lightheaded.
I probably should have asked this question a long time ago but… “Who the hell are you?”
“That’s an explanation for another time. Right now?—”
He makes a move towards me, but I jerk away. “I’m not going anywhere with you until I know exactly who you are and why we have to leave.”
His green eyes sizzle and crack. His hands clench like he’s planning to scoop me up and squeeze my pregnant ass through the window with or without my cooperation. “Fine. You want an explanation? I’m Arsen Adamov, CEO of Adamov Liquor?—”
“I know that al?—”
“Andpakhanof the Adamov Bratva, the biggest cartel in this city,” he finishes.
It feels like something is closing in around my throat. “You… you run agang?”
“My enemies took out my wife tonight. There’s a good chance they’re going to come after you next.”
“But I’m not your wife,” I squeak. “I haven’t even seen you since we…”
I don’t finish. What we did is large and obvious between us.
Arsen looks down at my stomach. “You’re carrying my heir.”
“I must be dreaming,” I whisper, a burst of manic laughter exploding out of me. “This is just a very realistic dream and soon, I’ll wake up and—ouch!” I cry as he grabs my arm and twists me towards him.
“You’re not dreaming,roza,but this could turn into a goddamn nightmare if you don’t listen to me. You’re in danger and so is my child. Now—” He pulls me closer, his eyes boring into mine. “—pack a fucking bag before I pack it for you.”
I manage to stuff exactly three things into a duffel before my hands are shaking too much to continue. Arsen zips it up and flings it over his shoulder.
“Fuck it. I’ll send someone for the rest of your stuff later. We don’t have time.”
“I can’t just leave!”
“Did you not just hear me?”
“I heard you!” I say. “But my mother is here. If I’m in danger, then she?—”
“Your mother will be fine. No one will be concerned with her. In any case, I have security watching the house for her.”
