Page 16 of Twisted Vows

I silently question if that would be true if push came to shove.

“Ari!” Gianna stands inside the door with a big smile. “Theprincipessais waiting to see her godmother.”

“Coming.” I grab the pink bag filled with gifts and walk quickly into my cousin’s open arms. Hugging her tightly, I silently appreciate that I have someone to help me navigate the dangerous waters I’m about to enter.

Ten minutes later, we are settled in the library, and I am holding a beautiful infant who bears the unimaginable responsibility of keeping two families from tearing each other apart. “Sophia, you have no idea what rests on your tiny shoulders.”

“Like any Bianchi, she is up to the challenge,” Gianna remarks as she pours two espressos from a small pot.

“What about the Volkov side?” I ask, tracing the baby’s soft cheek. “What will that do for her?”

“When she’s ready to rule a kingdom, she will have the tenacity to succeed.” Gianna winks and holds out her hands. “Let me put her in the bassinet while we have coffee.”

With surprising reluctance, I hand Sophia to her mother. “You are glowing cousin. Is motherhood responsible?” She covers the baby with a light blanket and smiles as though she knows the world’s secrets.

“Partly.” She hands me a demitasse of coffee. “I also have a wonderful husband who’s an attentive father.”

I picture Maxsim’s brother and wonder how such a brutal man can be described with such glowing adjectives. “I suppose that should give me some comfort since I’m about to join you in thegulag.”

“Alexey told me last night.” Gianna covers my hand. “And given what Gio did, I think it’s good news.”

“A cage is a cage.” I sip my coffee slowly. “Does it really matter who’s holding the key?”

Gianna watches Sophia sleep, her expression soft but her words sharper than before. “Maxsim isn’t a monster—at least, not the kind you’re thinking. He’s ruthless, yes, but there’s a method to it. He values strength, loyalty, and control above all else. He’s not like the men who let their emotions rule them. You’ll know where you stand. Just don’t expect it to be on equal footing—at least not at first.” She looks up. “The Bratva is colder than what we grew up with, but the Volkov men burn hotter than most Sicilians.”

Her words cut deeper than I expect. “I’m not afraid of him, Gianna.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “But that’s not the problem, is it?”

I look down at my hands. “I would love to say he’s nothing more than a well-dressed black hole that extinguishes all the light around him, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth.”

“You told me two years ago at my birthday party that he was the sexiest man you’d ever encountered.” She smiles knowingly and I shake my head.

“He’s going to expect immediate obedience, which I cannot give.”

“I think that’s exactly what he’s banking on.” She adjusts the baby’s blanket, and I notice thePakhanstanding in the doorway. “Arianna, your brother needs you in the other room.”

“Alright.” I push myself to my feet. “Be back in a second, G.”

“Second door on your left,” Alexey adds, pointing toward a door down the hall.

I follow his directions and see a Brava soldier standing outside the door. Why would he be guarding my brother? Are they afraid Frano will wander the halls and discover all their Russian secrets?

The man nods to me as I approach, and something niggles my memory. Was this the one I saw chatting up Gio’s father at the party? I shake it off. I’ve been imagining threats around every corner lately.

“Ms. Bianchi.” Opening the door, he gives me a respectful tip of his head.

I step inside and let out a little gasp. Maxsim stands by the window, his back to me as he surveys the grounds like a king studying his kingdom.

The atmosphere holds a charge, and I wonder if it’s simply the result of two combustible forces being in close proximity.

Or the thing we refuse to acknowledge.

He turns to face me, his expression unreadable. We just stare at each other. The next moment could be anything. An explosion. A war of words. Or an argument so damaging that we never make it down the aisle.

Maxsim finally speaks; his voice is quiet but sharp as a blade. “Arianna.”

“The devil himself.” His eyes lock onto mine, unblinking, as if he’s trying to see through me. “What did you do with your horns and tale?”

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