Page 86 of Twisted Vows

Anton and Vincenzo nod, and ten minutes later, a fireball erupts, lighting up the night sky.

We slowly walk back to the waiting chopper and I pull out my phone. Ari’s message is already waiting:Are you alive, husband?

I type back:It’s done.

The wind howls louder as the chopper lifts off, the flames shrinking into the distance. Sal is dead. Giovanni is dead. The alliance will survive.

But I know the real battle is just beginning. Not with theFamiglia, or Sal’s remaining allies, but with her—with us.

I told myself I didn’t need her—didn’t need anyone. But I’ve never been more wrong. Because as much as I hate to admit it, control isn’t the most important thing, she is.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Maxsim

The helicopter’s blades whine as they slow to a stop, the sound grating against my ears. My brother’s estate looms in front of me, its high stone walls and arched windows stoic and unmoving.

My body screams for rest, but my mind doesn’t quiet. The weight of everything presses hard: Sal’s schemes. The betrayal of someone I trusted. The sheer mess that remains in the aftermath.

The stink of blood and burnt metal still clings to me, a reminder that we are victorious. But somehow, it feels hollow since the real battle isn’t over.

It’s waiting for me in the garden, wrapped in silk and steel.

Gravel crunches beneath my boots as I step off the helicopter and search for my beloved. I see her standing near the stone bench under the sprawling branches of an old oak.

The early morning light softens her silhouette, catching in her hair and haloing her figure against the shadows of the tree.

She’s wrapped in a sweater, her posture impossibly straight. Even from here, she radiates tension—a wire pulled too tight.

My wife is a complication. A distraction. An obsession.

Something I was supposed to control. But now? Now she’s the only thing I want to lose control for.

I study her as emotions twist inside me. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of something, staring down, knowing that if I take one more step, there will be no going back.

“I don’t bite, Maxsim.”

“I know.” I force my legs to move, each step slow and deliberate, gravel crunching underfoot. When I get close enough, I see the tight set of her shoulders. “Curiosity planted itself in my chest the first time I saw you,” I say quietly. Fiercely. “I couldn’t believe such a creature existed and was sure that once I got to know you, the obsession would lessen.”

“And how is that working out for you?”

“It’s not.” I take another step closer. “There is a chain linking us,” I say quietly, the words heavy on my tongue, “One that will never be broken.”

Her fingers move across my knuckles, and I realize I haven’t been touched with such gentleness since I was a kid. “So I guess it’s time I find a way to let you in.”

“You can’t just say words, Maxsim.” She steps closer, and I catch the faintest hint of jasmine lingering on her skin. Her eyes bore into mine, and I see it clearly—the hope she’s trying to bury, the way she’s bracing herself for disappointment.

“You think I should be satisfied with promises?” Her voice is soft but edged like a blade. “I’ve had promises my whole life, Maxsim. Words don’t mean anything when men like you are the ones speaking them.”

“If you want me... then you have to show me. Every day. Not with orders. Not with rules. With trust.”

The air between us feels charged. She’s not letting me off the hook. She’s demanding more from me than anyone ever has.

For a long moment, I say nothing. Words have always been a tool for me—a means to manipulate, to control. But this isdifferent. She’s not asking for words. She’s asking for something I don’t know if I can give.

And yet...

I tighten my hold on her hands. My grip is firm but careful, my thumb brushing against her skin in a way that feels too tender for a man like me.

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