Page 35 of No Vow Broken

That risk had, so far, been the best decision of his career. He’d amassed billions. His secret online business had been more profitable than he could ever have imagined. The effort of hiding that money in numerous offshore accounts became so complicated that he had to hire a small army of accountants to work it out. Not to mention the dozens of bankers whose hands he’d personally greased to make the money flow smoothly.

He was a handsome and distinguished-looking man. Although Boris had recently turned fifty-four and had gray hair, he had a lot of it, and kept his body in good shape. He’d had three wives and four children—two daughters and two sons. His latest wife was just twenty-two, a rising blonde model and actress from St. Petersburg. She was six years younger than his youngest son. He wouldn’t take another wife—unless she crossed him—as he already had three other capable mistresses who kept him thoroughly occupied and stimulated in different ways. But appearances and the envy of others were important to him. He deserved and wanted the most beautiful woman on his arm at official functions, so he’d taken a third wife who he presumed would look good for many more years to come. If she didn’t, there was always someone younger who desired the opulent lifestyle he offered and wouldn’t refuse him.

Life was excellent.

Excellent, that is, until six months ago when the US government started taking a closer look at him and his online enterprises. Either his people had gotten sloppy or they’d been tipped off by one of his competitors. His ransomware hacks were frequently blocked and shut down, and his secret and lucrative business started to take a significant hit. His money was being tracked by foreign entities, most likely the Americans again. He had to juggle funds and money just to keep ahead of the meddlers.

He was managing that huge problem when therealdisaster struck.

Someone, somehow, had exposed his ties to the Russian government and publicly identified those people he had in his pocket. Overnight, he became a serious liability to those in power. It had taken everything, including significant amounts of money, to spin things and keep them stabilized. It had worked…for now. But the continued anonymous investigation and scrutiny of his empire remained a monumental threat. That meant he needed to focus his resources on finding out and shutting down whoever had been coming after him.

Boris didn’t care who it was or what influence they held in their little part of the world. Presidents, prime ministers, kings… all were game if they threatened him. He had the money to carry out the highest level of operations and assassinations, and he would spare no expense. He had only to take extreme care that the action in no way or form could be traced back to him. While he held a strong personal disdain for politics and politicians, the people he now held tenuously in his pocket cared a lot, and he had to carefully protect that. Every precaution would be taken and implemented. Complex plans would be meticulously detailed and precisely executed so not a single string led back to him.

That was nonnegotiable.

But make no mistake. He was coming for whomever had crossed him. They’d challenged the wrong man. He wouldn’t stop until they were dead, and he didn’t care who else, or how many, died as collateral damage.

He had a statement to make.

No one crossed Boris Plotnikov.

NINETEEN

Slash

Sirens screamed in the distance as members of the counterassault team walked through the carnage of the dining room, glass crunching under their shoes as they tossed pieces of broken antique furniture and dishes out of the way.

After the hordes of Secret Service, state police, and ambulances arrived, we waited another half hour for them to declare the house and grounds clear. I’d been cuffed temporarily, as had a few others like Hands, Tito, Beau, and Xavier, but once they sorted out who we were, they’d released us. But we were kept under careful watch, which was standard protocol. We’d be treated as suspects until we weren’t.

I’d managed to give my parents and Nonna a quick hug and assured myself they were unharmed although clearly shaken. I glanced around seeing a mix of expressions from confusion and shock to crying and anger. I gave supportive nods to everyone, except I didn’t quite meet Lexi’s father’s eyes. I wasn’t ready to do that yet. How could I explain why this kind of thing was happening yet again?

I sighed inwardly. I didn’t think it was my fault, but what if it was? I didn’t blame her father for being upset. Maybe Lexi wasn’t the only one who needed a little black cloud spreadsheet.

Once we were all gathered in the dining room, we were instructed not to talk to each other. Clearly, they wanted to get an untainted story of the night’s events from everyone present, but they still had to keep us safe until they could officially confirm the area was clear. I kept Lexi close, helping her clean the blood off her hands and dress, continually thanking God that she, like my entire family, was safe. Anything else, we could work out later.

Since I was shirtless, I’d been tossed a blanket by the medical staff, so I tucked it around both Lexi and me. Since so many windows and doors were smashed, the cool spring air wafted through the house, keeping everyone shivering.

While we waited, I gave the Secret Service counterassault team leader, Agent Danny Santiago, a brief rundown of events from my perspective. I knew this would not be my full debrief by any means and that more would follow. But Agent Santiago was trying to get an immediate assessment of the situation, so I accommodated him.

The first lady had been found shaken, but unhurt, and had been whisked away within the first few minutes of the team’s arrival. Agents Glass, Flax, and Troy, along with Gio, had also been taken away by ambulance while the rest of us had been checked out onsite by the medics. Gio had given me a thumbs-up on his way to the ambulance, so I knew he was going to be okay.

I counted that among my many blessings this evening, so I kissed my father’s cross around my neck for the fifteenth time this night and said another prayer of thanks.

It could have been alotworse.

I had no idea of the condition of the agents and police who’d been stationed outside, save for Agent Flanigan, who’d been deceased when I encountered him. I wasn’t hopeful regarding the rest of the outdoor team. The attackers had been well-trained professionals. It was doubtful close-up encounter with them would have resulted in anything other than death, especially since the assassins had the benefit of surprise.

Once the house and surrounding area had been deemed clear, they began to decide our transport, to be followed by what would certainly be a thorough individual debrief. As the Bluff House was now a crime scene, I presumed the Maryland State Police would be leading an investigation. We were fortunate Beau happened to know one of the officers, and he was able to get us advance information on what would happen to us next.

The police and Secret Service planned to take us back to Washington for questioning as soon as possible. Because it was late and there were so many of us, they’d rented several rooms for us at a downtown hotel not too far from Secret Service headquarters. The police would conduct their interviews with us at the hotel first and then release us to the Secret Service so they could do their own debriefs to determine who might be behind the attempt on the first lady’s life.

Thankfully, none of us were considered suspects in the attack, just victims. Multiple agents and officers came up to me after surveying all the damage to the house and commended me and the others for holding out the way we did.

“What you did here…it’s nothing short of amazing,” one of the senior agents said to Lexi and me. “Just who the hell are you guys, anyway?”

“I’m the bride,” Lexi said, shrugging, then pointed at me. “And he’s the groom.”

When we didn’t offer any further explanation, the agent shook his head in disbelief and walked off while Lexi and I exchanged a little smile.

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