Page 22 of Bound Vows
Chapter 9
Maya
It takes a special kind of desperation to pray into a burner phone while your captor sleeps three doors down.
“Father Bianchi?” I breathe into the device as I crouch in the marble bathroom with the water running to mask any sound that might carry through Andrei’s surveillance system.
“Maya, my child. Thank God you called.” His familiar voice carries relief and worry in equal measure. “Are you safe? Are you hurt?”
“I’m alive and unharmed, though I suspect that could change quickly if Andrei discovers this conversation.” I wrap my robe tighter around myself and settle against the cool bathroom wall. “Tell me about Max. How is my family handling this situation?”
“Your brother is… frantic would be an understatement. He’s mobilizing every resource at his disposal and calling in favors from allies across the Eastern seaboard.” Father Bianchi pauses,and I hear papers rustling in the background. “Though I must tell you, Maya, he faces significant obstacles.”
“What kind of obstacles?”
“Andrei Volkov has connections. Politicians, judges, and law enforcement officials at the highest levels. When Max pressures authorities for assistance, his requests are buried in bureaucratic delays.” The priest’s voice drops to a whisper. “This man has spent sixteen years building a network that reaches into every corner of legitimate power.”
I press my forehead against the wall and close my eyes while my stomach churns with dread. The scope of Andrei’s influence extends far beyond what I witnessed during yesterday’s business meeting. He hasn’t just built a criminal empire; he’s created a shadow government.
“Max has been to see me multiple times,” Father Bianchi continues. “Even before your kidnapping, he was desperately seeking any information about threats to your family. He even offered substantial donations to the church in exchange for help protecting you.”
“Before my kidnapping? What do you mean?”
“Maya, there’s something you need to understand about your current situation. Andrei hasn’t been planning this marriage for weeks or months. He’s been systematically eliminating Italian family leaders for the better part of a year.”
The bathroom tiles suddenly feel cold against my bare feet. “Eliminating how?”
“Accidents, mostly. Business disputes that turn fatal. Territorial wars that conveniently remove his competition.” FatherBianchi’s voice carries the weight of terrible knowledge. “The Torrino family lost their patriarch in a car accident six months ago. The Benedetti organization saw three key lieutenants die in what appeared to be unrelated incidents. Your family was always the primary target, but Andrei has been clearing the board of other players first.”
I clutch the phone tighter while my mind races through implications that make me nauseous. “You’re saying he’s been planning genocide.”
“I’m saying he’s been planning conquest. The marriage to you provides legitimacy for claiming territories that belong to established families. Without that legitimacy, he’s just another invader. With it, he becomes the rightful heir to the power that your father built over decades.”
“So, my compliance enables his campaign against other families.”
“Your compliance might be the only thing preventing him from killing everyone and taking what he wants through violence.” Father Bianchi sighs heavily. “It’s a terrible choice, my child, but perhaps cooperation serves a greater good.”
I stand and pace the small bathroom while I work through the moral complexity of this situation. Marrying Andrei might save my immediate family while dooming countless others to death or subjugation. Refusing could trigger the very genocide I’m trying to prevent.
“There has to be another option.”
“Max believes there is, though it requires significant risk. Vincent has been coordinating with other surviving familyleaders to mount a unified response. They’re planning something, Maya, but I don’t know the details.”
Before I can respond, I hear footsteps in the hallway outside the bathroom. Heavy, angry steps that belong to someone who knows where he’s going and what he expects to find when he arrives.
“I have to go,” I whisper into the phone.
“Maya, wait?—”
I disconnect the call and slip the phone into the pocket of my robe just as the bathroom door explodes inward with enough force to rattle the mirror above the sink.
Andrei fills the doorway like an avenging angel, and his eyes are blazing with fury that transforms his handsome features into something terrifying. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black sweater, but somehow, he projects menace that would make armed soldiers reconsider their life choices.
“Interesting conversation?” His voice is deadly quiet, which makes it more frightening than if he were shouting.
“I was praying,” I reply with as much innocence as I can manage while my heart pounds against my ribs. “Is that forbidden now?”
“Praying requires faith, not technology.” Andrei steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, trapping me in the small space with him. “Though I suppose Father Bianchi provides both spiritual guidance and communication services.”
