Page 24 of Bound Vows
Chapter 10
Andrei
Wedding dresses make excellent psychological warfare when delivered during breakfast alongside threats of systematic murder.
“The Valentino arrived early this morning,” I announce as Maya enters the dining room. Her posture screams defiance despite the armed escort that brought her from her bedroom. “White silk with hand-sewn pearls. Very traditional for such an unconventional bride.”
Maya drops into her chair without acknowledging the comment, though I notice how her jaw ticks when she spots the garment bag hanging from the chandelier like a ghostly promise. She pours herself coffee, and I find her fury almost as appealing as her compliance would be.
“Not hungry this morning?” I gesture toward the breakfast spread that could feed a small army. “The chef prepared yourfavorites. Eggs Benedict, fresh fruit, and those little pastries you seem to enjoy.”
“My appetite disappeared somewhere between being locked in my room and waking up under armed guard.” Maya takes a sip of coffee and fixes me with an icy stare. “Though I’m a bit confused. Aren’t prisoner rations supposed to be unappetizing? I was expecting slop.”
“Prisoners don’t receive Armani robes and five-star catering, either. You’re merely a guest whose privileges have been temporarily suspended due to a breach of trust.” I butter my toast with exaggerated care and let the silence stretch for a moment. “Speaking of trust, we need to discuss your future role in my organization.”
“I’ve already been told by both you and your lovely sister-in-law that my role is decorative wife and occasional enforcer.”
“Your role is evolving based on demonstrated capabilities and current operational needs, as will always be the case.” I set down my knife and add, “There’s a gathering this weekend. Italian families from across the tri-state area are coming to discuss territorial boundaries and cooperation.”
Maya’s coffee cup pauses halfway to her lips. “Which families?”
“The remaining ones.” I smile in a way that makes her roll her eyes. “They’re meeting to discuss the Russian threat to their traditional power structure.”
“You mean they’re meeting to discuss you.”
“Among other topics, yes. The invitation was quite cordial, though I suspect the underlying message was less welcoming.” I stand and walk to the window, where I pretend to enjoy the viewof Central Park. “They want to present a united front against expansion into their territories.”
“And you want me to infiltrate this gathering.”
“I want you to attend as my representative. Your reputation and family connections provide access that my people couldn’t achieve through conventional means.” I turn back to face her and catch how she grips her coffee cup like a weapon. I’m ready to dodge if she hurls it my way. “You’ll gather intelligence about their defensive strategies, identify key decision-makers, and report back with information that will facilitate our eventual acquisition of their assets.”
Maya sets down her cup with enough force to rattle the saucer. “You want me to spy on Italian families who probably knew my father.”
“I want you to perform reconnaissance that will minimize casualties when we move to consolidate territory. The alternative is a bloodbath that eliminates everyone who opposes our expansion.” I return to my seat and resume eating as if we’re discussing vacation plans rather than espionage. “Your intelligence could save lives, Maya. Surely that appeals to your moral sensibilities.”
“My moral sensibilities are offended by everything about this conversation.”
“Yet you’re still listening, which tells me you understand the practical necessity of cooperation.” I take another bite of toast and watch her internal war play out across her features. “These families will resist integration regardless of our approach. The question is whether that resistance results in strategic surrender or total annihilation.”
Maya pushes her plate away and stands abruptly before pacing to the far side of the dining room in a way that reminds me of a caged predator. “You’re asking me to betray people who’ve been allies to my family for generations.”
“I’m asking you to provide information that will facilitate a peaceful transition of power. The alternative involves significantly more violence and considerably fewer survivors.” I watch her pace with an appreciation for the way anger transforms her into something even more magnificent. “Your participation ensures that reasonable people have opportunities to negotiate rather than simply die.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then we proceed with standard acquisition protocols, beginning with your brother Max.” I pull out my phone and scroll through surveillance footage. “He had breakfast at Café Reggio this morning. Sat at the corner table, ordered espresso and a croissant, then spent twenty minutes reviewing architectural plans for what looked like a warehouse assault.”
Maya skids to a halt and turns to face me with horror spreading across her face. “You’re watching him.”
“I’m watching everyone who might interfere with our operations. Max, Vincent, even your sister-in-law Cara, who seems remarkably determined to mount a rescue mission.” I set the phone aside and continue eating while Maya works through this information. “They’re planning something ambitious, Maya. Unfortunately, their planning is taking place under my surveillance.”
“You bastard.”
“I’m a businessman protecting valuable assets. Your family’s safety depends on your willingness to participate in activities that serve our mutual interests.” I finish my eggs and reach for the coffee pot, refilling my cup with complete calm. “The gathering is Saturday evening. You’ll attend wearing appropriate attire, gather requested intelligence, and return with information that prevents unnecessary bloodshed.”
Maya returns to her chair but doesn’t sit. Instead, she latches onto the back with white knuckles that betray her emotional state. “What kind of information?”
“Security arrangements, attendance lists, and defensive capabilities of participating families. Who’s allied with whom, what resources they’re pooling, how they plan to coordinate resistance.” I sip my coffee and note how her breathing has become more controlled as she moves into tactical thinking. “Standard intelligence-gathering that any competent operative could accomplish.”
