Page 27 of Bound Vows
“Elena didn’t require confidence lessons. She possessed natural poise that commanded attention in any room.” He finishes thelast button and steps back to admire his handiwork. “Though she never had to pretend to be someone else.”
Something in his tone makes me turn to face him, and I catch a hint of affection that he quickly masks behind his usual arrogance. The mention of his dead wife has opened a wound that even sixteen years haven’t healed.
“That’s a conversation for another day.”
I press my lips together. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Her death taught me valuable lessons about the price of caring too much for people who can be used against you. Though some lessons prove more difficult to implement than others.”
His hands settle on my waist, and despite everything I know about this man’s capacity for violence, I don’t pull away. The heat between us has built since that first night in the gym, and being so close to him only makes it more difficult to ignore.
“The communication device,” I say, trying to redirect focus toward mission requirements.
Andrei reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws what looks like an expensive earring designed with tiny diamonds. When he brushes aside my hair to attach it, his breath against my neck makes me suppress a moan.
“One tap for yes, two for no, three for emergency extraction.” His fingers linger at the base of my throat as he explains the device’s operation. “I’ll monitor your location and communications throughout the evening.” Andrei steps back and retrieves a small pistol from his desk drawer. “This goes in your purse. Use it only if necessary.”
I take the weapon and check its weight and balance out of habit, noting the custom grip that’s been modified for smaller hands. Even his contingency planning reflects intimate knowledge of my physical requirements.
Sophia returns with accessories that complete my transformation—a second diamond earring that matches the communication device, a vintage clutch that conceals the pistol, and shoes designed for someone who might need to run in formal wear. When I check my reflection in the full-length mirror, Maya Mastroni has disappeared.
“Perfect,” Andrei declares as he studies my transformed appearance. “No one will recognize the woman who walked into this room.”
“Let’s hope they don’t recognize the woman walking out, either.”
Before leaving for the mission, I excuse myself to use the bathroom and quickly access Andrei’s computer while Sophia cleans up her supplies. His password protection proves less sophisticated than expected, probably because he doesn’t anticipate threats from within his penthouse. I’m looking for information on the men who will be in this meeting, but what I find is much more useful.
The files I discover reveal the true scope of his family’s massacre—photographs of crime scenes that look like war zones, medical records documenting injuries that should have killed him, and psychological evaluations that chart his transformation from traumatized teenager to cold killer. One folder contains Elena’s autopsy report alongside wedding photos that show a younger, happier version of the man who’s holding my family hostage.
The most devastating file contains audio recordings of his family’s final moments, captured by security systems that couldn’t save them but preserved their terror for posterity. I download everything onto a hidden drive before returning to the main room, my understanding of Andrei Volkov fundamentally altered by what I’ve learned.
He’s not just a criminal seeking profit or territory. He’s a broken man trying to resurrect a family that died sixteen years ago, and everyone who stands in his way represents another obstacle to an impossible goal.
The gathering takesplace in a private dining room at Osteria del Borgo, where Italian families have conducted business for three generations. I arrive fashionably late as Lucia Bellanti, distant cousin of the Chicago family who tragically lost her fiancé in a recent territorial dispute—a cover story that explains both my presence and my single status. The name opens doors and garners sympathetic nods from security before I take my assigned seat near Frankie Benedetti, who immediately regales me with stories about the old country while other conversations swirl around us without a care in the world that I’m a stranger. I guess beauty does that to a man.
“You remind me of my dear Lucia,” Frankie tells me over the antipasti course. “She had the same way of listening that made men want to tell her their secrets.”
“I’m honored by the comparison.” I flash the sweetest smile I can manage. “Though I suspect your wife was far more accomplished than I could ever hope to be.”
The evening progresses exactly as Andrei predicted, with Frankie revealing operational details between courses while other family representatives discuss territorial boundaries and mutual defense agreements. I smile and nod and store every piece of information for later.
“Max Mastroni came to see me last week,” Frankie mentions during the main course. “Poor boy is beside himself with worry about his sister. Keeps demanding we mobilize everything to find her. He was supposed to be here, but I suppose he’s out there, trying to find her.”
“Has anyone heard anything about Maya’s situation?” asks a voice from across the table.
“Nothing confirmed. Max claims she was taken by Russians, but he’s made increasingly desperate demands for assistance.” Another patriarch shakes his head sadly. “The boy’s always been volatile, but this situation has pushed him past rationality.”
My heart clenches at hearing my brother described this way, though I pretend to remain aloof. Max’s aggressive approach to my rescue might endanger the very people he’s trying to enlist for help.
“Family makes us all a little crazy,” I observe while Frankie pats my hand in grandfatherly comfort.
“Wise words from such a young woman,” he agrees before launching into another story about shipping schedules that provides the kind of operational intelligence Andrei requires.
By evening’s end, I’ve gathered enough information to dismantle three family operations while maintaining my cover as a charming dinner companion.
I nail the performance, even though it means screwing over men who knew my father.
As I leave, Frankie kisses my hand and invites me to visit his family’s vineyard in Tuscany. The kindness in his eyes turns my stomach with guilt, knowing that my intelligence will probably result in his destruction within weeks.
