Page 35 of Bound Vows
“I’m aware.” I keep my eyes locked on Maya’s face. “The question is whether her cleverness serves our purposes or threatens them. Your brother knows you’re alive, unharmed, and being held in a high-rise building that overlooks Central Park. That information could encourage him to mount a rescue operation, or it could convince him that negotiation serves his interests better than violence.” I stand and walk around the desk until I’m close enough to see the gold flecks in Maya’s green eyes. “Which outcome are you hoping for, Piccola?”
“I’m hoping Max makes smart decisions instead of emotional ones, just like I told him.” Maya tilts her chin up to maintain eye contact.
“Your performance was impressive,” I acknowledge. “Though Alexei is correct about the intelligence you transmitted.”
Maya places her hand on my chest, directly over my heart. “My brother heard reassurance in my voice today. Build on that foundation instead of letting it crumble through silence.”
The warmth of her touch makes coherent thought more difficult than it should be, especially when she’s looking at me with calculation and genuine concern that I find increasingly irresistible.
Before I can respond, my phone chimes with a text message that requires attention. Maya steps back while I check the update from my Philadelphia contacts.
“Good news?” she asks with false casual interest.
“Productive conversations with reasonable people who understand the value of cooperation over conflict.” I pocket the phone and check my watch. “Which reminds me; I have a flight to catch.”
“Of course you do.” Maya stands and heads toward the study door. “I suppose I’ll spend the evening reflecting on family conversations and their potential implications.”
“Maya.”
She pauses at the threshold and turns back toward me. “Yes?”
“Your brother’s voice carried genuine desperation when he heard you were safe. Whatever else I might think about MaxMastroni, his love for his sister is obvious.” I move behind my desk and begin gathering documents for my trip. “Don’t underestimate how far that love might drive him if he believes you’re in danger.”
“And don’t underestimate how far a sister’s love might drive her to protect her family from unnecessary harm.” Maya’s smile carries both warmth and warning. “Safe travels, Andrei. I’ll be here when you return.”
After she leaves, I finish packing my briefcase while replaying every word of the conversation between Maya and her brother. The intelligence she transmitted will indeed help Max narrow his search, but it might also convince him that his sister retains enough freedom and influence to shape her circumstances.
Whether that realization leads to negotiation or escalation remains to be seen.
Chapter 15
Maya
Andrei’s return from Philadelphia comes with the kind of announcement that makes a girl question her life choices, specifically the choice to seduce intelligence from crime bosses.
“Three days,” he declares while setting his briefcase on the study desk with satisfaction. “Our wedding will take place at my Hamptons estate this Saturday evening.”
I nearly choke on the coffee I’m sipping while curled in his leather reading chair. “Three days? That’s not a wedding timeline; that’s a hostage execution schedule.”
“Dramatic as always, Piccola.” Andrei loosens his tie and settles behind his desk like he’s discussing dinner plans rather than my matrimonial doom. “The Philadelphia meetings were remarkably productive. Every family agreed that attending our ceremony would demonstrate their commitment to new territorial arrangements.”
“How lovely. Nothing says ‘happy marriage’ like mandatory attendance from people who’d rather see the bride dead.” I set down my coffee cup to process what he’s telling me.
“This is about establishing legitimacy and demonstrating unity among organizations that have spent generations trying to kill each other.” Andrei opens his laptop and scrolls through guest lists and seating arrangements. “Your presence as my willing bride sends a message that even the most established Italian families recognize the value of cooperation.”
“Willing bride.” I taste the words like they’re poison. “Is that what we’re calling kidnapping and coercion these days?”
“We’re calling it adaptation to changing circumstances.” His fingers pause over the keyboard. “Though I suppose your enthusiasm for the role depends on how you choose to approach the situation.”
The casual way he discusses my enthusiasm makes me want to throw something heavy at his perfectly styled head. Instead, I stand and pace to the window where Central Park spreads below like a reminder of the freedom I’m rapidly losing.
“Tell me about the venue,” I prompt. “If I’m going to be married in three days, I should at least know where my life ends, and my new captivity begins.”
“The Volkov estate in the Hamptons. My family’s ancestral home, rebuilt after the massacre with considerably better security arrangements.” Andrei closes the laptop and gives me his attention. “Three hundred acres of waterfront property, main house with twelve bedrooms, formal gardens, and enough space to accommodate two hundred guests comfortably.”
“Two hundred guests. All of whom will be armed, I assume.”
“All of whom will be family heads and their most trusted lieutenants, but the invitations are strict about no weapons. The Benedetti organization, the Torrino family, and representatives from Chicago, Philadelphia, and Boston.” He stands to join me at the window, positioning himself close enough that his shoulder brushes mine. “Everyone who matters in our world will witness our union.”
