Page 17 of Bound Vows
I approach the coffee table cautiously, noting how Katarina positions herself to block my access to the nearest exit. Professional paranoia or good instincts, this woman is dangerous either way.
The documents laid out before me reveal the scope of Andrei’s empire in incredible detail. Shipping manifests show regular cargo runs from ports in Miami to Boston, with stops in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York. The quantities listed tell a story of operations that dwarf anything my family has everattempted: thousands of containers moving through legitimate shipping companies that Andrei owns or controls.
“Impressive.” I scan a financial summary that makes my head spin. Numbers with too many zeros to count easily and profit margins that would make Fortune 500 companies green with envy. “Though I have to ask… where do I fit into this corporate structure?”
“That depends on your willingness to embrace your new circumstances. Andrei believes you could be… useful… in certain capacities.”
I sit down, taking care to keep my hands visible and my body relaxed despite every instinct screaming at me to stay ready for violence. The organizational charts spread in front of me show a hierarchy that makes the military look like a backwoods militia. Territory maps reveal that Andrei’s influence stretches from Canada to Florida, with particularly strong footholds in major cities along the Eastern seaboard.
“Useful how?”
“Your reputation precedes you, Maya Mastroni. Twelve confirmed kills, specialist in close-quarters combat, particular expertise with bladed weapons.” Katarina recites my statistics like she’s reading a resume. “Those skills could prove valuable in our expanding operations.”
“You want me to be your enforcer. Andrei has explained that much.”
“When the situation calls for it, certainly.” Katarina pulls out another set of documents—personnel files with photographs attached. “But we have operations that require someonewith your particular background. Delicate situations where a woman’s touch might prove… persuasive.”
The files show faces I don’t recognize, but the locations listed beside their names tell a story of international scope. Miami, Boston, Chicago, Las Vegas—Andrei’s reach extends far beyond New York’s five boroughs.
“This is significantly larger than what my family operates,” I admit as I peruse through reports that detail drug distribution networks, money laundering operations, and legitimate businesses that serve as fronts.
“The Mastroni family controls perhaps five percent of New York’s criminal activity,” Katarina says with obvious satisfaction. “Andrei controls thirty percent of the Eastern seaboard. The comparison isn’t even close.”
She’s not wrong, which makes this conversation even more disturbing. The financial documents spread across the table represent a wealth and influence my family has been working toward for generations. Andrei built this empire in sixteen years, starting from nothing but rage and a chip on his shoulder.
“And if I refuse to play my assigned role?”
“Then you’ll discover how thoroughly Andrei can dismantle everything you hold dear.” Katarina’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes turn arctic. “He’s very good at taking things apart, piece by piece, until nothing remains but memories and regret.”
The threat is delivered so casually that it takes me a moment to catch the malice behind it. Katarina isn’t just warning me about Andrei’s capabilities; she’s telling me what she’ll recommend if I step out of line.
“How reassuring. And what about you, Katarina? What’s your role in this organization?”
“Intelligence. Strategy. Ensuring that Andrei’s interests are protected from all threats, internal and external.” She gathers the documents into neat piles and adds, “I’ve been his most trusted advisor since Elena’s death. That relationship won’t change simply because he’s acquiring a new wife.”
There it is. The real source of Katarina’s hostility isn’t just that she’s protective of her boss; it’s jealousy. I suspect she’s spent years positioning herself as Andrei’s closest confidante with a particular goal in mind, and my presence threatens that carefully constructed dynamic.
“I see. And does Andrei know about your feelings for him?”
Katarina’s hands freeze in the middle of organizing papers, and her mask slips away for just an instant. The naked longing that crosses her face answers my question more clearly than words ever could.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She recovers quickly, but the damage is done.
“Of course you don’t.” I lean back in my chair and cross one leg over the other. “Tell me, how long have you been in love with your dead sister’s husband?”
“Careful, Maya.” Katarina’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “You’re walking on very thin ice.”
“Am I? Because from where I sit, it looks like you’ve been playing the grieving sister-in-law while harboring fantasies about taking Elena’s place.”
The accusation hits home. I can see it in the way Katarina’s knuckles go white where she holds the portfolio. She’s been carrying this torch for years, probably since before Elena died, and now some Italian interloper is threatening to steal what she considers rightfully hers.
“Elena was everything to him,” Katarina declares through gritted teeth. “Beautiful, gentle, perfect in every way. You could never replace what he lost.”
“I’m not trying to replace anyone. I’m trying to survive being kidnapped by a madman.”
“Survive?” Katarina throws her head back and laughs. “You have no idea how good you have it. Do you know what Andrei does to people who betray him? I’ve seen him peel skin from living men until they begged for death. I’ve watched him destroy entire families because someone dared to cross him.”
She leans forward as her eyes blaze with fanatic devotion. “And yet, he treats you like precious cargo. Comfortable rooms, excellent food, freedom to roam his home. You’re living better than most people dream of, and you have the audacity to complain.”
