Page 44 of Bound Vows
“How reassuring.”
The convoy consists of three black SUVs with enough armor plating to stop artillery shells, plus a lead vehicle that I assume contains advanced security. I count at least twelve men in tactical gear, all carrying weapons designed for extended combat rather than personal protection.
“Expecting trouble?” I ask as Andrei helps me into the middle vehicle.
“Expecting possibilities.” He settles beside me and signals the driver to begin moving. “Max’s coalition-building has accelerated since the wedding. Intelligence suggests coordinated planning between multiple families.”
“My brother is trying to rescue me. How shocking.”
“Your brother is planning something that will require significant resources and careful timing.” Andrei pulls out his phone and scrolls through surveillance reports. “The question is whether he’s planning extraction or elimination.”
“Elimination?”
“Removing me from the equation permanently would solve several problems for the Italian families. Without my leadership, my organization would fragment and create opportunities for territorial reclamation.” He shows me a photograph of Max meeting with men I don’t recognize. “Your rescue could be secondary to broader strategic objectives.”
The image makes my stomach drop, and I squint past the dizziness. Max looks older, more haggard than I remember, something I noticed during the wedding yesterday. The men around him carry themselves like professional soldiers rather than typical family muscle.
“Who are they? I don’t recognize them.”
“Military contractors with specializations in extraction and elimination. The kind of people who charge premium rates for operations against heavily defended targets.” Andrei closes thephone and slips it back into his jacket. “Your brother is either planning the rescue of the century or my funeral. Possibly both.”
“You sound almost impressed.”
“I am impressed. Max is thinking strategically rather than emotionally, which makes him significantly more dangerous.” He reaches for my hand and interlaces our fingers. “Though his planning assumes you’ll be willing to leave when the opportunity arises.”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”
He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug and says, “Because you’re still here despite multiple opportunities to signal for help or create chaos that would facilitate rescue. You could have caused problems during the wedding, passed information to family members, or created situations that would force immediate extraction.”
“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re discovering that what we have together is worth more than whatever freedom you think you’re missing.” Andrei lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. “The mountain house will provide clarity about your feelings.”
The gesture sends electricity racing up my arm, and I curse my body’s betrayal as heat pools between my legs. When he looks at me with hunger and possessiveness and something that could be mistaken for affection, it’s nearly impossible to remember why I should hate him.
“You’re very confident about the outcome,” I breathe out.
“I’m confident about what I see in your eyes when you look at me. You can pretend to hate me all you want, Piccola, but your body tells a different story.”
“My body is a traitor that doesn’t understand the difference between lust and love.”
“Perhaps that’s because there isn’t as much difference as you think.” Andrei’s hand moves to my thigh, where his fingers draw patterns through the fabric of my jeans. “Physical attraction becomes emotional connection when it’s paired with genuine understanding and respect.”
“Respect.” I laugh, though the sound comes out strained.
His hand moves higher, close enough to where I need him most that my breathing becomes shallow. “You were made for this life, Maya. Made for me.”
Before I can reply, the convoy slows as we approach what looks like a military checkpoint. Armed guards emerge from a concealed bunker and examine our vehicles with technology that’s far beyond typical security measures.
“Welcome to the outer perimeter,” Andrei announces as he rolls down his window to speak with the guards. “The inner compound is another twenty minutes through terrain that would challenge most vehicles.”
“How many people live up here?”
“Twelve permanent residents, all former military with specialized training in close protection and tactical operations.” He nods to the guards, who wave us through. “They’ve been with me for years and understand the importance of discretion.”
“And the nearest neighbors?”
“Don’t exist. I own ten thousand acres of wilderness that creates a natural buffer against unwanted visitors.” The road narrows to little more than a trail as we climb into mountains that seem to extend endlessly in all directions. “The only access is through the checkpoint you just saw, and that can be sealed or defended indefinitely.”
