Page 64 of Bound Vows
“Russian and Italian soldiers working together,” Max observes with obvious amusement. “Six months ago, that would have been unthinkable. Now, they’re sharing cigarettes and comparing weapon preferences.”
“Common enemies create unlikely alliances,” I reply while studying the building schematics spread across my desk.
Vincent points to several marked positions on the blueprints. “My men are positioned here, here, and here, with direct communication to your security team. Any breach attempts will be met with an overwhelming response from both organizations.”
I nod and close the tactical folder, then check my watch to confirm the evening schedule. “Maya should be finishing her physical therapy session. The doctor cleared her for limited activity, but she’s still recovering from blood loss and muscle damage.”
“Something tells me my sister’s definition of ‘limited’ differs significantly from medical recommendations,” Max says.
“Your sister’s definition of ‘limited’ involves planning elaborate traps for homicidal stalkers while ignoring doctor’s orders about rest and recovery.” I stand and move toward the door. “Which is why she’s under strict supervision until the situation is resolved.”
“Strict supervision from her devoted husband, who would rather die than see her harmed again,” Vincent adds. “I suspect Maya finds that level of protection both touching and suffocating.”
“Maya finds most things both touching and suffocating. It’s part of her charm.”
I leave the security briefing and head to our bedroom, where Maya is supposed to be resting but is probably planning additional ways to use herself as bait. The penthouse has been transformed from a luxury residence into a military compound, where every room contains armed guards and every window offers strategic positioning.
The collaboration between Russian and Italian soldiers continues to amaze me. Men who would have killed each other without hesitation six months ago now coordinate patrol schedules and share intelligence about potential threats. Maya’s influence extends far beyond our relationship, creating bridges between organizations that have been enemies for generations.
I find her where I expected, sitting on our bed with case files spread around her.
“You’re supposed to be resting.” I close the bedroom door behind me.
“Plotting the downfall of a deranged stalker helps with my emotional recovery.” Maya doesn’t look up from the photographs as she sorts them into organized piles. “Besides, sitting around doing nothing makes me think too much about getting shot, nearly drowning, and other recent unpleasant experiences.”
“Thinking about unpleasant experiences is part of processing trauma. Dr. Morrison said that avoiding those thoughts could complicate your psychological healing.”
She looks up from her work and gives me a smile that makes my chest warm despite the circumstances. “How did the security briefing go?”
“Armed personnel positioned throughout the building and surrounding area, with your brothers’ men integrating surprisingly well with mine. We got the word out that we’d be here, so it’s only a matter of time before Katarina makes her move.” I sit on the edge of the bed and gather some of the scattered files. “I remain concerned about using you as bait to draw out someone who’s already tried to kill you once.”
“Using myself as bait is the only way to ensure this ends.” Maya reaches for my hand and interlaces our fingers. “Besides, I have you and our families protecting me. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Everything, which is why we’ve planned for every conceivable contingency and several inconceivable ones.” I bring her hand to my lips and press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “The thought of losing you terrifies me in ways I haven’t experienced since Elena’s death.”
“You’re not going to lose me. I’m too stubborn to die, and too invested in our future to let an obsessed woman destroy what we’re building.” She slides closer until she’s pressed against my side. “Speaking of our future, what happens after we deal with Katarina?”
“After we eliminate the threat to your safety, we focus on consolidating the organizational merger your brother-in-law proposed.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders, careful not to aggravate her healing gunshot wound. “I’ve been thinking about other changes as well.”
“What kind of changes?”
I draw in a breath. “Legitimization. Moving away from operations that require violence and toward business ventures that could be passed to future generations without shame. I’ve spent sixteen years building an empire through blood and fear. Perhaps it’s time to build something through different methods.”
Maya turns in my arms until she’s looking at me. “You’re talking about going legitimate?”
“I want to create something our children can inherit without having to become killers. Something that honors what my family built before they were murdered, rather than perpetuating the cycle of violence that destroyed them.” I trace the line of her jaw with one finger. “Elena always dreamed of a life where love mattered more than territory and children could grow up without learning to use weapons before they learned to read.”
“Elena sounds like a remarkable woman.”
“She was everything good about the world. But you, Maya. … You’re everything strong about the world. You survived kidnapping, forced marriage, and assassination attempts while maintaining your sense of humor and moral compass.” I lean closer until our foreheads touch. “You make me want to be the man Elena fell in love with, rather than the monster her death created.”
“You’re not a monster, Andrei. You’re a survivor who did what was necessary to stay alive and build something meaningful from tragedy. But you’re right. Maybe it’s time to focus on creation rather than destruction.”
“Maybe it is. First, we need to ensure you survive long enough to help me create whatever comes next.”
Maya’s response involves sliding her uninjured arm around my neck and pulling me down for a kiss that tastes like promise and possibility. When we break apart, her green eyes hold something that makes my pulse race.
“Show me what comes next,” she prompts. “Show me the future you want to build with me instead of dwelling on the past that brought us together.” Her fingers move to the buttons of my shirt, working them open. “Show me that you choose me notbecause you’re trapped by circumstances, but because you want to create something beautiful together.”
