Page 11 of Bound Vows (Empire City Syndicate #3)

Andrei

Wedding dresses make excellent psychological warfare when delivered during breakfast alongside threats of systematic murder.

“The Valentino arrived early this morning,” I announce as Maya enters the dining room. Her posture screams defiance despite the armed escort that brought her from her bedroom. “White silk with hand-sewn pearls. Very traditional for such an unconventional bride.”

Maya drops into her chair without acknowledging the comment, though I notice how her jaw ticks when she spots the garment bag hanging from the chandelier like a ghostly promise. She pours herself coffee, and I find her fury almost as appealing as her compliance would be.

“Not hungry this morning?” I gesture toward the breakfast spread that could feed a small army. “The chef prepared your favorites. Eggs Benedict, fresh fruit, and those little pastries you seem to enjoy.”

“My appetite disappeared somewhere between being locked in my room and waking up under armed guard.” Maya takes a sip of coffee and fixes me with an icy stare. “Though I’m a bit confused. Aren’t prisoner rations supposed to be unappetizing? I was expecting slop.”

“Prisoners don’t receive Armani robes and five-star catering, either.

You’re merely a guest whose privileges have been temporarily suspended due to a breach of trust.” I butter my toast with exaggerated care and let the silence stretch for a moment.

“Speaking of trust, we need to discuss your future role in my organization.”

“I’ve already been told by both you and your lovely sister-in-law that my role is decorative wife and occasional enforcer.”

“Your role is evolving based on demonstrated capabilities and current operational needs, as will always be the case.” I set down my knife and add, “There’s a gathering this weekend. Italian families from across the tri-state area are coming to discuss territorial boundaries and cooperation.”

Maya’s coffee cup pauses halfway to her lips. “Which families?”

“The remaining ones.” I smile in a way that makes her roll her eyes. “They’re meeting to discuss the Russian threat to their traditional power structure.”

“You mean they’re meeting to discuss you.”

“Among other topics, yes. The invitation was quite cordial, though I suspect the underlying message was less welcoming.” I stand and walk to the window, where I pretend to enjoy the view of Central Park. “They want to present a united front against expansion into their territories.”

“And you want me to infiltrate this gathering.”

“I want you to attend as my representative. Your reputation and family connections provide access that my people couldn’t achieve through conventional means.

” I turn back to face her and catch how she grips her coffee cup like a weapon.

I’m ready to dodge if she hurls it my way.

“You’ll gather intelligence about their defensive strategies, identify key decision-makers, and report back with information that will facilitate our eventual acquisition of their assets. ”

Maya sets down her cup with enough force to rattle the saucer. “You want me to spy on Italian families who probably knew my father.”

“I want you to perform reconnaissance that will minimize casualties when we move to consolidate territory. The alternative is a bloodbath that eliminates everyone who opposes our expansion.” I return to my seat and resume eating as if we’re discussing vacation plans rather than espionage.

“Your intelligence could save lives, Maya. Surely that appeals to your moral sensibilities.”

“My moral sensibilities are offended by everything about this conversation.”

“Yet you’re still listening, which tells me you understand the practical necessity of cooperation.

” I take another bite of toast and watch her internal war play out across her features.

“These families will resist integration regardless of our approach. The question is whether that resistance results in strategic surrender or total annihilation.”

Maya pushes her plate away and stands abruptly before pacing to the far side of the dining room in a way that reminds me of a caged predator. “You’re asking me to betray people who’ve been allies to my family for generations.”

“I’m asking you to provide information that will facilitate a peaceful transition of power.

The alternative involves significantly more violence and considerably fewer survivors.

” I watch her pace with an appreciation for the way anger transforms her into something even more magnificent.

“Your participation ensures that reasonable people have opportunities to negotiate rather than simply die.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then we proceed with standard acquisition protocols, beginning with your brother Max.” I pull out my phone and scroll through surveillance footage.

“He had breakfast at Café Reggio this morning. Sat at the corner table, ordered espresso and a croissant, then spent twenty minutes reviewing architectural plans for what looked like a warehouse assault.”

Maya skids to a halt and turns to face me with horror spreading across her face. “You’re watching him.”

“I’m watching everyone who might interfere with our operations.

Max, Vincent, even your sister-in-law Cara, who seems remarkably determined to mount a rescue mission.

” I set the phone aside and continue eating while Maya works through this information.

“They’re planning something ambitious, Maya.

Unfortunately, their planning is taking place under my surveillance. ”

“You bastard.”

“I’m a businessman protecting valuable assets.

Your family’s safety depends on your willingness to participate in activities that serve our mutual interests.

” I finish my eggs and reach for the coffee pot, refilling my cup with complete calm.

“The gathering is Saturday evening. You’ll attend wearing appropriate attire, gather requested intelligence, and return with information that prevents unnecessary bloodshed. ”

Maya returns to her chair but doesn’t sit. Instead, she latches onto the back with white knuckles that betray her emotional state. “What kind of information?”

“Security arrangements, attendance lists, and defensive capabilities of participating families. Who’s allied with whom, what resources they’re pooling, how they plan to coordinate resistance.

” I sip my coffee and note how her breathing has become more controlled as she moves into tactical thinking.

“Standard intelligence-gathering that any competent operative could accomplish.”

“And if they suspect I’m working for you? Word has certainly gotten around that you took me.”

“Then you’ll need to be very convincing about your desire for revenge against the man who kidnapped you.” I smile at the irony of this cover story. “Your presence at this gathering will be seen as evidence that you escaped or were released. No one will suspect that you’re there voluntarily.”

Maya finally sits, though her posture remains rigid with tension. “They’ll want details about your operations, your security, and your weaknesses.”

“Which you’ll provide selectively and offer information that serves our purposes while appearing to cooperate with their intelligence-gathering.” I lean forward with my elbows on the table, watching her face. “You’ll play multiple sides simultaneously, Maya. It requires considerable skill.”

“It requires betraying everything I was raised to believe in.”

“It requires adapting to new circumstances and prioritizing outcomes over ideology.” I stand and walk around the table until I’m behind her chair, close enough to see the tension in her shoulders.

“I don’t think I need to remind you that your family’s survival depends on your ability to successfully navigate this role. ”

Maya tilts her head back to look at me, and her green eyes hold rage and resignation, which tells me she’s approaching acceptance. “And after I provide this intelligence? What happens to the families I’ll be betraying?”

“That depends on their willingness to negotiate. Those who accept integration will maintain their operations under new management. Those who resist will discover that resistance has consequences.” I place my hands on her shoulders, feeling the rigid muscles beneath the silk of her robe.

“Your intelligence determines which families fall into which category.”

“You’re asking me to decide who lives and who dies.”

“I’m asking you to provide information that allows reasonable people to make reasonable choices about their futures.

” I move my hands to the base of her neck, massaging gently.

“The deaths that result from resistance are the responsibility of those who choose to resist, not the person who provided tactical intelligence.”

Maya leans into the massage despite herself, and I feel some of the tension leave her shoulders. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“I have sixteen years of planning behind every decision I make. That includes contingencies for moral objections from reluctant partners.” I continue working at the knots in her neck while she debates internally.

“Your participation ensures minimal casualties among people you care about. Your refusal guarantees maximum casualties among people you care about.”

“Some choice.”

“All choices involve tradeoffs between competing priorities. The question is whether you prioritize abstract principles or concrete lives.” I step back and return to my seat, giving her space to reach the conclusion I know she’s approaching.

“Your brother’s life, Vincent’s life, your sister’s children, both born and the one she’s carrying—these are real things that require protection. ”

Maya closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths before opening them again with resolve that tells me the battle is won. “What do you need me to do?”

“Attend the gathering as a recently escaped kidnapping victim seeking allies for revenge. Express anger about your treatment, demand support for retaliation, and listen carefully to everything they reveal about their defensive preparations.” I pull out a folder containing photographs and background information.

“These are the key players you’ll encounter.

Study their relationships, their territorial boundaries, and their individual motivations. ”

Maya opens the folder and examines the contents with a professional focus that impresses me. “The Benedetti patriarch will be there?”

“Frankie Benedetti, along with his three sons and their replacement lieutenants. They control shipping through New Jersey ports and maintain connections with families in Philadelphia.” I point to a photograph of a distinguished older man with silver hair.

“He’s the most influential voice in any coalition they might form. ”

“And you want me to determine their shipping schedules, security protocols, and financial vulnerabilities.”

“Among other things, yes. The more comprehensive your intelligence, the cleaner our eventual operations can be.” I watch her study each photograph with the attention of someone memorizing faces for future reference.

“Frankie has a weakness for attractive women who remind him of his late wife. You’ll sit near him during dinner. ”

Maya looks up from the folder with disgust clear on her face. “You want me to seduce him for information.”

“I want you to charm him into revealing operational details that will save lives when we move against his organization. Whether that requires seduction depends on your assessment of what motivates him.” I close the folder and slide it across the table toward her.

“You have three days to prepare. I suggest you use that time to perfect your performance as a vengeful victim seeking justice.”

Maya stands and tucks the folder under her arm. “And if this goes wrong? If they suspect I’m working for you despite my best efforts?”

“Then you’ll discover why I chose you for this operation rather than sending someone expendable.

” I finish my coffee and set the cup aside with finality.

“Your family name provides protection that my regular operatives lack. Even if they suspect deception, they won’t risk harming a Mastroni without absolute proof. ”

I stand and gesture toward the wedding dress hanging from the chandelier. “Think of Saturday’s performance as a rehearsal for our upcoming ceremony. Both require you to play a role that serves larger purposes.”

Maya follows my line of sight to the dress, and something in her posture shifts toward acceptance of her fate. “When is the wedding?”

“Next week. Father Bianchi will perform the ceremony, assuming he remains available for such duties. Your performance Saturday determines whether he’ll be conducting a wedding or a funeral.”

Maya heads toward the dining room exit but pauses at the threshold. “You really think you can control everything, don’t you?”

“As I said, Maya, I think sixteen years of planning has prepared me for most contingencies, including moral objections from beautiful women with misplaced loyalty.” I smile at her retreating figure.

“The question is whether you’re smart enough to recognize inevitability when it’s standing in front of you. ”