Page 16 of Bound Vows (Empire City Syndicate #3)

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.”

I turn to face him, regretting the movement when I realize how close we’re standing. The heat radiating from his body makes my throat dry, especially when his eyes drop to my lips before meeting my gaze again.

“And security?”

“Comprehensive. Electronic surveillance, armed perimeter guards, and enough firepower to repel a small army.” Andrei reaches up to tuck a strand of dark hair behind my ear, making me shiver. “No one enters or leaves the property without my permission.”

“So, escape becomes impossible once we arrive.”

“Escape was already impossible, Maya. This simply makes the parameters more obvious.” His thumb traces the line of my jaw. “Though I prefer to think of it as ensuring our honeymoon remains uninterrupted.”

The finality in his tone settles over me like a burial shroud, but his touch sends goosebumps skittering across my skin. Three days to find a way out of this situation before I become Mrs. Andrei Volkov in front of every crime boss on this side of the country.

“What about my family? Will they be invited to watch their sister marry her kidnapper?”

“Your brother Max will receive an invitation, along with Vincent.” Andrei reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws an elegant envelope sealed with wax. “Whether they choose to attend depends on their assessment of the risks involved.”

I accept the invitation and note how my name is written in elegant script beside Andrei’s. When our fingers brush during the transfer, heat shoots up my arm and settles low in my stomach.

“They won’t come. Max would rather die than watch me marry you.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he’ll recognize that attending demonstrates his acceptance of new realities while refusing suggests continued resistance.

” Andrei moves behind me and places his hands on my shoulders, pulling me back against his chest. “Your brother struck me as a pragmatic man during our phone conversation.”

“My brother struck you as desperate, which makes him dangerous rather than pragmatic.” I should step away from his embrace, but his hands massage the tension in my neck and shoulders with devastating skill.

“Desperation can be channeled into useful directions with proper motivation.” His lips brush against my ear as he speaks. “Your safety provides excellent motivation for reasonable behavior.”

I hate how my body responds to him, even as my mind screams warnings about manipulation and control. When I lean back against him, his arm tightens around my waist.

“Tell me about the other guests.”

“Everyone who wishes to maintain their current territories and operations.” One of his hands slides lower to rest just above my hip bone. “Attendance demonstrates loyalty; absence suggests defiance. Most family heads are smart enough to recognize which option serves their interests.”

“And those who refuse?”

“Will discover that absence from social occasions creates business complications.” His hand moves to turn me around until we’re facing each other. “I expect full attendance given the persuasive conversations I had in Philadelphia.”

I study his face while ignoring how his proximity affects my breathing. “What kind of persuasive conversations?”

“The kind that clarify expectations and consequences in terms that reasonable people understand.” Andrei’s hands settle on my waist. “Frankie Benedetti, for example, was reluctant to attend until I mentioned how much I enjoyed meeting his granddaughter at prep school.”

My blood turns cold despite the heat of his touch. “You threatened a little girl to ensure wedding attendance.”

“I mentioned an adorable child who attends an expensive private school. Nothing more.” His thumbs trace circles on my hips. “Frankie drew his conclusions about what that information might mean.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m a businessman who uses available leverage to achieve desired outcomes.” Andrei leans closer until his forehead nearly touches mine. “Your wedding will proceed as planned, with full attendance from every family that matters.”

The reality of my situation crashes over me, but his touch makes it difficult to focus on anything except the way his breath feels against my skin.

“I need to see the venue,” I announce while projecting confidence I don’t feel. “If I’m going to play the role of willing bride, I need to understand the stage where this performance takes place.”

“Excellent idea. We’ll drive out tomorrow morning to review arrangements.” His hands slide up to frame my face. “Katarina has coordinated with wedding planners to create an event worthy of the occasion.”

“Katarina is planning my wedding. How delightfully appropriate.” I place my hands against his chest, ostensibly to push him away, but find myself drawn to the solid warmth beneath his shirt. “I’m sure she’s selecting flowers and decorations with my best interests at heart.”

“Katarina understands the importance of this event to our organization’s future.” Andrei’s gaze drops to my mouth again. “Personal feelings don’t influence professional responsibilities.”

“Personal feelings like being in love with the groom, you mean.”

His thumb traces my lower lip with feather-light pressure. “You’re imagining things, Piccola. You must learn to temper your jealousy.”

“Even if I am, having your dead wife’s sister plan your second wedding seems like either supreme confidence or complete obliviousness. Which one are you, Andrei?”

“I’m a man who delegates responsibilities to people with appropriate expertise. Katarina’s personal life doesn’t concern me as long as her professional performance remains acceptable.”

“Three days,” I repeat while processing everything he’s told me. “Three days to prepare for the social event of the criminal calendar.”

“Three days to prepare for the beginning of our life together.” Andrei leans down until his lips hover just above mine. “I suggest you use that time to consider how you want to approach your new role.”

“As your enforcer and occasional bedwarmer.”

“As my partner in building something larger than either of our organizations.” His breath mingles with mine. “You could help me create an empire that makes your father’s achievements look like amateur hour, or you could spend our marriage plotting revenge that will never come.”

When he kisses me, it’s soft and persuasive rather than demanding, and I find myself responding despite rational thought screaming at me to resist.

“I’ll consider your offer.” I step back toward the door, my lips tingling from his kiss. “Though I reserve the right to change my mind if the terms prove unsatisfactory.”

“Of course. Though I should mention that marriage contracts are notoriously difficult to renegotiate.” Andrei’s smile carries heat that makes my stomach flutter. “I suggest you read the fine print carefully, Piccola.”

As I leave his study, one thought echoes through my mind with devastating clarity. In three days, I’ll either find a way to escape this nightmare or accept that Maya Mastroni died the night Andrei Volkov decided she belonged to him.