Page 20 of Bound Vows (Empire City Syndicate #3)

Maya

Packing for a honeymoon when you’re unsure whether you’ll return alive requires a special kind of optimism that I’m rapidly losing as Andrei’s men load his luggage into armored vehicles.

“Only essentials,” Andrei instructs from the doorway of our temporary bedroom, though his definition of essentials includes enough firepower to level a small city. “The mountain house is fully stocked with everything we’ll need for an extended stay.”

“Extended stay.” I fold another sweater and slip a small nail file between the layers, just in case. “How extended are we talking?”

He approaches the bed where I’m organizing clothes and picks up a silk blouse, running the fabric between his fingers. “Until you’re ready to embrace your new role as Mrs. Volkov without reservation. The isolation will give us time to develop our… relationship without outside interference.”

“Relationship.” I snatch the blouse from his hands and stuff it into the suitcase. “Is that what we’re calling imprisonment now?”

“It’s a honeymoon in a location where we can focus on each other.” Andrei sits on the edge of the bed, close enough that his knee bumps mine. “No family obligations, no business interruptions, and no competing loyalties. Just us.”

An unwelcome heat flushes through my body, and I despise how my pulse erupts when he touches me even a little. I’ve been with him for weeks now, and I still respond to him like a teenager with her first crush, despite knowing the kind of monster he is.

“Just us and however many armed guards you’re bringing for security.” I close the suitcase and drag it toward the door. “Very romantic.”

Andrei intercepts my path, forcing me to stop inches from his chest. “Security is necessary given recent events. The warehouse attack demonstrates that our enemies view this marriage as an opportunity rather than a deterrent.”

“What warehouse attack?” I look up at him and note the way his face draws tight. “You haven’t mentioned any attacks.”

“The Gallo family tested our defenses during the wedding reception. They discovered that testing me has consequences. Six of my men died because someone wanted to send a message.” His hand moves to cup my face, and his thumb traces my cheekbone.

“What kind of consequences?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he replies, “It seems that Christopher Gallo’s son missed his morning bus until his father learns proper respect.

” Andrei’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper that makes my stomach flutter.

“No one threatens what belongs to me without experiencing permanent repercussions.”

“You kidnapped a child.”

“I acquired leverage.” His thumb continues its slow path across my skin. “The boy will be returned unharmed once his family atones. A business transaction with clear terms and conditions.”

I should be horrified by his casual discussion of kidnapping children, but all I can focus on is how his touch makes my pussy ache and my skin burn. The headache that’s built since this morning pounds harder behind my eyes, quickly squashing the feeling, and I blink against the dizziness.

“You’re pale,” Andrei observes as his free hand moves to my forehead. “Are you feeling well?”

“Wedding stress. Too much excitement and not enough sleep.” I step back from his touch before I do something stupid like lean into it. “I’ll be fine once we reach wherever you’re taking me.”

“The Blue Ridge Mountains. Three hours southwest of the city, in a location that doesn’t appear on any public maps.” He picks up my suitcase and heads for the door. “You’ll find the scenery quite beautiful, though the accommodations prioritize security over luxury.”

“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 the phone 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.”

“Defended against what?”

“Military assault, aerial attack, or siege operations.” Andrei’s hand returns to my thigh, higher this time, and I bite back a moan. “The facility was designed to withstand anything short of nuclear bombardment.”

“Cheerful honeymoon destination.”

His fingers find the seam of my jeans and move along it with maddening slowness. “I suspect we’ll find ways to entertain ourselves regardless of the amenities.”

The main house emerges from the forest like something from a tactical fairy tale.

It’s a stone-and-steel construction that looks elegant from a distance but reveals its fortress nature up close.

Gun ports are disguised as decorative elements, the reinforced windows could stop rifle fire, and the defensive positions would make military engineers weep with envy.

“Home sweet home,” I mumble as we pull into a courtyard.

“Home sweet fortress,” Andrei corrects. “Though I think you’ll find the interior more welcoming than the exterior suggests.”

He’s right about the interior. Whoever designed this place understood that luxury and security aren’t mutually exclusive.

The great room features massive windows that offer spectacular mountain views, comfortable furniture arranged for conversation rather than defense, and a fireplace large enough to roast a deer.

“Not bad for a prison,” I admit as I examine the artwork on the walls. “Though I notice the windows don’t appear to open.”

“Security feature. The building maintains positive pressure with filtered ventilation.” Andrei removes his jacket and drapes it over a chair. “Temperature control, air purification, and protection against chemical attacks.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“I’ve learned to anticipate problems before they become crises.” He approaches from behind and places his hands on my shoulders. “Which is why we’re here instead of a tropical resort where extraction teams could operate effectively.”

“Extraction teams like the ones Max is supposedly organizing?”

He presses his lips to my pulse point on my neck, and I curse my knees as they start to buckle. “I’m protecting you from becoming collateral damage in a conflict that extends beyond our personal relationship, Piccola. Your safety requires neutralizing threats before they fully develop.”

“My safety requires getting away from you before I lose myself in this twisted relationship.” The words come out more breathless thanks to the way his touch affects my ability to think.

“You’re not losing yourself, Maya. You’re discovering who you are.

” His lips brush against the shell of my ear as he speaks.

“The woman who killed three men to protect Vincent. The woman who gathered intelligence while maintaining perfect cover. The woman who makes me want things I thought died with Elena.”

“Don’t.” I turn in his arms, bringing us face to face. “Don’t compare me to her.”

“I’m not comparing you to anyone. I’m telling you that you’ve awakened something in me that I thought was permanently buried.

” His hands frame my face, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

“Elena was gentle, sweet, and everything a good wife should be. You’re dangerous, unpredictable, and absolutely magnificent. ”

“I’m your prisoner,” I remind him through gritted teeth.

“You’re my partner, whether you admit it or not. The mountain will give us time to explore what that partnership could become.”

“And if I refuse to explore anything?”

“Then you’ll spend our honeymoon fighting feelings that are only getting stronger.” He traces my lower lip with his thumb, and I resist the urge to suck it into my mouth. “But I think you’re curious about what might happen if you stopped fighting long enough to see what we could build together.”

My headache suddenly spikes to excruciating levels, and I gasp as the room spins around me. Andrei’s face blurs and doubles, and I grip his arms to keep from falling.

“Maya?” His voice sounds distant. “What’s wrong?”

“Headache. Dizzy.” I close my eyes and breathe through the nausea. “Just need to sit down.”

“When did this start?”

“This morning. It’s been getting worse all day.” He guides me to the sofa, and I collapse against the cushions with relief. “Probably stress from everything that’s going on.”

“Or something else.” Andrei disappears and returns with a glass of water and prescription medication. “Take these. They’ll help with the pain.”

“What are they?”

“Muscle relaxants. Nothing dangerous.” He sits beside me and watches as I swallow the pills. “Better?”

I lean back against the cushions and close my eyes. “We’ll see. This place is really in the middle of nowhere?”

“Completely isolated. We’re entirely alone except for security personnel.”

“Perfect.” I open my eyes and look at him. “So, if I die from whatever’s causing these headaches, you’ll be the only witness.”

“You’re not dying from headaches, Maya. You’re experiencing stress reactions that will improve with time and relaxation, both of which you will have plenty of while we’re here.” He stands and extends his hand. “Let me show you to our room. Rest will help more than medication.”

“Our room?”

“Did you think I’d let you sleep alone on our honeymoon?” His smile carries heat that makes my stomach flutter. “We’re married now, Piccola. Time to start acting like it.”