Page 27 of Bound Vows (Empire City Syndicate #3)

Maya

Waking up alone in our bed at the mountain safe house while the morning sun streams through bulletproof windows should feel peaceful, but Andrei’s side of the mattress is cold, and there’s no sound of movement in the compound.

“Andrei?” I call out as I pull on my robe, favoring my still-tender ankle as I pad toward the bathroom. “Please tell me you’re just having an early morning crisis of conscience.”

Silence greets me from every corner of the safe house, and my stomach knots as I realize something has gone catastrophically wrong. The guards who should be patrolling the hallways are nowhere to be seen, and the usual morning sounds of a functioning security operation are absent.

I limp through the house as quickly as my injured ankle allows, checking each room for signs of Andrei or whoever managed to create this unnatural quiet. The kitchen is empty, his office is vacant, and the security station shows no signs of recent activity.

That’s when I find them—three guards slumped over their monitors in the security room with darts protruding from their necks.

“Well, this is fantastic,” I grumble as I check their pulses. They’re alive but unconscious. “Someone managed to drug an entire security team without triggering a single alarm.”

A folded piece of paper on the main security console catches my attention, and I recognize the elegant handwriting before I even read the words that make my blood turn to ice.

Maya,

Your husband is enjoying my hospitality at a location where we can have the conversation that’s been overdue for months. You have until 10:00 to come to the warehouse at 47th and Vernon in Queens, alone and unarmed, or I’ll be forced to demonstrate what happens to men who choose the wrong woman.

Don’t involve law enforcement, don’t contact his organization, and don’t imagine that anyone can help you now. This is between us, and it ends tonight.

Don’t be late.

K

I crumple the note and think through my limited options.

Katarina has somehow managed to drug a security team and either overpower or trick Andrei into leaving with her.

Given that Andrei is twice her size and paranoid enough to sleep with weapons within reach, I’m guessing she had help, or used methods that bypassed his defenses.

The smart play would be to contact my brothers, call the police, or find another way to bring backup to the confrontation Katarina has planned.

But the note makes it clear that any deviation from her instructions will result in Andrei’s death, and something tells me she’s desperate enough to follow through on the threat.

I’ve been married to the man for a month, and I’m already facing the choice between saving him and saving myself. The irony would be amusing if it weren’t potentially fatal.

“Stupid, Maya,” I mutter while searching Andrei’s desk for weapons. “Fall in love with a crime boss, win stupid prizes.”

The desk drawer yields a Glock 19 with a full magazine and two backup clips, which should be sufficient for whatever Katarina has planned. I check the action and chamber a round before tucking the gun into the waistband of my jeans, then grab a knife from the kitchen and slip it into my boot.

My ankle throbs with each step as I head to the garage, but adrenaline overrides most of the pain. The keys to Andrei’s BMW hang on the hook beside the door, and I grab them before climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine.

The drive to Queens takes an hour and forty-three minutes through Manhattan traffic designed to test my patience and sanity. Every red signal feels like a countdown to disaster, and every slow-moving vehicle becomes an obstacle between me and whatever hell Katarina has prepared.

The warehouse district looks like every crime movie location scout’s wet dream—abandoned buildings, broken streetlamps, and the kind of industrial decay that screams “bad things happen here.” Number 47 sits at the end of a dead-end street, surrounded by empty lots and the skeletal remains of businesses that died during the last economic collapse.

I park two blocks away and approach on foot, favoring my good ankle while scanning for additional security or surveillance. The building shows no external activity, but that doesn’t mean Katarina is alone or unprepared.

I pause at the front entrance to let my eyes adjust to the darkness inside. Faint illumination from overhead windows reveals a cavernous space filled with abandoned machinery and the kind of shadows that could hide an army.

“Punctual as always,” Katarina’s voice echoes from within the depths of the warehouse. “Though I notice you’re limping. Still recovering from your dramatic escape attempt?”

“Still recovering from underestimating how crazy you are,” I reply while moving deeper into the building with the Glock held ready but not threatening. “Where is he?”

“Andrei is where he needs to be for this conversation. I’m afraid he’s not in the best condition to participate. It turns out that even the most dangerous men become quite manageable when the right chemicals are involved.”

I follow her voice through a maze of industrial equipment and storage containers, and my ankle protests every uneven step. The warehouse feels like a tomb designed for the burial of inconvenient wives, and I wonder if this is how Elena felt in the moments before her death.

“You drugged him.”

“Just a little something in his morning coffee that ensures compliance and cooperation.” Katarina’s voice grows closer, though I still haven’t spotted her in the labyrinth of machinery.

“Andrei took a higher dose than necessary. He was rather uncooperative about leaving his precious wife alone and defenseless.”

“How thoughtful of you to be concerned about my safety.”

“Oh, I’m very concerned about your safety, Maya. Your safety is the reason we’re having this conversation.” She finally steps into view from behind a massive shelving unit, and I note the gun in her hand before registering Andrei’s motionless body chained to a support beam behind her.

He’s alive. I can see his chest rising and falling, but his head is hanging forward, and his chin is resting on his neck. Blood darkens his shirt in several places, and his face shows signs of recent violence that make my trigger finger itch with the desire for retaliation.

“Let him go, Katarina. He doesn’t deserve to pay for whatever issues you have with me.”

“Doesn’t he? He married you knowing it would destroy me. He brought you into my safe house, my sanctuary, and expected me to smile and pretend everything was fine. He chose you over eight years of loyalty, devotion, and love.”

“He chose me over eight years of obsession and manipulation.”

“I understand what he needs to survive in this world, and you’re just a pretty distraction that will get him killed.” Katarina moves closer, keeping the gun trained on Andrei. “Just like Elena.”

“Elena died because of your enemies, not because she was a distraction.”

“Elena died because she was weak and naive and unprepared for the realities of loving a man like Andrei. I suppose you could say she died because I finally got tired of watching her waste his potential.”

Katarina has moved far beyond simple jealousy into something approaching psychological collapse.

“You killed her.”

“I arranged for her removal from an equation that damaged everyone involved. Elena was never going to be strong enough for this life, and her presence made Andrei soft. I did what needed to be done to protect the man I love.”

“You murdered your sister.”

“I eliminated a liability that threatened Andrei’s worth and survival. That she happened to be my sister is irrelevant.” She raises the gun until it’s pointed at my chest. “Just like eliminating you is irrelevant to anything except clearing the path for our future.”

“What future? You think killing me will make Andrei fall in love with you?” I keep my weapon lowered but ready as I calculate distances and angles. “You think he’ll forgive you for murdering two wives?”

“He’ll realize that some women are worth protecting and others are elaborate traps designed to exploit his weaknesses. When you’re dead and he’s alone again, he’ll understand that I’ve been the only person who truly cared about his welfare.”

I sputter my lips and snort. “He will hunt you to the ends of the earth and make your death last for weeks.”

Katarina drops her voice. “If I can’t have him, no one can. It’s as simple as that.”

The break from reality in her tone churns my stomach. This isn’t just about eliminating competition or removing obstacles to her imagined romance. Katarina has decided that destroying us is preferable to seeing us happy, and that level of obsession doesn’t respond to logic or negotiation.

“You’re going to kill him, too.”

“If necessary, yes. I’ll put him out of his misery after he watches what happens to women who steal what belongs to me. He’ll understand, in those final moments, that choosing you was the mistake that destroyed everything he cared about. Quite poetic, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re insane, and I think you’ve underestimated how difficult it will be to kill both of us.

” I move my weight toward my good foot, preparing to dive for cover behind the nearest piece of machinery.

“Andrei won’t be unconscious forever, and I won’t stand here while you monologue about your twisted version of love. ”

“You’re not going anywhere except into the grave I’ve prepared for you.” Katarina raises her weapon with the steady grip of someone who’s made peace with committing murder. “I appreciate the defiance. It will make Andrei’s grief more authentic when he realizes what he’s lost.”

I’m already moving when her finger tightens on the trigger, and I throw myself sideways behind a concrete pillar as the gunshot echoes through the warehouse. The bullet clips my shoulder instead of finding my heart, sending fire through my arm and spinning me around before I hit the ground.

Blood soaks my sweater as I scramble for better cover while my injured shoulder screams in protest, and Katarina’s laughter fills the space.

“Running won’t help you, Maya. This is my territory now, and you’re not leaving until our business is finished.”

I press my back against the pillar and assess the damage to my shoulder while listening for her footsteps. The wound burns like fire, but I can move my arm, which means no major damage. The bleeding needs attention, but it’s not life-threatening.

Squealing tires in the distance make us freeze for different reasons. The cavalry is arriving just in time, and Katarina is realizing her carefully planned execution is becoming significantly more complicated.

The warehouse doors explode inward with enough force to rattle the windows, and familiar voices fill the space as Max, Vincent, and half of our family’s soldiers pour through the entrance.

“Maya!” Max screams out. “Where are you?”

“Here!” I call back while staying behind cover. “Armed and bleeding, but functional.”

“Volkov?”

“Chained and unconscious, but alive!” I peek around the pillar to see Katarina spinning toward the new threat with her gun swinging between Andrei’s position and the advancing men. “Be careful; she’s unhinged! How the hell did you find me?”

“We’ve tracked your movements since the wedding,” Max explains as his men spread out through the warehouse. “When you left the safe house alone and drove straight to an abandoned warehouse in Queens, we figured you weren’t going shopping. The GPS in Volkov’s car led us here.”

The warehouse erupts into chaos as my family’s arrival transforms a private execution into a full-scale battle, and I realize that whatever happens next will determine whether any of us survive Katarina’s final descent into madness.