Page 30 of Bound Vows (Empire City Syndicate #3)

Andrei

Turning my penthouse into a fortress while my wife recovers from a gunshot wound proves that romance in the criminal underworld requires more tactical planning than traditional courtship.

“Final perimeter check complete,” Alexei reports as he enters my study, where I’m reviewing security protocols with Vincent and Max. “Sixty-seven armed personnel positioned throughout the building and surrounding blocks, with overlapping fields of fire and multiple contingency plans.”

“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 not because you’re trapped by circumstances, but because you want to create something beautiful together. ”

I capture her hands before she can finish undressing me. “Maya, you’re still recovering from a gunshot wound. Dr. Morrison said?—”

“Dr. Morrison said no strenuous activity. He didn’t say anything about gentle, careful, thoroughly satisfying activity that involves my husband demonstrating his devotion while I demonstrate mine.

” She pulls her hands free and continues.

“Besides, emotional healing is just as important as physical healing, and I need to know that what we have transcends the violence that created it.”

“You want me to make love to you while armed guards patrol outside our bedroom door and a homicidal stalker plans our demise?”

“I want you to make love to me because we choose each other despite armed guards and homicidal stalkers and every other obstacle the world throws at us.” Maya pushes my shirt off my shoulders and runs her palms across my chest. “I want to honor Elena’s memory by helping you heal from Katarina’s betrayal and build something positive from all this tragedy. ”

The mention of Elena should make me hesitate, should remind me of guilt and promises and the cost of loving women who could be destroyed because of who I am. Instead, Maya’s touch dissolves every rational objection I might have raised.

“Are you certain? Your shoulder?—”

“My shoulder will be fine as long as you’re careful with me. Which you always are.” She reaches for the hem of her sweater and begins lifting it over her head, moving slowly to accommodate her injury.

I assist her with removing the sweater to avoid aggravating her injuries. When she’s naked except for the bandage covering her gunshot wound, I take in the olive skin and perfect curves that no amount of medical tape can diminish.

“Beautiful.” I drag my palms across her skin with reverent fingers, avoiding every tender spot while worshipping every inch I can safely touch. “Even wounded and bandaged, you’re the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Less talking, more demonstrating your devotion.” Maya reaches for my belt buckle. “Even if I do appreciate being called magnificent.”

I watch her face as she works to free me from my clothes. “I want you,” she whispers, and the admission carries weight beyond desire. “Not because I’m trapped here, not because I have no choice, but because I choose you. I choose this.”

“Maya—” I begin, but she silences me by pulling me down for a kiss that starts gentle but becomes something hungrier as she opens her mouth and uses her tongue to claim me as thoroughly as I’ve claimed her countless times before.

When we break apart, we’re panting, and her eyes blaze with heat that makes my cock throb against her thigh.

I settle between her thighs and slide one finger through her slick folds, finding her already wet and ready for me. Maya gasps and arches beneath my touch, gripping my shoulder with her good hand.

“So wet for me already.” I circle her clit with gentle pressure. “Your body knows what it wants, even when your mind fights it.”

“My mind isn’t fighting anymore,” Maya pants as I slide two fingers inside her, stretching her while my thumb works her clit.

I work her with skilled fingers until she’s trembling and desperate as her hips rock against my hand while soft moans spill from her lips. When I withdraw my fingers and position my cock at her entrance, she looks up at me with eyes that hold a softness I’ve never seen.

“I love you,” Maya whispers as I push inside her.

The words hit me like lightning, making me pause.

“I love you, Andrei. Not the man who kidnapped me, not the dangerous criminal who forced me into marriage, but you. The man who dove into a freezing river to save me. The man who wants to build something beautiful from all this darkness.”

“Maya,” I breathe her name like a prayer as I fill her, and her tight heat surrounds me. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she repeats, stronger this time.

“I love you too,” I tell her as I begin moving within her, each thrust deeper than the last.

I set a rhythm that’s gentle and thorough, mindful of her healing body while still giving us what we need.

Maya meets each movement with soft gasps and the kind of responses that speak of genuine desire rather than obligation.

For the first time, there isn’t a hint of regret on her face when she melts into my touch. Just pure, unbridled want.

“After this is over,” I murmur against her throat as I maintain steady movements that make her breathing hitch, “I want to take you somewhere peaceful. Somewhere we can focus on each other instead of survival.”

“Where?” Maya’s voice comes out breathless as I angle my hips to hit the spot that makes her eyes roll back.

“Tuscany. The Greek islands. Anywhere you want to go.” I adjust to drive deeper as her inner muscles clench around me. “We’ll plan our future together.”

Maya’s response dissolves into incoherent moans as her body trembles with approaching release. I feel her tightening around me, and her movements grow more erratic as she climbs toward the edge.

“Look at me,” I command as I reach between us to find her clit. “I want to see your face when you come apart for me.”

Maya’s eyes lock with mine as I rub tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves while keeping up with the rhythm that drives us toward madness. Her pupils blow wide, and her mouth falls open in a silent scream as the pleasure builds to breaking point.

“Andrei,” she gasps as my name is torn from her throat mid-orgasm. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The sight and sensation of Maya shattering underneath and around me, combined with her repeated declarations of love, trigger my release. I bury myself deep inside her as I come with a groan, and her name spills from my lips like a benediction.

We remain locked together for several long minutes while aftershocks pulse through our joined bodies. We breathe hard as we recover from what just passed between us. When I withdraw and settle beside her, Maya curls against my chest with contentment.

“Thank you,” she whispers against my skin.

“For what?”

“For showing me that our future is worth fighting for. For proving that what we have together is stronger than what brought us together.” She lifts her head to meet my eyes, and I see love there alongside the lingering heat. “For giving me something worth choosing.”

“Thank you for choosing me. For saying the words I never thought I’d hear again.” I stroke her dark hair, marveling at how it catches the lamplight. “For making me believe that redemption is possible and that some kinds of love are worth any risk.”

“I meant every word,” Maya declares. “I love you, Andrei Volkov. Not because I have to, not because I’m trapped, but because you’re worth loving.”

Before I can respond to this declaration that changes everything between us, electronic alarms begin shrieking throughout the penthouse loudly enough to wake the dead. Red warning lights flash in the hallway outside our bedroom, and I hear shouts as security teams mobilize throughout the building.

“She’s here,” Maya says unnecessarily as we both reach for our discarded clothes.

“Right on schedule.” I pull on my pants. “Though I had hoped for at least one peaceful night before the final confrontation.”

The alarms continue to wail as we dress quickly, and I make out the distinctive sound of multiple weapons being readied throughout the penthouse. Whatever Katarina has planned for her final assault, she’s about to discover that Maya Volkov is no longer a victim waiting to be rescued.

She’s a wife with two crime families behind her, and that makes all the difference in the world.