Page 89 of Possessive Vows

“Two more,” I vow.

She sucks in a breath and shakes her head, but I growl and encompass her face with my hands.

“The vermin will run underground now that their leader is gone, but they will not escape me. I will not stop until they pay for hurting you, Camilla,” I say with every ounce of sincerity in my soul. Her eyes soften. “You’re mine.Moya zhena.Moya so´lnyshka. I made you a promise and will not break it. Da?” I promise.

She sighs, nods, and wraps her arms around me. Savage delight gleams in her midnight eyes.

“Good. I’ll keep our children safe as you rid the world of nightmares,” she says as she rests her head on my chest.

She sighs again and mumbles, “You won’t go back to Russia until you’ve killed them all, will you?”

I chuckle in response. She is wise beyond her years.

“Fine, then get it over with so we can get the children back to their home,” she says.

“You may not have noticed, butyouare their home now. They adore and trust you and will follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked,” I say.

She shakes her head.

“I don’t want to uproot them more than necessary. I want them to grow in a safe, loving, sturdy home, so finish our revenge quickly.Capisci?”

“We won’t leave without a proper wedding,” I declare.

She lifts her head so quickly she almost clips my chin and blinks wide eyes up at me.

“What? Why? We’re already married,” she says.

“This is forever,so´lnyshka. We may not have done things in the proper order, but I will not let you leave without walking you down the aisle in front of all your friends and family,” I say.

She quirks a brow.

“You just want to claim me in front of everyone, don’t you? I hurt your pride when I dragged you around that jewelry store and now you want to—”

I take her mouth in a kiss so passionate we both heave when I lift my head.

“You’re wrong, Camilla. You did not hurt my pride. I was so turned on I could barely breathe,” I whisper against her lips.

She shivers.

“Everyone will know who you belong to,” I snarl before diving back into her mouth.

She pulls away and tucks her face against my chest as she struggles to gather her thoughts.

“I want that. Walk me down the aisle. Make sure the venue is as extravagant as this ridiculous ring,” she demands against my sternum.

I chuckle and kiss the top of her head, eager to fulfill her every wish.

For a few moments, we stand wrapped up in each other, marveling over how well our bodies fit together, then separate and dive back into the chaos of our children.

Later that evening, I receive a call from Yerik. He confirms the body count—which consists solely of Feliks’s men—and agrees to send the location where he has several prisoners ready for questioning. I give him orders to collect all dashcam footage and phone recordings for snippets of the dead men’s voices. He agrees without question.

I dress in a suit, kiss my wife, and fumble through goodbyes with my children before leaving the townhouse. It proves the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do, but I hop in the new car I bought this afternoon and drive away from my family.

I slip into my emotionless assassin persona and include a few detours in my drive to the location Yerik shared with me, ensuring I have no one following me.

The basement my second-in-command prepared for interrogations is absolutely perfect for the mind games I intend to play with my exiled brother’s best men. A massive hole sits in the foundation’s corner with a few inches of putrid water at the bottom. Metal hooks hang from the exposed beams in the ceiling. Racks line the walls. An industrial washer and dryer—each big enough to fit two men inside—sit at the bottom of the stairs. A table full of rusty tools takes up the space underneath the only window.

Sitting with their ankles and knees bound in front of them and their wrists and elbows connected to the pipes on the wall, nine men await my cruelties. Makeshift gags and blindfolds cover their faces.

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