Page 23 of Bound Vows
My blood turns to ice water. He knows about the phone, which means his surveillance is more comprehensive than I realized. Either he’s been monitoring my movements through hiddencameras, or he has some sort of tracking on all communications in and around the house.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” Andrei extends his hand toward me, palm up in a gesture that’s both polite and unmistakably threatening. “Then perhaps you’d like to return the device Father Bianchi provided during his visit.”
I consider denying knowledge of the phone, but the knowing look in his eyes tells me that would be pointless. Reluctantly, I reach into the pocket of my robe and place the burner phone in his waiting palm.
“Thank you.” He examines the device with faux curiosity before he slips it into his pocket. “You’ve been busy tonight, Piccola. Coordinating with your brother, gathering intelligence about my operations, and probably planning some heroic escape attempt in that little head of yours.” Andrei’s accent thickens with each word, and his voice transforms into something that carries the cold brutality of his homeland. “Did you really believe I wouldn’t notice?”
“I was talking to a priest about spiritual matters.”
“You were talking to a priest about my business ventures and your family’s response to our engagement.” Andrei takes another step closer, backing me against the bathroom wall. “I’m disappointed, Maya. I thought we had established a foundation of mutual respect.”
“Mutual respect doesn’t include keeping me prisoner.”
“And it doesn’t include betraying confidences to outside parties.” Andrei places one hand against the wall beside my headand leans in close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with something darker and more dangerous. “Father Bianchi has been remarkably helpful in providing information about your family’s activities. It would be unfortunate if his usefulness came to an end.”
The threat against Father Bianchi sends panic shooting through my veins. The elderly priest has been nothing but kind throughout this nightmare, and now his safety depends on my cooperation with a madman.
“Leave him out of this. He’s just trying to help.”
“He’s interfering with my operations, which makes him a liability.” Andrei’s free hand moves to trace the line of my jaw with deceptive gentleness. “Unless, of course, his interference stops immediately.”
I meet his eyes without flinching, though my instincts scream at me to submit before he makes good on his threats. “What do you want from me?”
“Complete honesty. No more secret communications, no more intelligence gathering, and no more attempts to coordinate with outside parties.” His thumb brushes across my lower lip with possessive familiarity. “You belong to me now, Maya. That means your loyalty belongs to me as well.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then Father Bianchi experiences the same kitchen accident that befell Mr. Torrino’s restaurant. Followed by your brother Max, then Vincent, then anyone else who interferes with our arrangement.”
The casual way he delivers these threats makes my stomach clench with terror and rage. Andrei speaks about murder like other people discuss the weather, and his matter-of-fact tone makes it clear he’s not bluffing about implementing consequences.
“You’re a monster.”
“I’m a man who protects what belongs to him.” Andrei removes his hand from the wall and steps back, his gaze never leaving my face. “Your privileges in this penthouse were contingent on your cooperation. Since you’ve demonstrated that cooperation cannot be trusted, you have forfeited those privileges.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll be confined to your bedroom except for meals and supervised exercise. It means electronic surveillance in every room you occupy. It means that any further attempts to contact the outside world will result in immediate and permanent consequences for the people you’re trying to reach.”
I push away from the wall and straighten my shoulders, calling on every lesson my mother had taught me about maintaining dignity under pressure. “You think locking me up will break me?”
“I think isolation will give you time to consider the benefits of genuine cooperation versus the costs of continued defiance.” Andrei opens the bathroom door and gestures for me to precede him into the hallway. “Your wedding dress arrives tomorrow, Maya. I suggest you use tonight to decide whether you’ll wear it willingly or whether I’ll need to make additional examples of people you care about.”
Two of his men wait in the hallway, armed and alert. They escort me back to the guest bedroom with professional courtesy that doesn’t disguise the fact that I’m now under armed guard.
“Sweet dreams, Piccola,” Andrei calls as the bedroom door closes behind me with an electronic lock that sounds like a death knell.
I settle onto the silk sheets and stare at the ceiling while my mind churns through everything Father Bianchi revealed during our brief conversation. Max is mobilizing resources, I’m sure Vincent is coordinating with other families, and Cara’s experience with kidnapping will provide unique insights into my situation.
But none of that matters if Andrei’s political connections can neutralize their efforts before they gain momentum. My family is fighting an enemy who’s spent sixteen years preparing for this war, and they don’t even understand the scope of what they’re facing.
The priest’s words echo in my memory as I contemplate the impossible choice before me. Cooperation might save my immediate family while enabling Andrei’s broader campaign of conquest. Resistance could trigger the very violence I’m trying to prevent while accomplishing nothing except satisfying my pride.
My mother’s voice whispers through my thoughts, carrying the lesson she drilled into me from childhood, the one that sustained our family through decades of violence and betrayal.
A Mastroni girl never shows weakness.
