Page 16 of Bound in Possession

"Where I come from, it is considered rude not to offer a guest a meal," I reply smoothly, pulling out a chair for Camilla. "You can eat while we talk."

He lets out a rough grunt but reluctantly takes his seat across from me. Camilla sits on the chair I offer, and I take the seat beside her to her left.

Within moments, the kitchen staff moves in, and a multi-course lunch is served. The clinking of silverware against porcelain does nothing to break the suffocating tension in the room. Almost immediately, Massimo begins to speak, his tone entirely conversational as if we are discussing the weather and not his own flesh and blood.

"To be quite frank, I thought Viktor would win Camilla at the auction," Massimo says, cutting into his food with clinical precision. "He’s wanted part of the Caruso bloodline for a long time and would have done anything to get it."

Beside me, I feel Camilla instantly stiffen. Her entire body goes rigid, the breath hitching in her throat. For a split second, a dangerous impulse strikes me, and I almost reach out under the table to take her hand, to offer some twisted form of comfort. But I catch myself at the last possible moment, gripping my own glass instead. I don't do comfort.

I look up, my eyes locking onto Massimo, my expression an unreadable mask. "You don’t seem particularly mad about how it turned out."

Massimo scoffs, waving a dismissive hand as he chews. "Why should I be? My daughter went to the highest bidder. It is business, pure and simple. It is no one's fault but his own that Viktor couldn't match your price. The asset went to the stronger man."

This absolute bastard doesn’t even have the decency to look at Camilla as the words leave his mouth. He hasn’t glanced at her once since he walked through my doors.

Logically, it should not be my business. It shouldn't matter to me if he treats her like a piece of livestock. I only bought her as a tactical play, a beautiful piece of leverage to dismantle Viktor. But somehow, in just forty-eight hours, this woman has completely burrowed under my skin. For some reason I can't even fathom, I am entirely in tune with her emotions right now.

Although she sits completely silent beside me, her eyes fixed blindly on her untouched plate, she is fucking furious. I can feel the heat of her rage, the deep, agonizing sting of the humiliation vibrating off her. And seeing her forced to swallow that cruelty from the man who was supposed to protect her makes me angrier than I care to admit.

“I will marry your daughter,” I say, not wanting to beat around the bush any longer.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Camilla’s hand tighten violently around the stem of her glass. Her knuckles turn white, and she raises it to her lips, gulping down the red wine in one fluid, desperate motion. She is mine now, and the sooner she deals with that reality, the better off we will both be.

I am not letting her go.

Massimo nods slowly, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. "Let’s discuss the terms, then."

"What are your terms?" I ask, leaning back in my chair. "Because I am certain you have already been given your own massive share of the twenty million, I paid to acquire her."

Massimo waves his hand dismissively, scoffing at the mention of the auction money. "A marriage to Camilla involves being legally and blood-bound to the Caruso family. I have specific terms before I will allow that to happen, especially considering you are the Pakhan of the Sokolov Bratva."

The second the title leaves his mouth, I feel Camilla’s gaze snap directly to the side of my face. It hits me then—she is just finding out who I really am. She knew I was involved in the Russian Bratva, but she didn't know I ran the entire damn syndicate. I can feel her intense shock and disbelief boring into me, but I keep my eyes trained forward.

"What do you want, Massimo?"

Massimo leans forward, his expression turning sharp and greedy. "I want full, undisputed control over the Swiss and offshore banking routes connected to the East Coast weapons financing. That is my price for giving this union my official blessing."

A dark, humorless chuckle rumbles in my throat. I look at the older man, shaking my head at his sheer audacity.

"You are a step too late, Massimo," I say smoothly, watching the confidence drain from his face. "I already seized full control of those exact banking routes years ago. I’m not giving that up.”

Massimo’s jaw tightens, a flash of genuine anger breaking through his calculated demeanor. He doesn't like being outmaneuvered, especially not on his own turf. He takes a slow breath, adjusting his cuffs as he pivots, searching for a new angle to salvage his leverage.

"Fine," Massimo grates out, leaning forward onto the table. "If the banking routes are off the table, then I want the port distribution rights for the entire upper Atlantic. Full control of the docks from New York up to Boston. My family moves our contraband without your oversight, and we take a forty percent cut of whatever your Bratva brings in through those waters."

It is a massive demand, one that would give the Carusos a chokehold on my northern supply lines. I could easily grant it. The Sokolov Bratva is wealthy enough, and my reach is vast enough, that losing a fraction of the upper Atlantic wouldn't break my empire.

But I refuse.

Not because I can’t afford to give it to him, but because I need this old bastard to understand exactly who holds the leash in this room. I want Massimo to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that in this transaction, I am on top. I make the rules. He is a salesman who already cashed his check; he doesn't get to dictate how I run my house.

"No," I say flatly, cutting him off before he can expand on his pitch.

Massimo's eyes narrow into dangerous slits. "No? You want my blessing for a blood alliance, Pakhan, but you offer nothing?"

"You're mistaken," I reply. "I am offering you a lifeline. Here is what is going to happen: you will get a fifteen percent cut of the Manhattan port alone. No Boston. No independent oversight. My men will guard the shipments, and your family will receive their payout like clockwork. It is a lesser piece than what you asked for, but it is still a very rich deal—more than enough to keep your captains loyal and your coffers full."

Massimo stares at me, his chest rising and falling with suppressed rage. He realizes he has been completely cornered. He has no hand to play.