Page 11 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

Beside me, Aleksander adjusts his stride automatically to mine as we walk.

My father watches from the front pew, satisfaction written plainly across his face. He got exactly what he wanted today.

Power. Alliance. Control.

And I got a platinum ring I never asked for and a husband who called me trouble before he knew my name.

He has no idea how right he is.

4

I FOLLOWED HER ANYWAY. (ALEKSANDER)

“Congratulations on your marriage, Aleksander.”

I shake Yakov Gagarin’s hand, brief and firm. Around us, The Velvet Echo hums—low music, crystal, expensive liquor, expensive violence. Mila stands beside him in dark silk, one hand resting lightly against his arm.

“Thank you,” I say.

Yakov’s gaze flicks toward Tamara. “You survived the ceremony. That’s the hardest part.”

“Comforting,” Tamara says dryly.

“I’m serious,” Yakov says. “The reception is easier. Everyone’s drunk by midnight.”

“Excellent,” Tamara replies. “Something to aspire to.”

Mila laughs softly, then turns toward her. “If you need anything, call me. Katarina too.”

They move off into the crowd on that note. Men in tailored suits keep track of every entrance, every glass, every hand that disappears inside a jacket. Women in diamonds drift past on stilettos, their hair swept into immaculate, expensive arrangements.

Tamara doesn’t look impressed. Her attention goes to the doors, the guards, the men with jackets cut to conceal weapons.

“You’re cataloging the room,” I say.

“I’m trying to determine which guests are armed.”

“Most.”

“Including the priest?” she asks.

“Especially the priest.”

She almost smiles. Fights it. Loses.

I should not enjoy the victory as much as I do.

A waiter passes with champagne. Conversations continue around us, but differently now. People glance at her, assessing and curious.

One older man approaches, greeting me first.

“Aleksander.” Respectful nod. “Beautiful ceremony.” Only then does he look at Tamara. “Kalinin’s girl.”

Tamara doesn’t react aside from correcting her posture, which tells me plenty.

“Tamara,” I say evenly.

The man blinks once. “Of course.”