Page 39 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

The thought terrifies me immediately because none of it changes the actual plan.

Find Mark.

Get him back.

Leave.

Three steps. I’ve been counting them since the cathedral.

But somewhere between the study, the kitchen, and the dishwasher humming in the dark, the plan has started to feel like something I may have to force myself to follow.

I pick up a fabric sample from the desk. Put it down again. Remind myself what this is.

Aleksander checks his watch.

“I have meetings most of the day,” he says. “Nikolai’s team should finish the remaining clearances by tomorrow afternoon.”

“So I’m being professionally reintroduced into society.”

“Essentially.”

“You make it sound like I’m a high-risk museum artifact.”

He glances toward the material boards spread across the desk.

“With your clients?” he says calmly. “Close enough.”

And annoyingly, I smile. Just barely. Just once.

12

I BROKE THE WRONG THING. (TAMARA)

Ihate every chair in the penthouse. Perfect lines. Perfect materials. Perfect placement. Everything curated with the kind of ruthless precision that says “nobody relaxes here.”

I’m standing in the kitchen, staring at a bowl of fruit, when the elevator opens.

Mikhail walks in wearing a camel coat over a black turtleneck and sunglasses despite the fact it’s nearly dark outside.

“You look like someone trapped in a very expensive Scandinavian prison,” he announces.

I glance at him. “You look like you owe three casinos money.”

“I do.” He drops his gloves onto the counter. “But only emotionally.”

Despite myself, a laugh escapes.

Mikhail points at me. “There she is. Human emotion. Aleks said you’ve been haunting the study like a Victorian ghost.”

“I lost a client.”

“Ouch.”

“She said she wanted to ‘reassess project timing.’”

“Translation?”

“She thinks marrying into the bratva is problematic.”