Page 55 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

I loosen my tie slowly as I move toward the study. Tamara is asleep at the desk, one cheek pressed against folded arms beside fabric samples and restoration estimates. Her laptop still glows beneath scattered floor plans. She must have fallen asleep working.

She looks unguarded in a way she never is awake. I stand there looking at the woman slowly making this apartment livable while having no idea her entire life was built on a lie someone else constructed for her.

She’ll find out. Maybe through her own investigation, maybe through someone talking, maybe through something I can’t predict or control. When she does, everything I just signed off on in that room—the clearances, the drivers, the access—becomes the infrastructure of her exit.

I made the decision knowing that. It doesn’t become easier because it’s right.

David Kalinin never needed to control Tamara constantly. He only needed to know he could ruin her life whenever it became useful.

I’m choosing differently.

Even if she uses that choice to leave.

17

THE EGGS ARE TERRIBLE. (TAMARA)

My father lets the phone ring exactly four times before answering.

“Tamara.”

He’s not surprised to hear from me. He knew I would call to collect. So I don’t bother with small talk.

“You said I’d see Mark.”

The line stays open long enough for him to enjoy making me wait. Then, “And good morning to you too.”

Anger flashes hot enough to tighten my grip around the phone.

“You promised me.”

“I promised you’d see him. I didn’t say when.”

“That’s not⁠—”

A faint exhale. Not irritation. Worse, patience.

“He’s safe, Tamara.”

The phone feels too small for what I want from him. “That’s not enough.” My voice sharpens. “I want my son back.”

“It will have to be enough for now.”

“Where is he? What grade is he in?” The questions come out too fast. “Second? What school does he go to? Does he know about me?”

“Tamara—”

“No.” The word cuts sharply through the line. “You don’t get to do this to me. You stole my son from me. You forced me into a marriage in exchange for him. Now tell me where he is.”

He lets that sit. Just when I think he hung up, he says calmly, “You seeing the child depends on stability. The alliance is still settling. The Colombians are watching.”

“I don’t care about the Colombians.”

“You should.”

“I care about Mark.”

A pause.