Page 19 of Bound in Possession

The word ‘belong’ doesn’t sound so bad right now.

His touch sends a sudden, white-hot shiver straight down my spine. The sheer terror of the car chase evaporates, replaced instantly by a thick, suffocating wave of sexual tension that fills the small space between us.

Our breaths mingle in the dark interior of the car, his thumb smoothing over my skin with a possessive heat that leaves me entirely breathless, turning my fear into something far more dangerous.

I remember the kiss we shared in the bathroom yesterday. I’ve been aggressively pushing it out of my mind since it happened, trying to convince myself it was just a lapse in judgment, but now the memory is front and center. With his body heavy above mine and his lips only a breath away from my own, the denial completely shatters.

The heat between us is unquestionable, and it terrifies me just as much as the tail we just lost.

When I realize how weak I’m getting, how easily I am starting to bend to his touch, a sudden jolt of panic snaps me out of the spell. I clear my throat roughly and pull away, pushing against his solid chest to create space between us.

"Where are we?" I ask, my voice sounding a little breathier than I intend.

Maksim straightens up, letting his hand slide slowly from my face, though his dark eyes never leave mine. "We're in a garage."

We wait a few minutes and then leave. When we get to the wedding planner’s the car stops again.

"Let’s get this over with," I say coldly.

Determined to regain my composure, I don't wait for him to open the door for me. I push the door open myself and step out smoothing down my dress as my heels click against the floor.

Gosh. What is it about Maksim that turns me into a wanton mess?

CHAPTER NINE

MAKSIM

"I’m not mad, Dmitri, I’m fucking enraged," I growl, pacing the length of my study while Dmitri watches me from across the desk. "They were waiting for us. That wasn't a random patrol."

Dmitri steps up to the desk, his expression hard as stone. "I had our men check the traffic cams through our secure feed. The SUV was registered to a shell corporation in Queens—one of Viktor’s old laundering fronts. They were definitely his men. They didn't strike because they realized our transport was fully armored, but they were scanning for a weak point."

"Viktor is getting desperate," I say, stopping by the window and staring out over the dark grounds of the estate. A dangerous heat fires through my veins. "He lost the auction, he lost the Caruso alliance, and now he’s realizing the East Coast is slipping through his fingers. He’s trying to test my response time."

"The security plan for the gala tonight needs an immediate overhaul," Dmitri advises, pulling up the venue schematics on his tablet. "If Viktor is willing to shadow your car in broad daylight, he won't hesitate to make a scene at a high-society event."

"Double the perimeter guards," I command, turning back to him with absolute finality. "Put our best marksmen on the rooftops surrounding the venue. I want extra clearance on every single caterer, waiter, and guest entering that ballroom. If anyone looks at Camilla the wrong way, erase them."

"Understood. I will make sure she’s safe,” he says. “You don’t have to worry.”

I wish I didn’t have to worry.

But for some reason, when it comes to this woman, I’m a ball of nerves. I hate it. This isn’t me. I am the Pakhan of the Bratva; I don't get nervous, and I certainly don't let anyone affect my peace of mind.

I try to tell myself it’s strictly because she’s an investment. Twenty million dollars is a fucking huge sum, even for me, but a dark, persistent voice in the back of my head tells me it runs a little deeper than that.

Seeing her red eyes when we left the house and the raw fear in them this afternoon after the chase... it made my blood boil. All I wanted to do was hold her close and promise her that she will forever be safe under my watch.

"We're changing the timeline," I say, the decision hardening in my chest. "Two weeks is too long. Waiting gives Viktor too much time to strike again, to find a vulnerability, or to coordinate a hit. The wedding happens in three days."

Dmitri's eyebrows shoot up, a rare look of surprise crossing his disciplined features. "Three days? That is an incredibly tight turnaround for an alliance of this scale."

"Make it happen," I command flatly. "And call Massimo. Pass the message along to him. Let him know."

Dmitri hesitates for a fraction of a second, shifting his weight. "And Camilla? How will she take it?"

I turn toward the window, staring out into the sprawling courtyard as the evening shadows begin to stretch across the lawn. She’ll go crazy if I tell her. I already know. She absolutely hates not being able to make a single decision for herself, and lately, she’s been continuously cheated out of any semblance of control over her own life

First her father, then the auction, then me. But this isn't my fault. This is about keeping her alive.