Page 24 of Bound in Possession

I start counting.

I track the security cameras sweeping across the perimeter, noting the precise three-second delay in their panning rotation. I memorize the positions of the guard rotations—six men near the main gates, two patrolling the western wall every five minutes.

I observe the glowing keypads on the coded doors leading back into the mansion, trying to catch the sequence of the buttons. I scan the high stone walls, looking for the specific blind spots where the oak trees cast thick shadows.

I want to be safe. If Viktor's men come back, or if I ever need to run, I refuse to be a helpless damsel waiting for a monster to save me. I need to know my way out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MAKSIM

I walk out of the foyer, the cold night air hitting my face as the tight coil of anger in my chest relaxes just a fraction. When Dmitri stopped me earlier with the intel that Viktor might actually show his face at the gala tonight, I almost exploded.

I want to find Viktor. I want to rip his operations apart root and stem and end this war once and for all. But not when Camilla is there. I don't want that bastard anywhere near my future wife.

When I reach the center of the driveway, my eyes instantly scan the area, but Camilla isn’t waiting by the car. A sharp spike of adrenaline hits me.

"Where is she?" I bark at the nearest driver.

The man straightens immediately, pointing a cautious hand toward the eastern edge of the property. "She took a short walk that way, Pakhan. We kept eyes on her."

I head in that direction, my shoes crunching quietly against the gravel. As I round the corner of the stone walkway, I spot her. She thinks she's being subtle, pretending to admire the manicured hedges, but I know what a target looks like when they're calculating their odds.

I stop in the shadows and watch her. Her eyes subtly track the sweep of a security camera. She pauses, noting the timing, before her gaze shifts to the guard standing near the side entrance, mapping out the routes and blind spots of my estate.

A dark sense of respect blooms in my chest. She isn't behaving like a helpless, terrified captive waiting to be broken. She’s assessing her cage, looking for weaknesses, preparing herself for whatever comes next. She has the survival instincts of a predator's mate.

Of course, I have no intention of telling her this.

"The scenery isn't going to change, princess," I say, stepping out of the darkness.

She stiffens for a fraction of a second before quickly smoothing her features into a mask of polite boredom. I step up beside her, offering my arm once more, my voice dropping into a firm, unyielding command. "We're leaving. Time to show the world who you belong to."

She prickles at my words, a sharp flash of irritation crossing her face, but to her credit, she keeps her mouth shut. I lead her back to the waiting convoy, sliding into the leather interior of the armored vehicle beside her as the doors click shut, locking us into a heavy, charged silence for the drive into the city.

The car ride to the gala is thick with a heavy, charged silence. I sit beside Camilla in the back of the armored SUV, watching the city lights streak across her face as she stares out the window. She looks completely composed, but I can feel the rigid tension radiating off her.

Suddenly, she breaks the silence, her voice clear and entirely unbothered by the quiet. "I am going to meet my sisters tomorrow."

I shift in my seat, turning my head to look at her profile. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get a single syllable out, she snaps her head toward me, her eyes flashing with defiance.

"I'm not asking for your permission, Maksim," she says flatly, cutting me off before I can even start. "And I'm certainly not asking for your opinion. I am seeing them."

A low, genuine laugh rumbles in my chest. The sheer audacity of this girl never fails to amuse me. Most people wouldn't dare breathe an unauthorized word in my presence, yet here she is, drawing lines in the sand.

"I wasn't going to stop you from hanging out with your sisters, princess," I say, leaning back against the leather seat and crossing my legs. My amusement fades slightly, replaced by the grim reality of our situation. "But you are well aware of the threat Viktor poses right now. He’s hunting. So, I will only ask that you have this dinner in one of my restaurants."

She narrows her eyes at me, but I keep my expression firm.

"At least that way, I can control the environment and assure your safety," I add, my tone leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. "You'll have my men inside, and the perimeter will be locked down. You get your sisters, I get the peace of mind that you won't be snatched off the street. Deal?"

Camilla lets out a loud snort, rolling her eyes as she turns her head back toward the window. She doesn't argue, though. She knows I'm right about the danger, even if it kills her to admit that my compromise is entirely reasonable.

When we finally arrive at the grand venue hosting the gala, the atmosphere is buzzing with high society elites, heavy security, and flashbulbs. I lead Camilla toward the private entrance, where a line of broad-shouldered security detail stands guard.

As we approach, the lead guard steps forward, a handheld metal detector in one hand. "Protocol, sir. Everyone needs to be patted down and checked at the door."

My jaw tightens instantly. I step in front of Camilla, shielding her from his line of sight, my aura turning ice-cold. "You don't touch her," I say, my voice a flat, lethal promise. "No one touches my woman."