Page 77 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

“Under duress. But yes.”

The SUV pulls to the curb outside Amelia Healy’s building. Maya waits beneath the awning with two sample bags over one shoulder and a cardboard tube tucked beneath the other. Her dark hair is twisted into a clip that looks seconds from surrender.

She spots the vehicle.

Then me.

Then Mikhail.

Her expression flattens.

“Oh good,” I murmur. “She’s pleased.”

“She hasn’t met me yet.”

“Exactly.”

The driver opens the door. Mikhail steps out first, turns, and offers me his hand with exaggerated formality. I ignore it and climb out on my own.

“You’re as tense as my brother,” he mutters. “I know just the thing. Just saying.”

I straighten my coat and give him a warning look. He lifts one shoulder. “I’m only trying to solve two problems at once.”

Maya reaches us before he can say more.

“Maya, this is Mikhail Sokolov. Aleksander’s brother. He’ll be acting as project manager on this job.”

She takes in the dark glasses, the expensive coat, the complete absence of anything resembling construction footwear.

She understands. “Of course.”

Mikhail offers her the smile that probably gets him forgiven for most things. “I’ve heard so much about you, Maya.”

Instead of shaking his outstretched hand, she presses the cardboard tube into it. He takes it, eyebrows lifting. Then she transfers both sample bags into his other hand.

“You’re operations,” she says flatly. “Operate.”

Mikhail has no answer, which may be the first miracle of the day. Then his mouth curves. “I can already tell this job comes with no respect.”

Maya turns toward the entrance without responding.

I almost laugh.

When we step through the revolving doors, Mikhail changes. It happens so quietly I might have missed it if I had not grown up around men who could become dangerous without raising their voices.

The sunglasses disappear into his coat. His posture settles. The playful looseness remains, but moves beneath the surface, replaced by alert stillness.

He greets the doorman by name after reading the brass tag once. Asks the building manager whether the service elevator is running normally. Confirms which crew arrived that morning, whether the plaster contractor changed personnel, and when the stone samples were delivered.

Every question sounds ordinary. Every answer gives him something else.

Who is upstairs? Which entrances are active? What has changed since the schedule Yuri gave him?

He glances once toward the camera above the lobby desk. Once toward the west corridor leading to the service stairs. Never long enough for anyone else to notice.

“Very thorough,” Maya murmurs.

I shake my head and keep walking.