Page 4 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

I look at my father.

Not Papa. Not the man who once held my hand crossing Fifth Avenue when I was small. Not the man whose approval I spent too many years trying to earn before I understood that love, to him, was only another form of leverage.

David Kalinin.

The man who let me believe my child was dead.

The man who stood close enough to watch grief hollow me out and never once flinched.

The man who took my son because a grieving daughter was easier to control than a mother.

And now he is using my living child to walk me into a church.

“I’ll never forgive you,” I hiss.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” he replies evenly. “You just have to obey.”

2

I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR HER. (ALEKSANDER)

“This is bullshit.”

Igor doesn’t bother acknowledging me right away. His eyes stay on the cathedral doors, on the last guests filtering into their seats, on the optics of this moment. Boss first. Brother second.

“You already agreed.”

“I agreed to an alliance,” I say quietly. “Not this.”

That earns me a glance. Sharp. Impatient.

“A church wedding to a woman I’ve never met?” I adjust my cuff, not because it needs it, but because my hands need something to do besides clench into fists. “You’re binding her to us permanently over a territorial dispute.”

“It stopped being territorial when the Colombians started buying federal inspectors.”

Igor steps closer, lowering his voice. “Kalinin controls the freight routes. Newark, Elizabeth. The warehouses and the unions. Federal movement—he hears about it before our own people do.” His expression hardens. “If the Colombians get their hooks into his network before we do, they don’t just move product. They move power.”

“And this requires me specifically?”

“Yes.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Convenient.”

“You’re steady. You don’t break under pressure. And unlike Mikhail, you know how to keep your head when things go sideways.”

Silence. I don’t give him the deflection he’s waiting for.

“You think I’d use one of the younger soldiers for this?” Igor asks. “Kalinin wanted permanence. Blood. Family. Not another business contract he can walk away from in six months.”

I stare toward the cathedral doors, jaw tight.

“And what does she want?”

Silence. That tells me enough.

I look back at him slowly. “You’re asking me to marry a woman who probably found out about this five minutes ago.”

“You think I’m thrilled about it?”