Page 29 of Bound in Possession

Ever since last night at the gala, when he pinned me against the restroom vanity, ruthlessly edged me right to the brink of a screaming climax, and then cruelly pulled away to cart me straight back home, I haven't spoken a single word to him. The sheer frustration and anger from being left completely unfulfilled and manipulated has solidified into a cold, stubborn silent treatment. Ignoring his calls is the only shred of control I have left, and I am going to milk it for all it's worth.

"Everything okay, Cami?" Eleonora asks, noticing my brief glance toward my purse.

"Perfect," I smile, reaching for the wine bottle to refill her glass.

We finish the rest of our food, the plates eventually cleared away to leave only our half-empty glasses and the warmth of lingering laughter. For a few more beautiful minutes, we just sit together, completely wrapped up in each other's company.

"Good evening, ladies."

The smooth, deep voice cuts through our laughter like a blade slicing through silk.

I freeze instantly, the smile vanishing from my face as a familiar, heavy aura blankets the entire booth. I look up to see Maksim standing at the edge of our table. He looks towering and devastatingly sharp in a dark designer suit, his gray-blue eyes sweeping over the scene.

He doesn't look at me. Not even a glance.

Instead, he fixes his attention entirely on my sisters, his expression smoothing into a mask of perfect, lethal politeness.

"I hope I am not interrupting," he says smoothly. "I wanted to officially introduce myself. I am Maksim Sokolov. I trust the restaurant has treated you well tonight and the food was to your liking?"

My sisters stiffen for a fraction of a second, the heavy weight of his name sinking in, but they quickly recover their composure. They are Carusos, after all; they know how to navigate dangerous men.

"The food was exquisite, Mr. Sokolov. Thank you," Rosalia says, her tone perfectly polite but laced with a protective vigilance. She shifts her gaze to me before looking back at him. "We were actually just getting ready to leave since it is getting quite late. But we truly appreciate your hospitality tonight."

"The pleasure is mine," Maksim replies, his voice a low, courteous rumble. "I will see you all again at the wedding."

I am absolutely seething. My blood runs hot with a mixture of defiance and pure fury as I slide out of the booth to hug my sisters goodbye. I hold onto each of them tightly, whispering quiet promises to call them tomorrow, before walking them out to the front entrance of the restaurant. We watch as they are escorted into their separate waiting vehicles, pulling away into the night.

The very second the last car disappears around the corner, the polite facade drops. I whirl around on my heel to face Maksim, who is standing right behind me in the shadows of the awning.

"You are unbelievable!" I snap, my voice trembling with rage. "Did you really have to come down here just to watch me? To show me that you own the place? I told you I was having dinner with my sisters, and you just couldn't resist holding the leash, could you?"

Maksim doesn't look angry. His face is a dead, unreadable mask as he turns away from me and begins walking briskly down the concrete steps toward our waiting SUV.

"Follow me," he says flatly over his shoulder.

His complete lack of an argument makes me even more livid. I storm down the steps after him, my chest heaving. "Don't ignore me, Maksim! I am speaking to⁠—"

He stops dead in his tracks and snaps his body back around to face me, towering over me so suddenly that the words catch in my throat. The cold, dangerous Pakhan from the gala is back.

"Next time I call you, Camilla," he growls, his voice dangerously low, his eyes flashing with an icy promise, "you pick up the fucking phone. Am I making myself clear? I don't care if you're angry or what. When I call, you answer."

I open my mouth to fire back a scathing retort, taking a furious step forward, when a sharp crack echoes under my feet.

My ankle wobbles violently as the heel of my left shoe snaps completely off against a groove in the concrete. I let out a sharp gasp, stumbling sideways as I lose my balance.

Before I can hit the ground, Maksim's massive hands catch me by the waist, anchoring me against his solid frame. "Let go of me," I hiss, trying to push against his chest.

He ignores my protest, his eyes dropping to my broken shoe. He bends down, intending to scoop me up into his arms, but I fiercely shove his shoulders.

"No! Do not carry me. I am not a helpless child, and I am certainly not letting you carry me like a trophy after you just ruined my night!"

Maksim pauses, looking up at me through his dark lashes. For a second, I think he’s going to override me and lift me anyway. Instead, a heavy silence settles between us.

Without a word, he steps back. He reaches down, unbuckles his own expensive, polished leather dress shoes, and steps right out of them. Then, he bends down, grabs my feet one by one, and gently slips my broken heels off my feet.

Before I can even ask what he's doing, he slides his own large, dress shoes right in front of my bare feet.

"Put them on," he commands quietly.