Page 85 of Bound in Possession

I look into her stubborn, beautiful eyes and choose not to argue. Massimo Caruso may be her blood, but this is my house, and I am more than capable of protecting my wife from her father if it comes down to it.

"Alright," I murmur softly, kissing her forehead.

I wait by the terrace door while Camilla slips into a loose, elegant silk house dress. Once she knots the belt around her waist and slides her feet into soft slippers, she reaches out for my hand. I entwine my fingers with hers, and together, we head downstairs to face her father.

Massimo is pacing back and forth across the marble floor, his polished shoes clicking sharply against the stone. The moment his eyes land on Camilla, his jaw tightens into a hard, furious line, and his posture stiffens with cold rage.

He doesn't care that she was kidnapped. He doesn't care that she barely survived the night. He is livid.

"Maksim," Massimo barks, stepping forward, his hands gesturing sharply as he tries to assert dominance over my foyer. "You acted like a reckless vigilante last night. Do you have any idea the political disaster you’ve created across the families by executing Viktor without a council vote? And you—" He turns his blazing glare directly on Camilla, his tone dripping with patronizing venom.

"—wandering through public events, getting yourself taken like a helpless amateur. You are embarrassing this family. You are my daughter before you are his wife, and you will learn your place!"

A lethal, dark heat rushes through my veins. My grip tightens, and I step forward, my jaw set, ready to tear Massimo's throat out right in front of the grand staircase.

"Massimo, watch your fuck⁠—"

Before I can finish, Camilla’s soft, firm hand touches my arm. She steps slightly in front of me, putting herself directly between her father and me.

This time, she doesn't hide behind my shadow. This time, she speaks for herself.

"You lost the right to call yourself my father the moment you entered me into that sickening auction," Camilla says, her voice smooth, steady, and sharp as a velvet-sheathed blade. She looks Massimo straight in the eyes, her chin held high, not a single tremor in her voice. "You did not protect me. You did not give me away in marriage. You sold me. You treated me like property, and the minute that gavel came down, you surrendered every ounce of authority you ever had over my life."

Massimo's face turns a dark, dangerous red.

"Because of that," she continues, taking a deliberate step toward him, "you no longer get to decide how I behave, where I stand, or what kind of woman I become. You have no power here."

"Silence!" Massimo roars, his chest heaving as he raises a hand pointing a trembling finger at her face. "You will not speak to me with such insolence in front of⁠—"

I step up beside Camilla, my hand resting heavily on the small of her back, my shadow towering over her father. My eyes lock onto his with pure, unadulterated warning, my voice an icy rasp.

"In my house, Massimo, my wife speaks whenever she damn well pleases," I say softly, the threat hanging heavy in the quiet foyer. "And you will listen."

Massimo looks like he’s about to explode in sheer, unadulterated anger. His jaw twitches, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists as he realizes he has completely lost control—not just of the political game, but of the daughter he thought he owned.

I step past Camilla, placing myself fully between her and the storm raging inside her father, staring him down with cold, calculating detachment.

"Since we are discussing political consequences, Massimo, let us be entirely clear about where we stand," I say, my voice smooth, quiet, and deadly. "The original terms of our alliance are dead. Effective immediately."

Massimo’s head snaps toward me, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What?"

"You expected full access to the Bratva’s private offshore financing routes in exchange for this union," I continue, slowly folding my arms across my chest. "That is no longer happening. I am cutting the Caruso network out of our major banking channels entirely. I am retaining only the localized shipping lanes that directly serve Sokolov interests."

"You can't do that!" Massimo thunders, taking a frantic step forward. "That was the entire foundation of our agreement⁠—"

"The foundation was compromised the moment Viktor bypassed your security protocols," I cut him off sharply, my tone leaving zero room for debate. "It was through Caruso links that Viktor was able to track my wife to the opera house and breach the perimeter. Your infrastructure is soft, Massimo. It is leaky, corrupt, and compromised. I will not trust Bratva wealth to a network that cannot even secure its own backdoors."

Massimo stands frozen, the color draining from his face as the brutal reality of the situation settles into his chest.

He didn't just lose his daughter today. He lost his leverage. He thought using Camilla as a trade piece would shackle the Sokolov syndicate to his command, but instead, the marriage has consolidated my power and left him completely vulnerable.

By standing up to him and refusing to be broken, Camilla didn't just survive Viktor—she exposed the rotting weakness at the core of the entire Caruso enterprise.

He looks from me to Camilla, who meets his glare with silent, unwavering strength.

A low, primal growl rips from Massimo's throat. Realizing he has been completely outmaneuvered in his own game, he turns on his heel without another word and storms out of the mansion, slamming the heavy mahogany doors behind him with a crash that rattles the chandelier above.

Silence fills the foyer once more.