Three of my men surround Rob while Olivia rounds on me. Her eyes are wide, but there are no tears in sight.
Even now, she tries to be brave. It’s admirable.
Foolish, but admirable.
“What are you going to do to him?” she demands.
“I’m going to make sure he understands that I am not the man to fuck with.”
“He needs all his limbs, Aleks!”
“Not what I had in mind. But thanks for the inspiration.”
She grabs my arm. “You can’t do this.”
I use her hand to pull her towards me. She hits my body, and I can’t help glancing towards her brother to see what he thinks of our intimate proximity.
That snarl seems to suggest he isn’t such a fan.
“I can do whatever the hell I want, princess,” I growl into her face. “You know why? Because I’m the fucking don.”
“Tell me what I can do to save him,” she pleads. “I’ll do anything.”
“We’ve been down this road before, Olivia. Unless you want me to fuck you in front of him for the sheer sport of it, you’re not much use to me.”
She flushes with both embarrassment and anger. But then her jaw clenches and her eyes burn. “If that’s what it takes, so be it.”
I sigh as if I’m disappointed. “You’re the same thing you’ve been from the start, Olivia: a horny little girl in over her head. Just step back and do as you’re told.”
She jerks her face out of my grip, looking like she wants to take a shot at me. I almost wish she would. It would make this day so much more interesting.
But while her hand trembles, she doesn’t try to touch me again.
“Don’t do this,” she says instead.
“There’s no saving your brother from himself,” I tell her. “But at the end of it, you might wish that I’d just taken a limb instead.”
Her expression clouds over with confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” I say. Just then, a side door opens and a man in a priest’s collar shuffles in. He keeps his head down—the less he sees, the better, as per my instructions to him. Nice of someone to do as they’re told for a change.
“What is this?” Olivia asks in a rising panic. “Who is he?”
“The officiant.’
‘The officiant? Like…’ She frowns. ‘Huh?”
“Who else would you have marry us?’
Over his sister’s shoulder, Rob is purpling with silent rage. How he’s holding it back is beyond me. He looks like he might pop a vein in his forehead if he doesn’t scream and kill something right now.
Poor bastard. I know the feeling.
But he should’ve known better than to fuck with the Bratva.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia splutters. “I think I heard you wrong.”
“No,” I retort, “you didn’t. We’re getting married today, Olivia. And your brother was thoughtful enough to be here to watch it happen.”
“You… you can’t be serious, Makarova,” Rob stammers.
I tap my chin thoughtfully. “Why would I joke about the holy bonds of matrimony?”
Another door opens and four of my men come hustling in with a table, which they set up in the middle of the space. A fifth sets a thin stack of paperwork on top of it.
“You can’t force me to do this,” Olivia finally blurts.
I laugh in her face. As if saying something so pitiful will stave off the inevitable.
“Force you?” I ask in mock surprise. “Of course not. You want to marry me, Olivia. You just don’t know it yet.”
“You son of a bitch!” Rob yells as he suddenly lunges forward.
My men are quick to grab hold of him. There’s no way he’s getting through that human wall. All he can do is strain, hurl insults at me, and keep growing redder and redder.
I round on him. “I warned you, Lawrence,” I snarl. “I gave you very specific instructions and you ignored them all. So now? Now, we’re about to become family.”
“Aleks,” Olivia says, grabbing my arm again feebly. “This… this isn’t happening…”
She sounds so helpless. So fragile. Poor little thing doesn’t know what to do.
But I know.
I always know.
‘It’s unfortunate that you’ve been caught in the middle of this, Olivia,” I sigh. “But I gave your brother multiple warnings.”
“He’ll listen this time,” she says, close to tears. “He will, I swear. Right, Rob? Right?”
“No, he won’t. Look at him.” She doesn’t move, so I grab her face and wrench it around until she’s staring her brother in the eye. “He won’t ever stop, Olivia. He’s a bulldog with the scent in his nose. Or at least, what he thinks is the scent, even if he’s wrong. He’s not that much different from me, come to think of it. Rob just chose his path and I was born to mine.”
“He will listen,” she protests again. Her voice is growing weaker and weaker. “I’ll… I’ll make him. I’ll convince him.”
I shake my head like a disappointed parent. “There are consequences to every action. And he’s going to meet his now.”
A sob escapes her lips with no words attached.
I turn from her towards the priest. “Are we ready?”
He nods without raising his eyes to meet mine. He’s really taking this “see no evil, hear no evil” thing to heart. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles. “Bring the bride forward.”
“Bride?” Olivia gasps, as if that one simple word is finally making this real to her. “I’m not a bride. No… no, you can’t make me marry him.”
“Olivia!” Rob tries to force himself between my men. All that does is earn him a punch to the gut.
Olivia screams as he falls to his knees and groans.
“You can make this easier on him,” I whisper in her ear as two of my men grab him and haul him back to his feet and a third rears back to punch him again.
Fearing the worst, Olivia throws her hand out and grazes the Bratva soldier’s elbow. “No, stop! I… I’ll do whatever you want.”
I hold up a hand and my soldiers freeze in place. “What was that?” I ask her mildly.
She wrenches her eyes to mine and blinks back her tears. “I’ll… I’ll marry you.”
I nod. “Smart choice.”
“Jesus Christ, Liv!” Rob explodes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m trying to save your life!” she yells back at him.
“And I’m trying to save yours!”
I look between them both with amusement. “It’s cute that you think either of you have the power to save one another. The only one who has any power here is me.”
“I’ll recuse myself from the fucking investigation, okay?” Rob gasps desperately. “I’ll leave you alone. Just… just don’t do this. Let her go. Let her leave with me.”
“I’m doing you a favor by letting you leave at all. Now,” I say to my men, “bring him over here. I want dear Agent Lawrence to have a good view of the ceremony.”
He struggles as they pull him forward, a bull raring to get out of his cage. I’m not worried even if he does. He’s a big guy in his own right, but I dwarf him all the same.
And even if I didn’t, I was built by the Bratva. He was built by the system. We are not the same.
“Olivia,” I say, holding out my hand for her. “Come.”
“Don’t do it, Liv!”
She takes a deep breath and slips her fingers into mine, ignoring her brother. I curl my hand around hers with satisfaction and coax her forward to the table.
She’s trembling, trying to process the fact that this is really happening. It’ll hit her later. When she’s alone in her room and she’s got nothing but the voices in her head to keep her company.
We make an odd party standing around the table. The priest takes the center position in front of the paperwork. I stand with Olivia on the opposite side. Demyan is on the left and Rob, held captive between two of my men, is on the right.
“No photographer at this wedding, huh?” Demyan chimes in with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Unfortunately not,” I say, glancing towards Rob. “You’ll just have to remember the details, Robert. That way, you can describe them later to your mother and sister.”
“You bastard,” he growls. “This is illegal.”
“On the contrary, I’d say it’s all quite above board. Olivia is an adult and she’s voluntarily consenting to marry me. Aren’t you, Olivia?”
I glance towards her, but even the brush of my gaze is intense enough that she understands the part she has to play to satisfy me.
“Yes.” Her voice comes out raspy and strange. “I am.”
“She’s under duress.”
“Life is never-ending duress, Robert.” I smirk. “The only thing you have to decide is how you let it break you.”
“No one is above the law, you son of a bitch. No one is untouchable.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
I nod to the priest, whose eyes have stayed steadfastly pinned to the floor. “Continue.”
He juts his chin at the paperwork. “Witnesses must sign,” he mumbles.
Demyan steps forward. “With pleasure.” He takes the pen lying on the table and signs his name at the bottom with flourish. Regular John fucking Hancock over here.
When he’s done, I give him a nod and turn towards Rob. “Your turn, Agent Lawrence.”
He laughs out loud. “You really are insane if you expect me to sign my name to that shit.”
“That’s exactly what I expect.”
Rob shakes his head. “No. No goddamn way.”
I glance towards Olivia and let out a long-suffering exhale. “Is he always this difficult?”
“Takes one to know one,” she hisses. Then she softens and glances over to her brother. “Rob, it’s okay. Just sign.”
He swallows. “Liv, this is not a game. After you sign on that dotted line, you’re going to be married to him. Legally, religiously, or whatever the fuck. In every way that matters.”
“I’m aware,” she croaks in a near-whisper.
“I don’t think you understand what that means.”
She frowns and that’s when I see the first fracture in her calm exterior. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,” she snaps. “I know exactly what’s happening. You do, too. You knew the risks involved with going against him.”
Even I’m surprised by the accusation. I suspect a part of her is just as taken aback.
“He’s a fucking kidnapper, Liv,” Rob says. “A human trafficker. I couldn’t just let him off scot-free.”
We’ve done this song and dance before, so I don’t bother denying it this time. He’s already made up his mind about that, so why go to the trouble? His opinion means nothing to me. In a few short moments, he’ll be taken out of the game.
She sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Liv—”
“I want you to do me a favor, okay?” she asks. When he doesn’t answer, she adds, “Rob, please.”
He nods reluctantly. “Anything.”
“I want you to tell Mom and Mia that I’m okay. I’m not hurt and I’m not in any danger. At least the first part of that is true. But sell it all so they buy it, do you understand?”
“They’ll never believe me, Liv.”
“Make them,” she growls in a tone that’s not dissimilar to mine.
“I’m gonna get you out of this,” he tells her as if I’m not standing right here watching the proceedings. “I promise you that.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Rob,” she says mournfully. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
“Listen to your sister,” I suggest. “She clearly got the brains in the family.”
“Fuck you, Makar—”
One of my men kicks out his back legs. He falls to the ground again, hard. Olivia cries out and tries to move towards him, but I grab her and pull her back to my side.
“Stop this!” she screams, turning her burning brown eyes on me. “I’m giving you what you want. I’m marrying you.”
“If you think that’s enough,” I say, getting in her face, “then you still don’t understand me.”
I release her and look to my men. “Get him on his feet and bring him here. If he won’t walk himself, then break his legs and drag him.”
Rob stands stock-still, eyes brimming over with emotion. Rage, sadness, fear, helplessness. At his sides, my men flex their hands, ready to do what they must.
I arch an eyebrow. “What part of ‘break his legs’ sounded appealing to you, Robert?”
He falters. It’s pitiful to watch such a proud man brought to his knees. “I…”
“Look at your sister, Robert,” I growl. “Look at her face and decide what your next move is going to be.”
A clock ticks somewhere out of sight. Seconds pass. I prepare to give the order to inflict pain.
Then he sighs and slumps forward. “Okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “Okay.”
“Excellent,” I say. “Sign.”
Demyan moves forward and presses the pen into his limp hand. My crew stays close as Rob limps to the table.
He looks at the paper for a long time before he brings his pen down on the dotted line. His signature is lackluster and half-hearted. But it’s recognizable, and that’s all I need.
“Don Makarova,” the priest says. “Your turn.”
I take the pen and scribble across the space set out for the groom, then drop it with a clatter back to the tabletop.
“Now, the bride.”
“Stop calling me that,” Olivia snaps. She steps up with gusto—but when she’s at the precipice, she hesitates.
She gazes at the pen like it’s a snake. Three, four, five times, she reaches out to pick it up but pulls back at the last moment.
“Tick tock,” I say softly.
She glances over her shoulder towards me. Breathes me in like she’s taking in her future.
Then, steeling her posture, she turns and scrawls hurriedly across the space marked out for her.
“Is it done?” she asks. Her eyes are closed, as if that will change anything. Like not seeing will mean none of this is real.
“I will file the papers,” the priest says, barely audible. “Then, yes, it is legally binding.”
She winces, then turns to me. “Can I have a moment alone with my brother?”
“No.”
I’ve already turned away from her when she grabs my arm and tries to rip me back around. When she doesn’t succeed, she runs around and blocks my path.
“You got everything you wanted,” she points out. “He’s unarmed and surrounded by your men. All I’m asking for is a minute.”
“Try crying,” I suggest. “See how much that moves me.”
She shakes her head in dismay. “Does it make you feel good to be so cruel?”
“No. It makes me feel powerful.” I glance towards Demyan. “Take her.”
He grabs Olivia. She kicks and screams as he drags her out the front. A minute later, her screams are cut in half when he tosses her in a jeep and slams the door closed.
I turn back to her brother. After one look from me, my men release him, though they don’t go far.
He falls to one knee without their support, one palm flat on the floor the only difference between staying upright and collapsing completely.
His weakness, his pain, his fear—I can see and smell it all on him. Another mistake I’d have never made.
Never allow your enemies to see just how much they’ve got to you.
“We’re family now, Lawrence,” I tell him quietly. “You go after me, you go after your sister. We’re one and the same.”
His eyes flash with ferocity as he turns his face up toward me. “You are not the fucking same. She is better than you in every way.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“She’s kind, and loving, and patient,” he breathes. “She is the best of us. If you hurt one hair on her head, I’m going to take your life one day. And by God, I will make it hurt.”
I smile. Like recognizes like, and I sense a kindred spirit here, albeit a misguided one. “I look forward to that day, Agent Lawrence.”
Then I turn and head for the door.
“Makarova!”
I glance back towards him.
“Just don’t… don’t hurt her.”
There’s no anger or threat in his tone when he makes his appeal. He’s acting with nothing but pure fear for his sister.
I meet his eyes for a moment. Then I turn and resume my walk out. Just before I go, I call over my shoulder, “Unfortunately for my new bride, I’m not in the habit of making promises I can’t keep.”
