Chapter 3 Promises

Despite being half Italian by blood, Olivia was quickly forced to recognise that her blood meant nothing when it came to understanding what the fuck Santino's men were constantly chatting about around her. Blood didn't mean that she could magically speak Italian. Her upbringing had ensured that she didn't speak a word of it. It was safe to say that her grandfather was not the biggest fan of her mother and since he had a say in what Olivia was taught and what she wasn't, he made sure she wasn't taught anything about Italy or anything relating to her mother. Italian was one of those things she was strictly forbidden from learning. "È la sorella di Lama?" Is she Blade's sister? Olivia shot them a deadly glare and they shut up immediately, almost stumbling over their feet as they ran away. The least her grandfather could've taught her was how to say 'fuck off' or 'I will kill you' or 'my brother will hear about this' in Italian. Alas, here she was. "I told you to go to sleep." Olivia only scoffed. She was exhausted. She'd already decided the moment they stepped off the plane that she hated Italy. It was raining cats and dogs despite it being early December and none of them spoke Russian or English. Or maybe they were ignoring her. She didn't know. All she knew was that when she came back to Russia, she'd never come back to her mother's home country. It wasn't Olivia's country no matter what ran through her veins. Her place was in Russia as her grandfather always said. "You went quiet again." Snapping her head to his, she glared at Santino. "I hate Italy." Glaring at her, he grabbed a fistful of her hair before she could turn away and stomp away. Pinning her against the car, his much larger form loomed over hers as his hand closed around her neck, threatening her with a small squeeze. "I hate Russia." Her blood started boiling, her chin standing high proudly just as she'd been taught by her grandmother. As scary as some men appeared, they'd never be more scary than the shit her family were going to do to them all when they found her. Her grandmother would tell Olivia that she had to remember that she was part of the Bratva and that the Bratva didn't bow down to anyone. And she certainly wouldn't bow down to the likes of him. "This isn't working out; we should break up." His glare was instantly replaced by amusement. Before Olivia could take the ring off, he took the wrist of her left hand and kissed the huge sparkling diamond. "I disagree." "I read somewhere that couples who fight within the first week of their relationship are meant to doom." "I read somewhere that couples who fight have great sexual chemistry." Her eyebrow twitched. "My grandfather will kill you." His lips moved to the inside of her bandaged wrist and placed a kiss against the covered wound. "You're lucky if my mom doesn't try to kill you." Olivia blinked. "What?" Chuckling, he took her arm and dragged her to the car, practically shoving her inside the passenger seat before taking a seat beside her in front of the steering wheel. "You can't just shove me into a car!" "Can't I?" Reaching over her shoulder, he took the buckle of the seatbelt and secured her into the seat. "But I think I just did." Olivia let out a frustrated noise, causing Santino to laugh, unaware that their bickering only caused him to grow harder. He'd never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. Her frustration turned into desire when she watched him reach behind her seat, his muscles straining against his suit as he ignited the engine and pulled onto the road. Desire turned into curiosity when she glanced at the foreign landscape, however. "Where are we going?" "Home." "My home is in Russia." Turning his head, he glared at her as he further accelerated the car. "Your home is with me." Her thighs squeezed together. "Why are we going there?" Returning his attention to the road, he made himself comfortable for the long ride, appearing almost stoic like he hadn't literally kidnapped her. "We have a wedding to attend, principessa. Did you forget that while you slept?" She hadn't slept and she hadn't forgotten. "I should eat first." "You already ate." "Then I need to use the bathroom." "Wait it out." "I'm not going to marry you! I would never in a thousand years ever marry you-!" Olivia's words were cut short when his fiery glare locked with her hazel eyes. Her entire form suddenly shook at how calmly he held himself whilst his eyes promised the vilest form of violence. "You're going to marry me, principessa." His hands tightened on the wheel. "Everything has already been prepared. All that's missing is you walking your pretty ass down the aisle." Her toes curled. "But I just met you. It isn't right." "Do I look like a man who cares about what is right?" No, he looked like one who was battling his demons not to pull the car to the side of the road and fuck her right there in the back of the car until her knees were bruised and her voice ached. Running her fingers through her hair, Olivia tried to calm her nerves to no avail. It wasn't a day ago that she was celebrating her birthday with her family, followed by going out to one of Maxim's many clubs to continue the celebrations. Never in a million years could she have known that the man before her was going to whisk her away from everything she'd ever known and kidnap her only to force her into a marriage with him. It was straight off one of those many American TV shows she'd watched in her youth. She didn't even know how the man had prepared an entire wedding in the span of the time they'd spent on the plane. "When does the wedding start?" Olivia asked softly, needing to prepare herself mentally for the nightmare she was being forced into as she reached over to the AC. Olivia increased the heat setting as a cold tremor ran down her spine that didn't go unnoticed. Pulling off his blazer, Santino gently laid it against her body. "In two hours you're to walk down the aisle." Olivia said nothing as she pulled the oversized blazer further up her body to cover it, his delicious masculine scent instantly drowning her. Despite her annoyance with him, she was grateful for the small gesture and couldn't help but feel more comfortable and safe with him because of it. "And what is your family going to say about all the bandages?" He didn't care what they'd say. They'd believe what he wanted them to. Besides, the girl had hurt herself; he hadn't hurt her. "It's gonna be a long day. Get some sleep, Morozov." Rolling her eyes, she turned around once more so she'd face her captor. "I thought I was principessa and you were Saint." His lips tugged as he softly patted her head before returning his hand to the gearstick. "Everyone will eventually know that I stole the little Bratva princess right under Blade's nose anyway." He didn't even dare to say Maxim. Smiling tiredly, she blasted the heater. She was freezing to death in her party clothes. "That's my brother you're talking about." Despite her words, the amusement in her voice was clear. "If the dress is ugly, know that I'm going to cause a scene." She'd rather die than be seen in an ugly dress. Fashion was everything to Olivia. She was nothing if not expensive shoes, clothes and jewellery. Santino's eyes fell to hers, unable to help his surprise. Why was she so quick to accept it? His eyes turned into slits. "So?" "Like I said, don't worry about it." "All I have to say is 'I do'," Olivia added. "Let me guess, if I don't, you might kill me." Amusement filled his gaze. "Bingo." Crossing her arms, she'd accepted her fate. As quickly as she'd be tied to him, the Bratva lawyers could untie her from that fate. "Is that going to be your usual threat from now on? Do this or I'll kill you. Say this or I'll kill you. Blah blah blah or I'll kill you." He only hummed in response. That was the plan indeed. Olivia rolled her eyes once more, a half-amused smile on her lips. "That doesn't work with me. Not if you want the best act of the century." Despite his scoff, Santino played along, putting on a capricious smile as he locked his eyes with her. "If you aren't a good girl today, I'm going to send someone to finish the job and kill Lazar." Her smile instantly left her face. "That enough motivation for you?" "You wouldn't do that." "Wouldn't I?" The memory of watching Lazar being shot repeatedly and falling to the ground had her eyes brimming with tears and her throat tightening. She didn't know if he would, but the mere thought of Lazar dying made her sad. She'd known him all her life almost. "Fine," Olivia sighed, lowering her gaze. "Just leave Lazar alone. He's nice." Nice. That word again. Santino scowled. "Promise me to be a good girl and I won't." "I promise," she answered reluctantly. His jaw hardened, his eyes locking with the brat's. "Say it like you mean it, principessa." Sighing once more, Olivia nodded. "I promise I'll be a good girl today." She'd show him what a real good girl she could be for him.