“Would you like to get changed before we meet?” Mr. Rudolph asked as I ascended the steps in my wedding gown. “I’m more than happy to wait.”
“Why don’t we get this over with,” I replied, beating the Russian thug for once.
“Okay, but let’s at least get out of the heat, first,” Mr. Rudolph said, pushing the door open for us.
When I stepped past the lawyer and into the foyer, his eyes dropped to the floor. Drops of sweat spotted his brow and temples. Was it the heat, or did he have something to be nervous about? The thought sent my own stomach into free fall.
We all moved through the foyer and into my father’s office. The thug’s eyes darted across the desk to my father’s chair, the high backed leather throne where he’d run his empire. He didn’t move to sit in it, not yet.
Mr. Rudolph stepped to the side of the desk, with my new husband between him and me. He placed his briefcase on top and opened it up.
“Mr. Castello required an extra stipulation be attached to his will and the transfer of ownership after the marriage was certified,” the man said, just above a murmur. His hand rose from the briefcase with a file folder in it, holding it to the thug to take.
I wasn’t about to wait my turn and leaned close to snatch the papers first. The thug didn’t try to stop me but Mr. Rudolph tried to keep hold. A glare his way loosened his fingers.
“You have to understand, Olivia,” the man pled as I tore open the folder, “the marriage was only part of your father’s plan. Only when you and Dimitri…”
“I have to let this thug knock me up in a year or we both lose everything!” I spat after skimming the document.
I flung the folder at Mr. Rudolph. It fluttered over the desk, falling back down harmlessly along with the document. The thug glared at me, head tilted.
“You knew about this, didn’t you,” I hissed. Only the memory of how he had countered my attack the last time I’d tried to hit him stayed my hand.
“My wife and I are going to need some time to talk about this, alone, Mr. Rudolph.” The thug never took his emotionless eyes off me as he spoke. “You can see yourself out.”
The lawyer quickly snatched his briefcase up from the desk. In his haste, he forgot to close it completely. Something rattled inside when he pressed it closed against his side. Instead of fixing it in the room, he hobbled to the door. It closed behind him, leaving me in a staring contest with my new husband.
“If you think I’m going to let you touch me, you have another thing coming,” I said, trying and almost succeeding to keep my voice calm.
“You need to grow the fuck up, Olivia,” he replied.
His words felt like a slap. I’d been more than happy to fight back, give as good as I got. Being called immature by someone like him? The gall.
“I know you’re a smart woman,” he continued, stalking closer, those dark eyes drilling through me, never leaving, “I don’t care what you think about me. You could curse my name for the rest of your life as long as you do it in private. Your position, our position is precarious. A lot of your father’s men, the other families, they want to see us fail. When you act out, display your weaknesses to them, even men as loyal as Rudolph, you are giving them ammunition.”
My sneer didn’t falter but that took a hell of a lot of effort. After everything I’d been through in the last weeks, my anger reserve had been full to the brim, making it easier. His hands fell to my shoulders, holding me in place.
“I gave my word to your father that I’d fulfill his wishes,” he said, that hold remaining firm, “to protect you, to protect his empire. I plan on keeping my word.”
“There’s not enough liquor in the world for me to get drunk enough to ever sleep with you,” I whispered.
My arm shot across my body, freeing one of my shoulders. It swung high, pushing his other arm from me just enough. I stumbled back and turned. He made no effort to stop me.
7
Dimitri
After living in the Castello mansion on Indian Creek Island for a few days, I had not gotten used to the silence yet. Miami might not have been known as the city that never slept, but the nickname fit. The sound of traffic, music and carousing bled through the windows of my old apartment at all times of the day and often night.
Here on the private enclave for the upper crust in the middle of Biscayne Bay, the only sound from most of the night and day was the quiet hum of the mansion’s central air conditioning system.
Stepping out of my bedroom, only the clicking of my shoes on the hardwood floor added to that barely audible hum. Since our wedding, Olivia had spent her nights in her own room about as far away as possible from the guest room I slept in. The silence didn’t offer any clue as to where she was, not that she wanted to see me anyway.
The few times our paths had crossed, she had hardly said a word to me. Those angry eyes of hers expressed all she intended to share. As long as it remained private, I didn’t mind her anger. Hell, I understood it on some level, as much as I wished I could break through to her.
The silence reigned as I walked down the hallway toward the central foyer with its swooping staircases down to the ground floor on either side of it. No sign of my wife appeared in the cavernous entryway. When I arrived at the bottom of the stairs and reached for the doorknob, that changed.
“Are you meeting with my father’s men today?” Olivia’s emotionless voice almost echoed.
