"I used to be considered quite charming."
"When?" Olivia demands. "When you were a baby? I've known you all my life and you've always been an enormous asshole."
I frown. "What, precisely, have I ever done to you?"
"Nothing personally, but you facilitate everyone else, don't you. Antonio wants me out of sight, so you saysure, send her here. Matteo gets fed up with me, so you move me into your place. Piotr wants a date, so you deliver him to me. You think you're some sort of king but you're just doing everyone else's bidding."
"That's not true."
"It is, and it's pathetic."
My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. "Watch it, Olivia."
Upset or not, I won't let her disrespect me. Pouting, she turns dramatically to look out of the window, but I know she's not finished pouring out her rage and frustration yet. Olivia doesn't relent so easily.
She manages to hold in her emotions until we get back to the palazzo. I've barely stopped the car before she flings herself out of it with such recklessness she lands on her knees on the gravel driveway. I hurry to help her, but she pushes to her feet and storms into the house.
Heels clicking on the marble flooring, she storms into the sitting room, startling Violetta, who's on the sofa with a book in her lap. With her legs curled up under her, she looks like she belongs here.
Her big amber eyes follow Olivia as my cousin goes straight to the drinks cabinet at the far side of the room. Olivia pours herself a large Scotch and gulps it straight down before pouring another.
"Should I…" Violetta looks toward the door.
"No, stay where you are."
"Yes, Violetta, stay where you are," Olivia sneers. "Witness for yourself what assholes the men in this family are. Oh, wait, you already know, since this one locked you in a fucking basement before deciding to take you out and play with you."
"Enough, Olivia!" I roar. Taking a deep breath, I calm myself. "Your brother wants you to marry Reznov and that's an end to it."
"Oh, the great Damiano Volante says that's the end of it so I guess that's that." Olivia turns to Violetta. "Get out while you still can. Women are nothing more than cattle around here."
"Olivia." As I take a step toward her, she hurls her glass across the room. It smashes off the wall, shattering into a hundred pieces. She barges past me, eyes glistening with tears, and leaves the room.
When she's gone, I rub my forehead. What a shitshow. I turn to look at Violetta, whose face betrays her shock.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," I say wearily.
She bites her bottom lip. "Olivia's scared."
"She's a spoiled brat."
"No." Violetta shakes her head sadly. "She's scared."
I nod, because she's right, and sink down onto the edge of the sofa. Violetta comes and sits next to me, close but not touching. She surprises me by taking my hand and squeezing it. I like it.
"Does she have to marry this man?"
"It's what her brother wants."
"And what she wants doesn't matter?" There's an edge of irritation in her voice now.
"Olivia is young. She doesn't know what she wants."
Violetta huffs out a breath. "She does. She just doesn't want to be pushed into it."
"What do you know about it?" I don't intend to sound as hostile as I do.
"We spent the afternoon picking out clothes together. We talked." Violetta releases my hand. "And believe it or not, Damiano, women don't want to feel like they're merely pawns in the games powerful men play."
