Page 56 of His to Honor

They stare at each other for several long seconds. Reznov narrows his icy blue eyes. “You will owe me, Olivia.”

She nods. I should tell her not to make a deal with the devil on my behalf, but it’s too late. It’s done.

“Very well.” Reznov smiles grimly. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

CHAPTER 18

Giulia

It’s late evening when Piotr Reznov’s luxurious private jet touches down at Teterboro. He didn’t accompany me on the flight, something I’ll be eternally grateful for. I don’t think I could have coped with trying to make small talk with the terrifying Russian for eleven hours.

Though he didn’t disguise how reluctant he was to help me, he made sure I’d be taken care of. He arranged for his plane to take me home, agreed to contact my dad to have him meet me at the airport, and provided me with a change of clothing. It’s just a pair of black yoga pants, a loose-fitting white t-shirt, and white sneakers, but it was comfier to travel in than my wedding dress would have been.

Piotr also took care of the officials here and in Florence to ensure there would be no problems since I didn’t want to waste time by returning to the villa for my passport. I had no idea how soon Matteo would be back after his interrogations and I wanted to get away.

The flight was smooth and a beautiful blonde Russian attendant called Polina saw to my every need, not that I required much apart from a pillow and blanket so I could try to get some sleep. There was a bedroom on the plane, but I didn’t dare use it. Who knows what Piotr Reznov’s been up to in there?

With anxiety gnawing at my insides, I didn’t get much sleep. Matteo is going to be pissed that I ran from him. He’ll want to punish me and I’m not sure I can face that.

When I make my way down the steps from the plane, I’m relieved to see my dad’s Mercedes SUV waiting for me. He gets out of the car to greet me with a hug. He’s dressed, as usual, in black jeans and a black shirt. In his mid-forties, he’s still got an impressive physique.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” His pale blue eyes are filled with concern as he pulls back from our embrace. “I was shocked when Olivia Volante called to tell me you were coming home from Italy.”

I’m glad Livvy phoned him and not Piotr. Hearing from a Bratva leader that I’d been halfway across the world would have freaked Dad out even more.

“Can we talk in the car?”

“Sure.”

Before I take a single step, Polina calls out to me.

“Mrs. Volante.” She comes down the steps from the plane with my wedding dress draped over her arms. “You forgot this.”

Any thought I had of hiding the news of my marriage to Matteo just flew out of the window. My dad gives me a quizzical look as I take the dress from Polina.

“Thank you,” I say tightly.

“My pleasure.” Polina turns and struts back to the plane. My dad’s eyes follow her the whole way. The woman is incredibly attractive. If Piotr ever gets Livvy onto his plane, she’ll hate Polina on sight. One thing I know about the Volante princess is that she hates sharing the limelight.

While my dad’s distracted, I hurry around to the passenger side of his car and get in. My dad lingers on the tarmac for a moment and then gets behind the wheel. He looks at me, waiting for an explanation. “Mrs. Volante?”

“Can we just drive?” My voice is weary.

My dad purses his lips, displeased, but he starts the engine anyway. He’s done awful things in the Volantes’ name, but he treats me with as much care as he’s capable of. Even if he’s not happy with my lack of an explanation, he won’t push me. For the first ten minutes of our drive back to the city, he says nothing.

“I married Matteo,” I blurt out when the silence becomes too much to bear.

He nods, having already guessed that much from Polina calling me Mrs. Volante and the white gown that couldn’t be anything but a wedding dress.

“Did he force you?”

“No, I chose to marry him.” It’s a half-truth. Although my choice wasn’t entirely free, I opted to go along with Matteo to save myself and my family from his wrath.

“Thank god.” Some of the tension is released from his shoulders. “So what happened? Why are you here alone?”

“There was a shooting at the church.”

Dad slams on the brakes. I throw a hand out to brace myself on the dashboard as the car skids to a halt. He turns to me, his expression betraying horror.

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