Page 15 of Of Murder and Matrimony

“You think I should be grateful that you’re holding me hostage?” she asked incredulously.

“I think it’s rude to take your grievances out on Martina when all she’s done is try to make you comfortable,” I corrected her. “She and my mother used to treat you like their own when you came here as a child.”

Olesya had the good sense to look ashamed for a moment before bristling again. “I bet your mother is so proud of what you’ve done, taking me from my home. She probably doesn’t even know I’m here, does she?”

“I doubt she knows much of anything, as the dead aren’t typically aware of the living,” I replied flatly.

She gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “Dante. I didn’t know. Ivan never said anything about it.”

“I can see why he wouldn’t want to tell you that the Russians ordered the hit,” I said with a sneer.

“No,” she breathed. “My brothers would never do that. Not your mother.”

“I can show you the footage recovered from the cameras in the neighborhood where she was blown up. They also nearly killed Niccolò at Romeo’s wedding when they sent a shooter to the church.”

Olesya closed her eyes, all color draining from her face.

“So, you see,” I continued when she stayed silent, “I don’t find marrying you to be a particularly offensive act when I could have just as easily had you killed in retaliation.”

“You wouldn’t.” She wrung her fingers in her lap.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save my family, Olesya.” I drew my gun from the holster at my hip and held it in my hand, the barrel directed at her. My fingers didn’t shake, though the prospect of murdering the woman beside me caused my lunch to threaten to rebel. I knew my soul was tainted enough to follow through if necessary. “If you prefer death, it can be arranged, though it would be a shame to mar such a beautiful face.”

She looked at me with terror in her eyes, her mouth opening and closing like she was struggling to find a response. There was only one logical decision for her to make, and I hoped she would choose wisely.

“Marriage doesn’t seem like a capital offense when faced with the prospect of your own death sentence, does it?”

“No.” Olesya’s words were barely audible.

I waved the gun with my words, and she followed the movements. “What will you choose, mia piccola fantasma?”

My little ghost. I was a finger’s flex from bringing that to fruition.

“I’ll marry you, Dante.” Olesya’s sigh of relief covered my own when I removed my finger from the trigger and holstered my weapon.

“You made the right choice.” I relaxed into my chair and crossed my ankle over the opposite knee. “Now, let’s discuss terms.”

“I have a choice?” she asked cautiously.

“Of course.”

She looked at me warily, but nodded.

“We’ll marry as soon as everything can be arranged. I want the ceremony at the church,” I began. “My sister Coletta is coming to help you with everything. I expect you to cooperate.”

“I can do that. Do I get to choose what I’d like?” She was all business now, having recovered from her shock.

“Buy every flower in the city for all I care,” I said with a wave. “It’s your wedding. Make it what you’d like.”

“That might take some time.”

“I’ll give you a week. No more than two.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m supposed to arrange a wedding in less than two weeks? Men are so out of touch.”

I didn’t argue with her because it was true. I had no idea what went into wedding planning. That was best left to the women. “After we’re married, you’ll live here. Sleep in the same room. I won’t have anybody questioning the validity of our union.”

“Fine.” Olesya tapped her bare toes against the floor.

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