2

Allison

"You're late." Paul's voice is a low growl. He's an American, no hint of a Russian accent, though I've heard his father barely spoke any English. Only the old tongue. "Everyone is waiting."

"They'll wait as long as it takes, won't they? You're the great Russian Lion, after all."

Is that the hint of a smile? No, of course not, Paul Debarcio doesn't smile. He only stares. "I want you downstairs. I want you walking down that aisle. No more delay."

"Are you going to drag me yourself? I bet the guests would love that. Why don't we put on a show for them?"

He takes a step forward. My hands come up to my throat involuntarily, like I'm protecting myself. His voice drops lower. "Don't test me, Allison. Don't be like your sister."

I open my mouth. I can't find any words. Horror rings through me, crystal clear like a frozen waterfall. I hate this man, hate him with every inch of my body, and I would do anything to kill him with my bare hands if I could.

But he's a hulking brute.

And he'l