Hi everyone, I think that quarantine has motivated me to continue writing and get back to some hobbies that I really enjoy. I hope you are all staying safe and social distancing appropriately. Thank you to everyone who suggested places for me to get motivation and ideas, it helped so much. I am so excited to write about Marina and Bucky again. Please let me know what you think and leave a review. If you have suggestions or somethings you want to see, please let me know. I am eager to keep moving. This chapter is a little slow because I have to set up the rest of the story.

Marina POV

She remembered when she dreamed about the man she would marry. He would be tall and handsome. But he would also be sweet and caring. She could admit that she had an affinity for bad boys. All the novels she read showed how they would always have a soft spot for the girl they love. She always new that books were far off from reality, but she couldn't help but hope. Sam would always role his eyes when he saw her nose buried in a book. She can understand why now. She has never felt more naïve than she does now.

Life isn't a fairy tale. She should know that. Her sisters have screamed it at her every day since she was ten. Her mother was murdered for Christs sake. She should have known better than to dream of fairy tales and happy endings. The man she was going to marry may have looked like a dream, but she could see in his eyes that his soul was as black as the devil's. She had never seen eyes so soulless. She thought her sisters' glares were empty and vicious. They were nothing compared to this mans. It was as if he was made from ice itself.

The Russians were pulling her towards their vehicles by her upper arms. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't truly see any of their faces. She looked at her fathers anguished face as they pulled her towards the car. She imagined that this caused him a great deal of pain. He treated her sisters with nothing but cold disdain. She knew that he wasn't a good man. But she believed that he loved her. That he was devasted over this turn of events. She tried to burn his face into her memory.

But standing behind him were her sisters. There faces were full of satisfaction. The moment that they had prayed for every single day was finally coming to pass. Someone was taking her away. She was going to be miserable and probably eventually killed. Marina didn't love spending time with her sisters, but she would never wish for such… unfortune to befall them. The realization that they truly wished her harm was like a bucket of ice water.

A harsh tug on her upper arms caught her attention. She looked up, at the man that chose her and shivered. It was revulsion. He may be handsome, but it didn't change the fact that he was evil. That they were all evil. She hadn't' noticed before, but he was wearing gloves…in the summer.

She hadn't realized she stopped walking and was openly staring at him until he squeezed her arms painfully.

Marina yelped. There was no way this man was human. He had squeezed her left arm so hard she was sure it would break in half. She wasn't sure why it felt so much harder than her right.

He watched her openly gawk at his hand around her bicep. Her eyes were full of pain and confusion. She only received a scowl back from him before he began shoving her towards the car again.

That's when the reality of her situation set is. Along with panic.

She started to squirm, attempting to get out of his grasp. She didn't want his hands on her. She didn't want to get in that car and she certainly didn't want to marry him.

"Let go of me." She said, struggling against him.

She was ignored. The more she was ignored, the harder she fought and the more annoyed her captor became. It didn't take long before he stopped trying to drag her. He barked orders at another man in Russian. His voice had an angry, cutting edge to it.

The man nodded and headed behind the car to the trunk.

When the other man returned, he carried a bundle of rope in his hands.

Marina started shaking her head quickly.

"No… No you don't have to do that." He ignored her. He tightened the ropes and secured them around her wrists. She yanked on the rope, but it did nothing but dig into her wrists painfully.

She gasped as he bent at the waist, only slowing down marginally as he got closer to her. Her world spun until everything was upside down as she was thrown over his broad shoulder. She struggled more as his right arm wrapped tightly around her thighs. She kept trying to struggle, but it was like her weight didn't bother him at all.

He shoved her into the car and blind folded her. They took her from the life she has known for 20 years. She may not have loved every second of being locked up in her father's mansion, but it beat this. Anything would be better than being taken by an enemy as formidable as the Russians.

She thrashed and screamed and cried for them to let her go. She heard that rough voice speak in Russian again. Then more rustling. Then a sharp pain in her neck. Then nothing.

Bucky POV

They were headed to a mansion in upstate New York. This is where most of their business operations took place. It was also conveniently far away enough from Salvatore or anything that the girl was even remotely familiar with. If she somehow escaped, she wouldn't make it very far before someone found her again.

He wasn't sure why he picked her. The other sisters would have been more useful because they had knowledge of Salvator's business operations, but the heartbroken look in her father's eye when he took her was worth every piece of information lost.

He didn't want to admit that she did interest him. When he saw her reading that book quietly in her family's garden, he had assumed she would be gentle and quiet. Like her voice was. He hadn't expected the fight that she put up. The love and adoration he saw when she looked at her father was replaced by fear when she looked at him.

Which interested him. Most women in this world didn't care about what a man was like under his clean and proper exterior. Russian women wanted to marry him because he was handsome and powerful. They looked at him like he was some kind of God. But not her.

She didn't care about his status or his money or his reputation. It was interesting.

He could tell that she had practice in self defense and hand to hand combat. The way she fought him showed that she had some skill. Her panic and fear caused her to be sloppy, however.

She seemed innocent, not broken by the world they lived in yet. She would be amusing to torment. She would be his wife, in name only. He wasn't capable of caring about anyone. He wasn't sure how she would fit into his life, but hopefully it involved less screaming and struggling.

The girl had passed out on the seat beside him. He regarded her coldly. Now that she wasn't thrashing or fucking screaming, he could get a decent look at her face not filled with fear. She had rubbed her wrists raw from the struggling against her restraints. They would need to be taken care of or they would get infected. Stupid and useless. He couldn't have her die. Not yet.

But he had to admit, she was painfully beautiful. She was dressed in a yellow floral dress that showed off her slim calves and legs. He had noticed she was small when he first saw her, but she had barely reached under his chin when he stood next to her. Her long brown hair tailed down past her shoulders. She was lightly tanned and in shape. He wasn't even sure if she was wearing makeup. She looked like a dainty little creature who would wear flowers in her hair and had an aura filled to the brim with a lively happiness that made him sick to his stomach.

He loathes flowers and the false happiness they bring to other people. Just like he already loathed this little Italian flower.

"Do you think they'll follow us?" Steve asked, pulling his attention away from the girl.

Undoubtedly, they would try to take her back. He saw that much in her fathers' eyes.

"They'll try.

His eyes were drawn back to the window, but nobody followed them for the time being. They hadn't killed anyone in that house, so it would take less time for them to recuperate. Her father wanted her back. But he also saw how the little flowers siblings treated her. They were happy she was leaving. They had wished harm upon her.

Interesting.

"She is a nice piece of ass," Rumlow commented from behind the steering wheel.

Bucky head snapped forward. He was stuck between reprimanding Rumlow or not. She now belonged to him. People disrespecting her, could lead to people disrespecting him. But before he could make up his mind, another voice came to her defense.

"Keep your eyes to yourself." Snapped the rat.

He had nearly forgot about him. Thanks to him, they now had an advantage. But the Winter Soldier didn't miss the way the rat's eyes followed the girl and conveniently left out how much Salvatore cared about her. The rat cared deeply about her. He could see it in the way the man hovered over her. He could love her all he wants. But the Winter Soldier is possessive. He could never touch her or have her in the way he wants.

"What's your name again?" he asked slowly.

The rat froze, as if he could tell he made a mistake. But the angry glint in his eye didn't go away. The rat was brave. He didn't cower like many did.

"Sam." He replied finally, his response lacking the respect required of him.

The Winter Soldier raised his eyebrow. Clearly showing his unhappiness with the irritation in the rats words.

"My name is Sam, Sir." He corrected.

"Sam." The Winter Soldier repeated coldly. "I'll remind you that she is here because of you. Don't forget who you're speaking to."

Sam looked down.

"I won't. I apologize, Sir." The rat responded.

The girl seemed completely oblivious to Sam's romantic feelings towards her. She thought of him as a friend, a protector. As someone that she could trust. Their friendship would be useful. The winter soldier can use Sam to keep her under control.

"Your relationship with her will be useful." He said. Sam looked like he was going to be sick. "She has no idea it was you?"

"No.." He said, looking at her sleeping form. James could see the guilt in his eyes. The regret. He was considering helping her. He better not get any ideas about betraying the Russian Mob. That wouldn't end well for him, or the little flower.

"Good. We'll keep it that way." Sam looked relieved. "You'll continue being her guard dog."

If the ride here was any indication, the girl had some fire. She wasn't going to go quietly into the night and be the perfect little victim. Having her think Sam is innocent and there to protect her gives the Russians an advantage over her. They would use Sam to threaten her. It would be simple and effective.

Sam would have no choice but to go along with this plan. The man would never expose himself to her willingly. She would hate him forever. Sam was a fool for viewing himself to be morally superior to the Winter Soldier. He may care about her, but he was selfish. He would lie to her about how she ended up in her current emsituation/em so she wouldn't hate him. So she would still smile at him.

He saw the gates to the mansion approaching in the distance. Thankfully they made it home with no incidents. He had to meet with Pierce to go over the next steps of their plan before he returned to Russia. James would have to brief the rest of the residents of the mansion about who she is and to whom she belongs.

As they pulled in, he looked back down at the sleeping girl. This was going to certainly be interesting. He looked back over at Sam.

"Take her to my wing." He instructed, tossing him a piece of metal. "Cuff her to the bed."

Sam nodded slowly, carrying the girl into the house.

Steve signed. "Her father is going to try and get her back."

For being such an excellent soldier, Steve hated violence against the innocent. The Winter Soldier could tell this was going to be hard for his best friend. He saw how Steve flinched when he saw the wounds on her wrist. He always had the desire to protect the weak.

Steve was James Buchanan Barnes best friend since childhood. Probably one of the only people that he still cared about. He would do his best to make sure Steve wouldn't have to see the girl often. Just so he wouldn't suffer.

"He won't attack us as long as we have her. She's vulnerable and he knows he wouldn't be able to get her away from us alive." He said turning to walk up the steps.

Later:

"Interesting choice in women soldier." Pierce says, not looking up from the computer sitting on his desk. He was using the mansions main study as an office while he is in town. He had certainly made himself at home. Alexander Pierce was fierce and officiant man. The last boss of the Bravata in the United States met his untimely demise because he lacked the productivity that Pierce expected. James Barnes, code named the Winter Soldier, was meant to replace him.

James shrugged.

"I expected you'd pick one of the girls who knew more about his business." He said, finally looking up. "Why her?"

"I saw his weakness," James deadpanned.

That was a lie. The moment their eyes connected he knew he had to have her. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else. He was thankful that though he was lying, the girl was her father's favorite child. It makes justifying why he took her a little easier. He didn't want Pierce to sense his moment of weakness.

"We can trade her for another one." He suggested calmly. "I'm sure Salvador would be more than happy."

Pierce snorted, shaking his head. "I was upset in the moment. Until I saw his reaction. He won't put a single toe out of line so long as we have her."

"I figured."

Pierce saw the advantage as clear as day. Salvador loved his youngest daughter. He tolerated the others. Taking the youngest was the ideal move. He may have fought back if James had taken any of the other girls, not caring about their fate. But not his youngest. He would do nearly whatever the Russians required of them to keep her safe.

He wondered why Salvador cared for you so much more than the others. Salvador's first wife died in a mysterious fire that was never investigated. He married the girls mother not even two months later.

"The decisions you make show your ready to lead American portion of the business." Pierce interrupted his thoughts.

His head perked up.

"Don't look so surprised." He says, chuckling. "I brought you here for a reason. You can make the hard decisions. With no remorse. You would never be so weak. Especially not over a woman."

James nodded his head. He would prove to Pierce that he was making the right choice. The Bravata would prosper under him, he would be sure of it. Especially now because the Italians would no longer be a problem. So long as they had the girl, they could force the Italians to fight the Triad for the Bravata. He could focus on making them stronger, while his two enemies killed each other.

There would be no way for her to escape or for someone to rescue her. The only way she would escape the mansion is with the rat.

"I am concerned about the rat." James voices his mistrust.

"Wilson?" Peirce scoffed. "Why?"

"He cares about the girl." James responded. He would not underestimate the rats feelings towards the little flower. Sam may be willing to play along for now, but James wasn't sure how long it would be before his guilt ate him up inside and the rat would decide to set her free.

"Your right." Pierce said, interrupting his thoughts. "But she cares about him to."

Not in the way he cares for her.

"I don't like it." He says.

"Possessive, already are you?" Pierce says with an eyebrow raised.

Yes.

"No." James responded. "But if he helps her escape-"

"He won't." Pierce says, waving him off. "He knows that he won't be the only one to suffer if he betrays us. He has a mother and sister living in DC. We just need to remind him we'll pay them a visit if he doesn't play along like he's supposed to."

Now that was something the Winter Soldier would be happy to remind Sam of.

Marina POV

Marina woke, the sun was shining on her face; the bright light bleeding through the slightly parted curtains of her room. Sighing contently, she snuggled into her pillow, the warmth of the sun giving a whole new meaning to the word comfort. The sunshine made her feel relaxed, peaceful. She had almost drifted back to sleep until she realized something wasn't quite right about her situation. She could feel the sun shining on her, but the room she was in was freezing cold. The tip of her nose almost hurt from simply breathing.

She didn't want to open her eyes. The realization of her situation was dawning on her. She had been taken by the enemy. She had to escape. There was no other option besides escape… or perhaps suicide. It didn't seem like a terrible choice. Death seemed more welcoming than her other option, spending the rest of her life tied to a man who will probably torture her for fun. A lifetime spent in this mansion with the Russians… now that was truly terrifying. She was never one for death; at least not at her own hand. Suicide was never the answer and she felt sad for those who believed different, but herself, ironically, might have just become one of those poor souls.

Marinas mind was racing as she lay in bed. She needs to think of a plan but was struggling because her mind was racing. She didn't even know which member of the Russian Bravata she was now engaged to. Her mind was still in shock, but she knew she would have to make up a plan. Better late than never.

She opened her eyes and she wasn't in a prison cell like she expected. She was in a large room, with a bathroom attached to it. The walls were white and clean, the room well decorated. There was a window. She could try to escape that way.

She went to hop off the bed but was quickly reminded she was indeed a prisoner here. Her wrist was handcuffed to the bed. The metal was digging harshly into her throbbing wrist.

Both of her wrists had been rubbed raw and bloody during her struggle on the drive to…wherever they were. They were somehow throbbing and burning at the same time, oozing clear liquid in the most aggravated spots. Looking at her own flesh being torn up, made her queasy.

She fell back against the mattress, her head swimming.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before she heard the door unlocking. She tensed, until she saw a familiar face walk through.

"Sam-" She exclaimed, sitting up but quickly collapsing back against the mattress.

He rushed to her side. She tried to get up again, but he gently touched her shoulder.

"Don't sit up to fast." He said, helping her sit up against a pillow. Her head swam.

"God. I feel like crap." She said, touching her head. It felt warm to the touch.

"You've looked better." He said, shooting her one of his signature half smiles. He was trying to make light of the situation. To make her feel better.

"Gee, thanks Sammy." She said, smiling weakly. "You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself."

But she imaged he wasn't lying. She had been drugged and dragged across New York State against her will. She hasn't showered or changed her clothes in at least 24 hours, which left her feeling sticky and sluggish. Marina was surprised she didn't feel hungry. The drugs were probably still getting out of her system, curving her appetite.

She needed to recover some of her strength, but then they needed to get out of here. They would need to have enough energy to get at least a 12 hour head start.

She touched him hand. "We must escape this place. There has to be a way."

He stood and looked down at her, shaking his head. Regret swimming in his eyes.

"There is no way to escape. They made that clear." He said.

That made her worry. How did they make it clear? Did they already hurt Sam when she was sleeping? She knew escape would be incredibly difficult, but she didn't think it would be impossible. Sam had probably been trying the entire time she was out to find a way to escape. She trusted him. If he said there wasn't a way right now, she would bide her time.

They needed a plan for the meantime.

"What will happen to us? He can't truly plan to marry me." She reasoned. "The Russians hate Italians. There's no way he is actually interested in… that."

He would have to be insane. There had never been a union between a Russian man and an Italian woman. For good reason. Their families had been waring since the 1940's. Marriage would only end up with someone dead. In this case, it would probably be her.

Sam shook his head grimly.

"Your father and the Russians have been at war for years." He said. "They have been waiting for an opportunity to control your father for years… They won't let you go easily"

She looked down at her hands, her knuckles chalk white from clutching the fabric of her dress. "So they are going to make my father pay by hurting me?" Her voice broke. She cleared her throat, trying hard and failing to hold onto her composure.

"No Marina. I don't… I don't think they'll hurt you." He said honestly, trying to reassure her. "Your father would attack this place with an army, no matter the losses to get you back if that were the case. The Russians may use you to keep your father in line. They may force him to help in the fight against the Triad. Maybe give up some of his territory."

Her father would never give up his territory, not even for family, no matter how much his heart wanted him to. He couldn't. Not for one of his children. A girl, no less. She was lost. Her vision swam again, and she slumped back down onto the mattress.

"I don't feel well" she muttered. Vision fading.

"I know. Get some rest. Sleep off whatever's in your system. He will want to see you soon."

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