Chapter Three
Aria Bianchi
“Pure white makes you look a little ashy, dear. Have you considered an off-shade?”
Livia’s dagger-like gaze drifted to Enzo’s aunt. “I think she looks stunning. We don’t all look like we’ve spent the past thirty years soaking in the sun.”
The backhanded insult had me biting my lip to keep from laughing as Enzo’s Aunt Jillian missed the insult entirely. “Maybe it would work if you took a weekend trip to the beach. I’m sure Enzo would be willing to pay for a condo to help you get a little color.”
I stared into the body-length mirror and sighed.
I had always imagined this so differently. I wanted a beautiful white dress to go along with the wedding I wanted. But instead, I saw precisely what Jillian was saying, as much as I hated to admit it. My skin had lost its usual glow over the past week, giving me a sickly pallor that didn’t work with this shade of white. The typical color of my eyes—mossy green swirled with a light shade of brown—had become muted with the stress.
Everything about me looked dull, and I knew I could attribute it to my anxiety about what would happen next in my life.
How would I survive him? Everyone knew of his brutality and unforgiving nature.
But still… he hadn’t told my father that I had spit in his face.
He had defended me against my father, and then he had walked away as if he’d done nothing. His parting words still echoed through my head days later.
Nobody will touch my bride but me.
“I think you look beautiful,” Evelina said sincerely, breaking me from my thoughts.
I smiled halfheartedly as Livia sighed at her lack of social awareness. She didn’t notice the tension between Jillian and Livia or my reservations about this marriage.
She didn’t need to worry. Neither she nor Livia did. I was entering this matrimony to make sure of that.
“Thanks, Evie.”
“Could we try something beige, maybe?”
“This isn’t a prom, Jillian. It’s a wedding,” Livia scoffed.
Jillian rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it matters . Does it matter to you, Aria?”
I looked through the mirror at all of them. Livia held her phone in front of her, scrolling absentmindedly through it. Evelina stared down at my dress, and Jillian sat with a ramrod-straight posture and crossed ankles as she looked me up and down with interest.
Nothing about this entire situation mattered to me.
“I’d be willing to try whatever you think will look best,” I replied with my most submissive tone.
It’s not like it’s my wedding anyway. I’m just a pawn in a much larger scheme.
She clapped her hands together. “Oh, wonderful. Dear, would you pick out a few dresses that are off-color? I think Aria would look wonderful in a dress with yellow undertones. Something warmer . These cool whites aren’t doing her any favors.”
The bridal attendant nodded and took off toward the racks.
“I think this wedding will do so much good,” Jillian continued, resting her hands in her lap with a sigh. “Enzo needs a woman at home to curb some of that energy he has. He’s always been tightly strung. After his parents’ deaths, he’s been having a difficult time. My husband has been allowing him to kill as an outlet, but I think he needs something else.”
“He needs a wife to take out all that anger on?” Livia asked with a pronounced eye roll.
Jillian scoffed. “No, of course not. But when they have their sexual needs met more regularly with a consistent woman, it—”
I forced myself to tune out the rest of her words as she continued.
Sexual needs.
To think that I would be responsible for a man like him. To take care of a man like that…
Nausea roiled in my throat, and I choked back the burning sensation. I didn't want to lose my virginity to a man who killed for pleasure.
A man who spent hours skinning a man alive.
A man walked into a room full of ten armed men and left them all dead and dismembered without batting an eye.
“Aria?” Livia’s voice brought me out of my stupor, and I blinked quickly, catching her questioning gaze.
She immediately understood what ran through my mind.
“Let me help you get this dress off,” she offered, pulling herself to her feet and approaching without hesitation.
Evelina didn’t move to stand. She didn’t seem to notice the clear turmoil in the room around her as she stared off into the long mirrors.
Livia pulled me into the changing room, and I immediately dropped onto the stool, burying my head in my hands.
“Listen, if you don’t want to do—”
“I have to do this,” I cut her off. “I don’t have a choice, Liv. Dad didn’t give me one.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t understand the severity. None of my sisters knew what had happened the night I had caught him killing one of our loyal people. He had made sure of it.
“Noemi got away. You can too.”
I shook my head as I thought about the sister who had always been my best friend. I knew she would escape one day, but she hadn’t really gotten away. She lived with Anton Petrov, the Russian adversary to both my father’s territory and the Rissi territory. He had always kept himself relatively separated from our businesses, but my father had pushed and pushed . He had tried for so long to take out Anton Petrov, and he had orchestrated the death of the man’s father.
Now, Anton Petrov was the Russian mob boss with a vendetta.
And he had my sister.
“You know that’s not true.”
“She’s written to us. She told us that she was okay. Instead of listening to our dad, maybe try listening to her. You saw the letters. They were all in her handwriting.”
God, I wanted to believe it. More than anything, I wanted to believe that our sister ran away and found love in the Russian mob boss—the only man who could possibly keep her safe from our father.
But Dad had insisted that Anton was keeping her captive.
I didn’t know what to believe, but Livia seemed more than confident.
“I’m not in Noemi’s position,” I told her, shaking my head. “If I do it, I don’t have someone to keep me safe if I run away. And he’ll find me. He has before, and he will again.”
I wanted to tell her the truth. It was lingering on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t push the words free.
He’ll take out his rage on you if he doesn't find me. He’ll use you to make me come back.
“I can help you.”
“No,” I replied vehemently. “No, I’m going to do this.”
Her brows crinkled, and she gritted her teeth. “I don’t know why you insist on making yourself suffer like this. He can’t force you into the marriage. He can’t chain you to the wedding bed.”
But he has and he knew it.
“I want to do this,” I lied. “If it will help us build relations, it will be worth it. Now, will you help me out of this?”
I could tell that Livia had so much left to say. She had never been good about keeping her mouth shut, even in the most important moments. But here, she conceded. Where Evelina lacked social awareness, Livia had a plethora of it. She knew the subject would get her nowhere, but I also knew she’d be watching.
She knew there was a reason I was being tied to this marriage.
It didn’t matter that she was just shy of eighteen.
Livia was too smart not to see there was more at play here.
She helped me get another dress pulled up my body and clipped in the back. The fabric hung loosely, and Livia tightened the clip. It was a matter of another moment before I strolled from the room and took in the floor-length gown in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
Jillian may have lacked eloquence when recommending the yellow undertone, but it did wonders to hide the pallor of my skin.
“Perfect,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I just knew we’d find something that better suited you.”
I nodded. “This is the one.”
I didn’t particularly care to try on more dresses. This was the first one that didn’t make me look sickly. I would have typically chosen a lower neckline and a tighter fit in a dress, but the modesty of this one felt more appropriate. I didn’t need to give Enzo a show of my body on our wedding day.
Not when he would see plenty that night.
The thought sent another burst of nausea crawling up my throat, and I coughed it back.
“So, Jillian. Why are you here instead of Enzo’s mother?” Livia asked in a clear attempt to get her attention off of me.
Jillian’s smile morphed into a bitter expression. “Why are you asking?”
Under different circumstances, I may have laughed as Livia’s expression shifted to one of excitement. Accomplishment. She had found something to upset Jillian, and knowing her, she would take full advantage.
“It’s unusual for an aunt to come in a mother’s place, that’s all.” Livia lifted her shoulders and leaned in to speak a little more quietly. I watched through the mirror as Jillian shifted away from my sister. “Unless there’s a reason. Who doesn’t love some juicy gossip?”
Jillian turned up her nose. “We don’t speak of Rebecca, and you’d all be wise never to bring her up. There are members of the family who have wounds much deeper than mine because of that disgrace.”
Interesting.
I tucked away that piece of information for later. Aunt Lia had been Enzo’s mother for all intents and purposes, but they had no biological relation. His mother had always been a mystery to us. One that Livia and I were both excited to uncover.
Rebecca .
“Your family is quite accustomed to betrayal, too, as I recall. What was her name? Noemi?”
I could hear the cunning in Jillian’s tone, and I turned up my nose as I whipped around.
“My sister isn’t a traitor.”
“From all accounts—”
“I don’t give a shit about your accounts. She’s not a traitor.”
And even if she was, more power to her. Getting out of this hellhole was worth it.
Jillian closed her mouth, looking offended by my outburst, almost identical to hers. We each had things we weren’t willing to discuss, so we skirted around the topics expertly.
As the afternoon continued, the conversation remained tense among everyone other than Evelina, who didn’t seem to notice the tension. I didn’t say much more as my mind whirled around the big question mark in the room.
Who was Rebecca, and why was she so hated by Jillian?
How could I use the information to get me out of Enzo’s clutches?