Chapter Fourteen
Aria Bianchi
I opened the totes of belongings my father had shipped here as Jaimie sorted through each item with an assessing gaze. She told me she was there to help me unpack, but I could see in her eyes that there was more to it than that.
She needed to ensure Alonzo Bianchi didn’t send something heinous.
But she wouldn’t find it.
Alongside all of the skincare and hygiene products that he’d discarded into one large tote carelessly, he had included an additional fluid inside a nail polish bottle—one that he told me to dilute in Giovanni’s beverage.
I sorted through my polishes, finding some of Livia’s favorite colors missing. I wanted to laugh at the situation, but the poison sitting only two bottles away had my chuckle fading. Not even Livia pilfering her favorites out of my things could dull the realization of what I would be forced to do.
Enzo walked into the room and looked around at the piles of things spread everywhere.
“We have afternoon plans.”
“You and Jaimie?” I asked as I pulled another dress from my clothes and rested it in the short pile. I cringed at it, remembering the words my father had spoken every time I wore a square neckline.
I wasn’t thin enough to pull it off.
It made me look like I didn’t belong in the company of powerful people.
Then, I glanced at the business casual attire and remembered his heinous words about all of that too.
“I need new clothes,” I finally said. I glanced up and realized that Enzo must have said something because Enzo and Jaimie both looked at me with their heads tilted to the side. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?”
Jaimie crossed her arms.
Enzo stared right at me and I saw the predatory gleam behind his eyes—one that reminded me of the last time he looked at me with that expression. My stomach tightened at the thought of our long evening a few nights ago.
“Tell me why you need new clothes.”
I couldn’t tell him that. Hell, I felt foolish even considering the absurdity of the reason. I knew that my father’s words shouldn’t have meant everything, but I didn’t want to think of him every time I got dressed. Since I had come here, it had been so easy to forget him and my past, if only for a few hours every day.
“I need a change.”
Enzo’s eyes narrowed, and I looked away, down at a pair of shorts that my father had called “too slutty.” I couldn’t live with his voice in my mind forever.
And Enzo saw it.
“I’ll get you new clothes after we meet with my uncle.”
* * * *
I spun the half-full nail polish bottle in my pocket as Giovanni and Enzo stood across the room, talking to one another. I couldn’t place the words—not with the sinking pit in my stomach that told me I had to do this. What meant more to me? Evelina’s safety or a near stranger’s life?
The answer was clear, but my conscience couldn’t take it.
“Dear, you’re part of the family, same as Enzo now. Come and join us. I had a few things I wanted to discuss with you after our conversation the other night?”
I gave a wary smile and approached the drink bar where Enzo rested a hand. He glanced over my shoulder and gave me a look that translated into a silent question. He could see that something was tearing at me, but he wouldn’t ask. Not right now.
I needed to tell him something, but…
He would know. When his uncle dropped dead, he would be able to put the pieces together, and it would destroy him. His mother had betrayed his father just as I was about to betray him. The only redeeming factor was that he didn’t love me. Not the way he said his father had loved his mother.
“What do you want to talk about?”
He took a long swig of a dark liquor before swirling the last sip in the glass and nodding in approval. “How much do you know about Brandy?”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. “I know of a few different brands, but my knowledge is limited.”
“I know a good attorney when I walk into their office and see a pricey Brandy on a cocktail table,” he said, running a hand over one of his crystal bottles that read: “Hine Antique.”
The amber bottle looked old, and the half-drained contents told me it was one of his favorites. But it wasn’t the favorite.
“This one is one of the best Cognacs in the world. It is my personal preference with the spicy cinnamon undertone.”
I nodded and leaned into the table slightly as I inspected his lineup. “It’s not your favorite, though.”
His eyes danced with amusement. “Why don’t you pour me a glass of the one you think is my favorite, and if it’s the right one, you can have it.”
My eyes drifted to a decorative bottle that hadn’t been opened, but the scratches on the table indicated that the liquor in this spot had been moved and likely replaced the most often. On the neck of the bottle sat a label that read Louis XIII Remy Martin.
“I don’t drink Brandy,” I told him, meeting his eyes again.
“But you’re going to be an attorney, so you need to build your collection.”
He walked away as if his words hadn’t been like a cold glass of water shoved in my face.
“I never took the bar exam,” I told him, but he only gave me a small smile over his shoulder as he moved toward his desk.
This was the opportunity I needed. I knew it was, and it sickened me as Enzo turned his back on me too, following his uncle across the room as if he already knew what was to come in this conversation.
I untwisted the cap in my pocket and poured the fluid into an empty glass without giving myself a second thought. I watched the clear liquid slosh around the bottom of the glass as I blocked the sight of it with my hand and reached for the bottle I had already analyzed. The glass pear-shaped jar held a smooth, amber liquid that poured like a dream.
I turned toward where Giovanni stood, arms crossed.
“Do you want to take the bar exam, Aria?”
“I… I don’t know.”
His mouth turned hard, and for the first time, he didn’t look like a kind and caring old man. That look revealed the man behind all this wealth and power. The boss of the Italian mafia. The rightful capo dei capi.
“You are no longer with your family, and we have no problem funding and supporting a woman in ours. If you are no longer interested in law, that’s fine. But if you want to practice, I will arrange for you to have a seat in the bar exam whenever you are ready.”
“What’s in it for you?” I found myself asking, twisting the glass in my hand.
He tipped his head back, and even Enzo chuckled.
“My nephew’s wife doing what she has worked hard for. And an ally in the world of legalities. I have seen the quick wit in your eyes, Aria. People are like books. The gist of what’s inside can always be found on the covers. Maybe not all the details, but the general story. I can see that you’d make a good attorney, and I need one of those working for me. I need one who knows all about my businesses.”
A sense of excitement filled me. I had never been acknowledged, praised, or seen by anyone in my life. Only Enzo had spoken kind words to me like this.
Giovanni didn’t deserve my father’s wrath.
Giovanni deserved to be in charge of everyone.
“But let me see the Brandy you’ve chosen for me. I have a feeling your observation skills are going to be as impressive as expected.”
This wasn’t just a fun game. It was a test. Giovanni wanted to see if I could read people and situations as well as an attorney should. He had intentionally misled me to believe the other Brandy was his favorite, and he had replaced the bottle of his true favorite.
But I saw the truth.
He knew I did.
I extended the glass toward him, and as his fingers brushed it, I released it quickly.
The crystal fell to the floor, and the amber liquid spilled all over the desk between us. The poison did too.
I hadn’t thought about my decision before making it, but as my father’s plan spilled out in front of me, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. This was wrong. Killing Giovanni was wrong , and I couldn’t do it.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled as blood rushed through my ears.
He said that it wasn’t important, not realizing he was wrong. This may have been the most important decision I had ever made.
“Which one did you choose?” he asked.
“Louis XIII Remy Martin.”
His grin widened. “I knew it.”
He didn’t know anything.