Chapter Three
“I can’t believe we never even thought to call,” Aria said.
She laid across her bed, twirling the cord of her phone, feeling like an old-fashioned schoolgirl, in an eighties romance movie.
Isabella chuckled. “I know, right. I’ve been wanting to call you for what feels like a lifetime, and today I thought, what the hell.”
They’d been on the phone for an hour already.
“I’m going to have to go soon and put the kids to bed.”
Aria could hear them in the background.
Her sister sighed. “And once they’re gone, I’ve got the whole house to myself, and I’m going to enjoy a nice, relaxing bath, maybe open a bottle of wine, read a good book, or listen to some music. I like books, I just … since being married, I don’t enjoy romance novels.”
“Why?”
“Can’t deal with the lies, Aria. I mean, the sex can be fine, you know, but it’s just sex, and then it can be … I don’t know. Marriage is not what I expected.”
“You think sex can be fine?” Aria asked. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about.
“Okay, sex by myself and a good book can be a lot of fun.”
Aria frowned. “I don’t see the big deal. I don’t like sex.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t. It’s … horrible.”
There was silence on the line. Aria hated the silence.
“Can we talk about something else?”
“I think you should tell me about how horrible you think sex is,” Isabella asked.
Aria felt her cheeks heating. “It’s … it’s painful, and there’s nothing to be enjoyed. You know how it is, and I don’t think it’s that good. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so tactless.”
Isabella laughed. “Oh, honey, it doesn’t have to be that way. Yes, sex with your husband might not be what you’re looking for, but have you ever read one of those books I gave you? There are different ways for a woman to get her enjoyment, and you don’t always need a man to give it to you.”
She was about to ask more questions but then there was a large bang on Isabella’s side. “I’ve got to go. Until next time.”
Before Aria had chance to say goodbye, the line died on her, which sucked.
She looked at her phone and then reached up and dropped it back into the cradle, before rolling over onto her back. Sex. She had stopped reading the romance novels since her wedding night.
Dante had not swept her off her feet. This was worse than an arranged marriage. There was nothing arranged about this. Dante had been blackmailed into marrying her. At least with an arranged marriage there was a small chance of them falling in love. She would never love Dante.
Since he had left this morning, she’d been trying to figure out where her father would keep evidence that had made professionals unable to locate it. She knew her father had more properties than the main family home. He’d been rewarded them by his own father.
Aria ran a hand down her face. He wouldn’t trust a safe deposit box, or any other means. Her father would keep it close to him, which had to mean at one of his offices, possibly in the safe, but it wouldn’t be one that was easily located. It would have to be in his bedroom.
Her parents didn’t share a bedroom, at least not in the time she’d been aware of her parents’ living situation. As a kid, she didn’t pay much attention to them.
Then, after watching movies and lots of TV shows, she started to ask questions, to which she’d often get told to shut up.
That had to be where he’d keep the information. She didn’t have a clue how she was going to get into her father’s room. Her stomach started to grumble. She had forgotten about dinner, and she had even allowed the staff to leave for a half day. She was given permission to do that.
In the large house, she was never alone. There were always soldiers lurking about, watching, keeping an eye. She was used to seeing guns and men ready to act. Growing up in similar circumstances made it easier to live with.
She stepped out of her bedroom, still putting on a robe. Soldiers were everywhere, and they would look away, but she valued her privacy and dignity. No one was ever going to accuse her of catching the eye of a soldier. She’d heard many tales, most of them gossip or rumors. However, in her world, when a woman went missing, with no body to be found, and rumors began to circulate, there was a chance it was the truth.
Aria couldn’t help but wonder what life was like for other people. The people who were not part of any mafia or family that had strict rules to follow. All her life, she’d constantly been told what to do. Over the years, she found herself watching strangers, seeing the way they walked and how they were with one another.
There were wives who would stand by their husband’s side without a single care in the world. Laughing, happy, excited about their life. She knew it happened in her own world, but they were so fleeting, it always seemed to be gone in a blink of an eye.
She stepped into the kitchen. The main light was off, but there were several beneath the cupboards on the wall that gave the kitchen a soft glow. Some might even consider it romantic.
Walking toward the sink, she reached into the cupboard on the left and grabbed a small glass. At first, she was tempted by a mug of hot chocolate, but now, all she wanted to do was have some water and go to bed. It was getting late.
She had no idea when Dante was going to be home, and she’d rather avoid any more confrontation with him. In the next few weeks, she needed to come up with a plan. One that meant she went back to her family home and then found some way to sneak into her father’s bedroom.
The only way she was going to do that was if she took Isabella with her. Her sister would be the one who’d invite her back home. Her family didn’t need her now, and as far as they were concerned, she had no choice but to do her duty. She just couldn’t tell her sister what she hoped to achieve. The less people who knew about her plot, the better.
Finishing off the water, she cleaned the glass, dried it, and then put it back in place. Once she was done, she spun around and nearly had a heart attack. She had no idea Dante was even home, or that he’d entered the kitchen.
“Dante,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”
“That was not my intention.”
Her heart was racing. She hoped she’d not spoken aloud about any part of her plan.
“I don’t imagine it was.” She was not going to freak out. Laughing, she couldn’t help but look toward the doorway right behind him and hope for a chance to escape. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk.
They stood, opposite sides of the kitchen. She was still near the sink, Dante in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing a jacket anymore. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and he looked angry.
Aria didn’t know what had set off his anger, and she wasn’t interested in learning either. Dante, other than to do his duty, hadn’t laid a finger on her, and she wanted to keep it that way. Other women were not quite so lucky. Black eyes, lots of makeup, and of course lie s— that was what she was used to hearing from them.
The silence between them was starting to make her uncomfortable. She wanted it to be over.
“I was just getting a glass of water. I’m about to go to bed,” she said.
Move. Try not to draw his attention.
Not for a single second did she think she had the power to draw his attention, but she didn’t want to have to perform more of her duties.
Go.
Dante wasn’t saying anything, but he was staring at her. She had no choice but to attempt her escape.
She moved toward him, and was just about to glide past him when he suddenly reached out, grasping her arm, and before she knew what was happening, she was pressed up against the wall. Panic swelled up inside her. What had happened? Had she done something wrong?
She heard the cruelties of people at parties saying that he would probably beat her because she wasn’t anywhere in his league. Fear traveled down her spine, and it had no thought, no care, no consideration.
She stared at him, waiting, wondering.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Dante said.
“I don’t?”
“No, you don’t. I just want to try something. Trust me.”
Aria didn’t trust him. His reputation far exceeded him, but there was nowhere else for her to go. She felt the panic, but then Dante surprised her. The only time they had kissed was on their wedding day straight after the priest had told them the I do’s. The kiss at the altar had been chaste. To any onlooker, they couldn’t have mistaken that neither person wanted to be there.
She’d been terrified. Since then, they had not kissed.
They hadn’t even had a honeymoon, or done anything together, other than their duty. She struggled to think of it as sex … it was duty. Sex was something different to her, intimate.
All thought fled her mind as Dante’s lips took possession of her own. She expected him to be somewhat cruel, unyielding, refusing to give up and just taking. This kiss was so many different things, and yet, all of them together.
Dante’s hands went to the wall on either side of her head. At first, it was only their lips touching, and Aria couldn’t deny that it felt nice.
Slowly, his body pressed against hers, they were flush together, and something changed within her. At first, she thought she was going to panic, but then suddenly, that all evaporated, and she felt the length of his body against hers. It was nice. Strange.
And all too soon, the kiss had come to an end.
Dante pulled away, and she stared up into his brown eyes. They had the same eye color, but her husband’s eyes were slightly darker, more intense, at least to her.
She knew it was the perfect time to make her escape, and she did, running right back to her bedroom.
****
Dante hadn’t meant to listen in on Aria’s phone call. It had been the last thing on his mind to even consider. But, he couldn’t help being curious about who she was talking to. He should have known it would be her sister. After listening for about a minute, he had every intention of disconnecting his line, and allowing her to have privacy.
Then the conversation of sex came up, and he listened. He’d never been considered a bad man in the sack. There were a lot of women who would kill for a chance or two to be with him.
He wasn’t used to this feeling.
Dante knew he had gone out of his way to make Aria’s first experience miserable. Her virginity had gotten in the way. It was going to be painful that first time. Since then, he’d not once tried to do anything to please her. Other than coming to perform his duty, he didn’t do anything. His instructions were always the same. To be bent over the bed, no underwear, and nothing to get in his way.
Aria didn’t know how good sex could be, and she didn’t want to know.
Dante’s lips tingled as he thought about that kiss he’d taken just a few hours ago. Rolling over, he looked at the clock and saw it was a little after two in the morning. Sleep was not coming, and he knew it was because he didn’t like this. He’d never doubted himself before and he was used to women trying to gain his attention.
When it came to his wife, he’d done absolutely nothing to help her enjoy sex.
It’s not your job to do this.
You hate her.
Aria’s the enemy.
And that pesky side of his brain reminded him that Aria didn’t have a clue what her father attempted to organize. She was told who she was going to marry. Like him, she didn’t have a say in any of it.
Shoving his blankets off, because now he was pissed, he was going to head downstairs to his office and have a stiff drink. Something strong, like his best aged whiskey. He did have every intention of going downstairs, but then found himself stepping across the stairwell, and within minutes, he was outside of Aria’s bedroom door.
This was the one she chose. He told her when he brought her home, to just pick a place, and to leave him the fuck alone. He didn’t even know if she had chosen this room on purpose. It was furthest from his own bedroom.
Go back to bed.
Open the freaking door.
Dante gripped the door handle, twisting it. He’d done this plenty of times in the past eight months, and by plenty, at least eight times. Every time she was supposed to be at the prime of getting pregnant.
He’d gotten used to having to use lubricant to make her wet. Aria had never been turned on by him. Like him, she’d been doing her duty, and she had done so without a single complaint.
She had proven time and time again to be a good wife. Without argument, she was ready for the parties he told her they were attending. She always stood in the corner of the room. Vile whispers traveled and he heard what people said about them, and he didn’t care. He was more than happy to allow people to dig their own graves. If anyone said anything to him directly, their punishment would be swift.
To help torture her and make her life miserable, he pretended he couldn’t hear them. He wanted her to live in hell. But now he didn’t know why.
He walked into Aria’s room, closing the door behind him, and looked toward the bed. There was a small night-light on that cast a soft glow in her bedroom and made it possible for him to see Aria. She looked so small, so fragile.
He wanted to close the gap between them and wake her up, so he could rid himself of these feelings. Dante moved toward the bed, intent on forcing her to wake, to say something, to remind him that she was Phillip Lewis’s daughter, who had trapped him in this situation.
He’d never seen her sleep. Closing the distance toward the bed, he couldn’t help but look down, and her face was … relaxed. At peace. This, he wasn’t expecting. Aria often possessed a furrow between her brows. She always had a frown on her face. Troubled thoughts.
Staring at her now, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was dreaming about him. He reached out as if to wake her, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. With the glow of the light, Dante looked at her.
Aria hadn’t wanted this either. She didn’t ask to be married to him. No one had offered her hand in marriage. She was a lot older than most brides.
He couldn’t bring himself to move.
She looked … pretty.
He knew a lot of people considered Aria a plain beauty. Her brown hair not exactly the prized blonde of her sister. Now, as he looked at her without any anger or hatred, Aria held a softness about her, a different kind of beauty. He suddenly wanted to see her brown eyes, but he wasn’t going to wake her. There would be time for him to look into her eyes.
In the corner of her bedroom, he saw a chair, and he knew he shouldn’t stay. He lowered himself into the chair and watched her sleep. The minutes ticked on and he had every intention of leaving her to her peace. Only, he felt the heaviness of sleep suddenly weighing him down, and he didn’t want to leave her bedroom.
Eyes closed, he started to drift off to sleep.