Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Katya
It doesn’t take long before it becomes official. Chloe was right.
Dante Moretti sent out invitations yesterday for a meeting of potential matches for his son Leon.
Not only was she selected as a possible candidate, but so was I.
The news came from my mother this time, rather than my friend.
Dante reached out to my stepfather directly, as he’s the head of my family—and the head of the organization I’m affiliated with.
There was no contact made to me personally, since it would be considered wildly inappropriate, and even insulting to Linus.
I didn’t know how to respond to my mother, even when she assured me that I wouldn’t be pressured by her or my stepdad into going. But they didn’t need to put pressure on me to go, someone else would take on that role with ease.
Chloe is ecstatic when she finds out, of course.
She’s thrilled that she didn’t have to find a way to wiggle me into the Moretti territory in order to be her support person.
As far as she’s concerned, it’s the best thing to ever happen to either of us.
She doesn’t think twice about how things will go from there on out and begins dragging me around town with her everywhere.
We spend countless hours together while she picks out our clothes for the trip and gabs on for hours about how she’ll style her hair and do her makeup.
All the while, my head continues to spin.
I’m not given a moment’s rest to consider how I feel about being selected as a potential wife for a man I’ve never met.
The choice hit me out of the blue, and Chloe doesn’t give me an opportunity to voice my confusion.
She’s too happy about the situation for me to dim her light with my questions and expressions of doubt.
What made them choose us?
Why me?
How did this happen?
Don’t you have any hesitation?
My mother assured me that Chloe and I were partially selected due to our family connections, and partially due to our age and intellect.
We both speak Italian, which is one of the clear requirements Dante made when conducting his search, apparently.
Although Chloe isn’t quite fluent, she can hold a conversation in the language, and knows enough to get herself around the European country easily enough.
Chloe took up Italian as a way to navigate Milan Fashion Week more easily, and to get to know the models she befriended, while I learned to make myself more useful to Linus.
I perfected my speech, vocabulary, and grammar so that I never make the man who loves my mother so gently look bad in front of others.
I’ve always had a knack for languages, and I was happy to do anything I could to repay my stepfather for his kindness.
Although we automatically met the language requirement, we also needed to pass a health examination by an unbiased doctor.
That process was the only thing that made Chloe huff and puff.
She hates going to the doctor, especially to get blood work.
But when I reminded her that he’s probably just worried about losing a wife again so soon, she became less sour about it.
“There’s still time to ditch her and go by yourself, you know?”
I startle at the sound of Ares’ drawl, whipping my head around to find him staring down at me.
He leans casually against the brick that lines my window’s interior, looking far too comfortable to be standing on a slanted bit of the roof.
My little flat ledge where I come to sit and clear my head while looking up at the sky is safe enough, but he doesn’t come closer to put his feet on even ground.
“What?” I ask sharply, thinking I must have misheard him.
My stepbrother chuckles darkly, pulling a silver cigarette case from his jean pocket and grabbing himself a stick to light.
He doesn’t hurry to respond, the sound of his lighter clicking open and a hissing noise of the flame being born filling the quiet night air before he takes a long pull of the smoke.
Once he’s exhaled a large gray cloud, he tilts his head at me appraisingly.
“I said, it’s not too late to ditch your inconsiderate, self-centered friend and go to the meeting by yourself.”
A frown tugs on my lips and I shake my head. “I don’t understand why you’re so rude to her, Ares. She’s just excited.”
“Excited,” he echoes with a snort. “She’s delusional, Katya. I know you see it too. She’s consumed by the idea of being chosen for something she doesn’t even want just so she can feel like she’s won. She’d hate the life she’s fighting for, and Leon is going to see right through her.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I reply with a long sigh. “She’s my best friend, and she needs my support.”
“No, she’s your only friend, and she’s trying to take advantage of you.
She didn’t even ask if you were interested in Leon, or consider the fact that he may be interested in you.
Your best friend doesn’t consider you to be a competitor in what’s very clearly a competition. Doesn’t that piss you off?”
Gaping at him, I try to digest his bitter words.
“You’re a gorgeous, smart, and kind person, and she still only sees you as someone who should be helping lift her up.
She doesn’t think of you as your own being, Katya.
And one day, it’s going to become painfully clear to you.
” One day soon, he doesn’t say, but I can see the implication on his face.
“I’m sorry, my brain glitched when the word gorgeous came out of your mouth.”
His eyes roll and he takes another hit of his cig.
“I’d rather set my dick on fire than look at you that way, don’t worry.
We share a sibling for fuck’s sake, so I assure you, my assessment is purely pragmatic.
You’re blonde and fit with a nice smile, pretty eyes, and clear skin.
Your features are symmetric and you dress and smell nicely.
There’s no argument to be made in which you’re not a woman men would go after.
My point is, shouldn’t your ‘best friend’ also realize that? Why doesn’t she see you that way?”
“Maybe she does,” I counter, swallowing a bitter taste in my mouth. “Maybe she just trusts me to be there for her, and to support her in getting something she wants.”
“And what about what you want?” he counters, lifting a brow. “Has she even asked? When’s the last time the two of you spoke about your future instead of hers? Does she even know that you want to be a mom? That you have a list of baby names in your phone that’s ten miles long? Does she know?”
“You’ve been in my phone?” I sputter, outraged and flushing with embarrassment.
“Your password is so uncreative, Katya,” he replies, sounding disappointed and stern. “Gaia’s birthday, really? You’re better than that.”
“I can’t believe you—”
“Yes you can,” Ares cuts me off. “Because you know me. I cross boundaries, egg people on, and invade my friends and family’s comfortable spaces.
You know me, because you know the people you care about.
And you care about me because I’m your family.
You’re good like that. Tell me, how well does Chloe know you? ”
“You’re just trying to drive a wedge between us.” I frown, looking away from him. “You like playing with people. Nothing amuses you more, and I don’t want to play your game today. I’m tired, okay?”
He hums, considering. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, sis.”
When I turn around to reply, he’s already gone, disappearing back through my bedroom window and cloaking me in silence as he goes.
My stomach twists as his words dance around in the back of my mind.
Discomfort settles in, and I can’t seem to shake it off.
My mood has been shaken, and I know there isn’t anything I can do to fix it.
Even the sky doesn’t seem like good company anymore.
The days of planning for the meeting have officially come to an end as the sun sets, and I know that I need to go to bed.
Tomorrow we fly out to Moretti territory together, and everything comes to a head.
I can’t decide whether or not I’m nervous, anxious, or mournful for the trip.
One thing is for certain though, I have a sinking feeling that something is going to go wrong.
After getting ready for bed, I do exactly what I shouldn’t do.
I open my laptop and start searching. Leon Moretti doesn’t have a large social media presence in a sense that he doesn’t post often.
His sisters do, though. Both Jade Moretti and Ana Moretti post a ton of family photos, some of which include him.
His dirty blonde hair is always perfectly styled in that messy not messy sort of way, and it’s short enough to look professional and expensive rather than lazy on him.
He’s tall and obviously strong, his jawline and cheekbones framing his undeniably handsome face quite well.
But there’s something else to him. Something almost… sad.
His eyes, I think. They’re crystal blue like almost all of his family’s are, but they’re not bright and wide like Jade’s, or as steely and striking as Apollo’s.
They’re downcast and woven with a sort of lost quality.
None of the photos seem to be taken after his wife’s death, but perhaps he was mourning her long before anyone knew she would be leaving this Earth.
Eyes can tell you a lot about someone. Not necessarily the color, of course. But the way they gaze and the emotions they hold. Some people say that eyes are the windows into the soul, and part of me wishes it weren’t true.
If Leon’s soul is sad, I don’t know if finding a new wife can fix that for him.
I don’t know if Chloe can fix that for him.
The uncomfortable thought has me shutting my laptop fast and storing it away in my bedside drawer.
I can’t let Ares’ words get to me, and I can’t think about my friend that way.
She’s a good person, and I’m sure she has every intention of trying to be a good wife, even if her motivations for this match aren’t purely innocent.
Made men marry for selfish reasons all the time. I can’t fault her for wanting to marry into a wealthy, safe family. Anyone would want that.
Including me.