31. Ara
Instead of taking photos from afar, I step out of the cab and walk up to Balmere club with my chin held high. I haven’t slept in days, and I hide the obvious black bags under my eyes with heavy makeup and a light brunette wig.
I walk straight past the line up to the head of security at the entrance who is quick to put his hand out to stop me.
“Excuse me, little miss, but you can’t just walk straight in.”
“Tell Luca Armani that Arabella Barone’s here to see him.” In response to his twisted expression, I add, “Let me assure you, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
He hesitates but quickly says something into his earpiece.
Numerous other speculations and articles have come out over the week about my relationship with Luca. I purposefully changed my appearance into tight black leather and alternative hair to evade any other photos being taken. Or at least them identifying as me.
It took me a few days to overcome the shock of Luca’s body parts gift. Since, I’d seen missing persons announcements and articles for both of them, but it made it on very few media outlets. Most likely because of Luca’s influence, especially with the law enforcement he no doubt has in his pocket.
It’s Friday night, and I know he most likely has business going on. Which means he’s here. I’ve considered playing his games, but the closer I get to Luca, the more I realize he’s on a totally different playing field. The trickling time I have left reminds me one mistake will cost me everything. There’s not enough time to fight it—except for head on. I have to embrace this. Him.
The security guard seems surprised by the response but opens the door for me anyway. “He said he will meet you at the bar shortly.”
I walk past him with my head held high as if I own the place. Luca knows I need something from him. That’s what tangled me in his web in the first place. He’s toying with me. I wonder how close he’ll let me get, what boundaries he’s willing to let me step over because of his own blinded curiosity. Unless, of course, he needs something from me in return, and the only person I can think he needs that from is my father.
Exotic dancers are naked in cages. Men watch me as I sashay through the room, and it offers me slight satisfaction. Because I wasn’t here for any of their entertainment. I was going straight to the top.
When I reach the bar and take a seat, I recognize the bartender immediately. I’m confused. She looks like the matchmaker, Elanee Lane my father set me up with.
“Elanee?” I say, surprised, but then I remember I’m not Ara Barone here.
She offers a tight smile instead. “You must be talking about my twin sister. I’m Layla. We don’t talk about that here.” She gives me a wink, and when she says it, I notice the slight difference in appearance. Layla seems a little rounder in the face, and her hair is shorter and slightly darker. “What can I get you?”
“She’ll have your strongest cocktail. On me,” a man says as he takes the seat beside me.
A chill runs down me as Luca’s voice interrupts before I can even reply to the stranger.
“I highly recommend you find yourself elsewhere before I shoot you where you stand.”
The man pales as he trips over himself to get away from the seat he was just about to take. Luca takes the spot instead and leans against the bar counter with an arrogant grin.
“You didn’t have to scare him like that.”
“I thought you’d be grateful I’m in a good mood tonight and didn’t kill him.” He’s wearing his usual black suit and dress shirt. “You came running sooner than I expected.”
“I’ve come to fess up. I don’t want to marry the man my father chooses for me. So whether you’re an ally or not, I figure I can’t fight you anymore.”
I considered how I’d confront Luca and the easiest way, with most men, is to feed into their egos and to ever so slightly play the damsel in distress.
“I’m more than just an ally, Ara,” he scrutinizes. I can tell he’s suspicious because Luca is not an ordinary man. I hope his curiosity feeds into some of the story I feed him. Layla places two drinks in front of us. Whisky for him and a cosmopolitan for myself. It’s shocking because it’s my favorite cocktail but I suppose he already knows that. “Come. I have something to show you. We’ll talk afterward.”
Layla watches me carefully as Luca leads me away from the busy evening into the clearly off-limits section and past his office. It’s daunting as he escorts me and I find the silence insufferable. I’m scattered in my thoughts as I try to piece all the parts of Luca together. He ominously leads me to stairs and toward a part of the club I’d never explored before.
“I thought you would have meetings tonight,” I ask trying to break the tension.
He doesn’t look over his shoulder as he answers, still guiding me directly ahead. “It would appear you’re not the only one changing your routine. Besides tonight is a special event.”
“Event?” I ask and a chill runs down my spine as Lorenzo waits for us at the top of the staircase. I hear screaming and cheering below. I can’t help but think I’ve walked into the devils lair. Maybe he really is going to kill me this time.
He finally turns to look at me, offering his hand. “My fight ring, of course. I think you’ll be impressed by the competitors tonight.”
“You do realize violence doesn’t usually impress a woman, right?”
I’m reminded of his gory violence and memorable present. Because although I’m not impressed by it, Luca looks at bloodshed like an artist does their canvas.
A devilish grin spreads across his face. Too beautiful. Too sinful. “You’re not an ordinary woman, Ara. You’re my woman. And, you’ll come to love it.”
I can’t decide whether he’s implying I’ll come to enjoy the violence or him. The two seem to go hand in hand. This was the dance he set up for us, so I accept his hand as I daringly say, “I will never enjoy violence like you do Luca.”
With a smug smile, Luca raises my hand to his lips and presses a hot kiss on it. The action is so, opposite to his usual behavior that I’m taken aback. “Then you will have to keep me entertained in other ways, sweetheart.”
Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow only slightly before he regains his composure. Luca pushes past him and leads me downstairs. The shouting becomes louder, and the first thing that grabs my attention is the boxing ring in the center of the room where two men are circling each other.
It looks like an underground arena that’s entirely full. Some members sit on the chairs circling the room and watch intently. It’s so dark in here that faces are barely recognizable. The moment my gaze lands on a white mask, my body freezes.
It’s the same white mask I saw the night my mother was killed.
The man behind the white mask, who had piercing dark, almost black eyes as he toyed with the tip of the blade against my cheek, promised I’d be next.
There are two here. No. There’s four of them circling the room.
I know of the masked men who are referred to as the hounds. However, I haven’t seen one since my home was targeted. My father told me it was a random break-in. He was away for business as per usual but the cruel calculation was too perfectly executed. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to wake early and stumble across him crouched over my mother’s body. That very encounter led me to the here and now.
I expected to cross paths with them while with Luca but it doesn’t take away the fear that immediately arises as my twelve-year-old self momentarily comes to the surface.
I’m frozen back in time, in terror of the monster that’s coming towards me with a white mask.
I’m next.
“Ara?” Luca is watching me intently. My every movement and breath analyzed.
I push away the fear, pissed by its resurfacing and take hold of the role I have to play tonight.
“They’re so violent,” I say, directing my gaze back to the ring.
The smaller fighter is being pummeled. The bulkier man with scars over his body and face is roaring in premature victory.
Luca guides me to a vacant seat, more like a throne that has central unblocked views of the ring. He takes a seat and doesn’t even hesitate as he pulls me into his lap. The surrounding men and very few women take barely any notice of us because they’re so engrossed by what’s happening in the ring.
I push down the vile reminder of the hand and foot he only sent me days before as he strokes his thumb over my knee, leans in and whispers. “I prefer your natural hair. Role play doesn’t do too much for me, by the way.”
“I have to go to these lengths so my father doesn’t find out about us meeting. Or I really will be married by next week.”
I could easily run away from my father’s expectation and pressures to marry someone of his choosing. However, then I’d lose everything I’d worked so hard for. I need to remain close to my father while he’s still completely unsuspecting I’m using him and his business to remain in New York.
His grip bruises my leg. “He can try. If you’d like I can kill your father? Just ask and it’ll be done.”
My heart skips a beat by the ease in which he says it like a promise. Because I know Luca would do it without a doubt. “Despite all my father’s faults, I don’t want you killing him, Luca.”
He casually shrugs. “You want to keep us a secret, and I’m hellbent on telling the world.”
“Us?” I croak out.
The bigger fighter uppercuts the smaller one who drops to the ground unconscious. The room goes wild and cheers.
“There is no escaping, Ara. I’ve made that very clear from the start.”
I’m surprised. Does he actually think the gifts, stalking, and overzealous behavior is seductive? Granted, I’ve fallen for it numerous times but surely I’m not that far gone or depraved. I remind myself I’m here for a reason, none of which is based on any form of relationship with Luca, despite what he might tell himself.
“Now for the fight you’ve all been waiting for!” an announcer declares. “Our house champion vs. the self-nominated playboy.”
The crowd begins to boo and divide. It’s not until he’s closer to the ring and I recognize the person and my jaw drops. I go to stand but Luca’s firm grip pins me in place in his lap.
“He’s going to die in there,” I desperately say to Luca.
“Would you believe he actually ratted you out, and this was part of his terms. He wanted to fight.”
Goose bumps erupt over my body, and I feel like I’m going to break out into a sweat. Fuck, what did Dmitri tell him? Did he really betray me? Whatever it was, Luca has sat on this information all week, simply waiting until I came and found him myself, which was even more terrifying.
“Dmitri was the one kind enough to tell me about your history and former hits. How do you think I got their names, Ara?” His tone is provoking. “He also told me you tried to hack into his database to gain information about me. Have you found what you’re looking for yet, sweetheart?” I feel the threat and search the room. No one is watching us. Their eyes are glued to the ring as people make their bets.
What else does he know?
“How unusual for you to be so quiet.” He smirks, and in the dark room, his blue eyes glare at me as a cruel reality sinks in. Was he waiting for me to come to him like this so he could finally be done with me? I look back to the men in the masks. A cruel reminder of fate resurfacing.
I steady my heartbeat. Luca hasn’t mentioned the reason why. So maybe Dmitri didn’t tell him? Or maybe he did, and this is yet again another game.
Dmitri steps into the ring, and Luca leans forward, interested. “Now, let’s see what the outcast Bratva prince can do.”