10. Aria
Chapter ten
Aria
I hardly slept a wink last night. I’ve been up trying to get something about Mario’s death. But it’s all the same. The news articles described Mario’s death as if he was a victim of a random mugging; however, Dad said he found his way to get information—by asking questions—and said Mario’s wallet was untouched, which means the killing was intentional.
The only person Dad suspects to have killed him is Pascal Washington, the corrupt state senator representing New York. And the only reason he’d want to kill my brother is because Mario had something on him—perhaps one of his secrets—but what?
I can’t access the damn case file. It’s not on the public docket; it’s sealed. I can’t also request for it to be unsealed because since it’s sealed in the first place, a higher authority is at play. It’s why it was inaccessible to even Dad five years ago.
I know I’ll definitely be denied the request to unseal, I’ll be exposed, and that will keep them one step ahead of me, but if I secretly try, then they won’t see me coming.
A tear slips past my eyes as I recall the dreary night when Dad spilled the information. I was seventeen and wanted to study law, and my brother’s death solidified my resolve. There, on the floor, knees curled to my chest and eyes swollen from tears, I made a promise to myself: To catch the bastard who murdered my brother.
Sniffling, I wipe the tear from my eye and bring myself to the present. Indeed, Mario was an investigative journalist, just like Mia, my best friend, but no one knew what he was working on. He didn’t tell anyone, and even after searching his room a billion times, I still don’t know what he had on Pascal.
All my findings have led nowhere... yet again. I shut the lid of my laptop and recline in my chair. Suddenly, a low and haughty voice fills my head, haunting me.
“Spend the night with me…”
A scoff escapes my lips, and I sit up, my mood taking another turn. How dare he! The sheer audacity of it made me want to yell in agony.
It wasn’t even a plea or suggestion, it was a demand. A declaration that pointed to the fact that he thinks he owns me. I’m supposed to be his fiancée, not his puppet!
But this isn’t the time to get distracted by Elio Donatelli.
I push my chair away from my desk, the legs of the chair scraping against the tiled floor as I puff out a frustrated breath. My coffee has long gone cold since it has remained untouched from when I brewed it.
Not like it would have helped or made a difference, not even coffee can improve how I feel today.
It’s infuriating how much space this guy has taken up in my mind within our short period of contact. Of all the things I know about this man, he is specifically dangerous, manipulative, and unrelenting.
And all these features are cautiously tucked away underneath a carefully composed aura.
He’s the kind of man who doesn’t need to raise his voice to command a room. His stance alone does that, and that is more terrifying than anything else.
“I can never lose my virginity to a man like Elio,” the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. I meditate on them for a little while, turning them over and over in my mind, then reaffirming them.
My mind betrays me as it takes me back to that night in his car when he slid his hands dangerously under my panties, circling my damp clit until it became completely flushed with moisture.
“God...I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whisper. I touch a finger to my lips, which he had suckled on mercilessly, pulling me with him into an endless depth of passion. “I don’t know why I don’t want this man around me, yet I cannot help it when he begins to circle my nipples with his torturous fingers.” I continue talking to myself.
My hand reaches subconsciously for my phone. I want to take a social media break…anything to get my mind off all this.
But nope, my chin plops on my hand as a soft gasp escapes from my lips, and I continue the conversation with myself. “What’s worse is that I actually feel safe when those hefty arms of his are around me, like no harm can befall me just because he’s there. And I can’t even tell why his voice makes me tremble. This is so damn frustrating.”
Footsteps approaching from down the hallway turn my attention to check if anyone around can hear me. I release a sigh of relief when I see that there’s no one around to listen.
“I just don’t know what it would be like to reach orgasm when Elio is inside of me. And with that size of him! I can only imagine the sheer pleasure it would elicit, something I’ve never felt with any man...”
Suddenly, laughter ?coming from my phone? stops the words from spilling further from my mouth. I instinctively grab my phone and notice a call is active. And the name on the caller ID makes me gasp in disbelief. Fuck! It’s Elio. Quickly, I disconnect the call and cover my mouth in shock, overwhelmed by the unexpected contact.
Ugh! I am so furious at myself.
Aria Abruzzi, what a fuck up! Get your shit together!
Two raps at my office door cause me to clear my throat and adjust my blue-light-blocking glasses on my nose. It’s Joan, the intern supervisor.
“Hey, intern.” Her blonde hair is packed into a high ponytail and there is a small smile on her pretty, pink lips.
“The name’s Aria.” I know she knows, but where is the fun if I don’t always remind her? She chuckles as she walks into my office.
“Just thought I’d come in and see how you’re doing.”
Joan is one sweet person who I like to think of as an angel sent specifically from my mom to me.
“I’m good, thank you.”
She sweeps her gaze over my disarranged desk and clucks her tongue disapprovingly.
“No, you’re not. Your table is disorganized for the first time in forever, and you didn’t even touch your coffee.”
I give her a wavering smile, then lean back into my chair. There’s no point lying now. She already has me.
“I’m just having a little… problem.”
“You poor thing.” She walks over to caress my cheek, “It’s your dad, isn’t it? How is he doing now?”
“He’s not conscious yet, but the doctor believes he’s responding to treatment.” This is not the reason for my absentmindedness, but I just play along.
“I’m so sorry, Aria. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
I manage a small smile for her as she walks back to her office. I turn my eyes back to my table, and the real issue bugging me seizes my chest, leaving my heart racing faster than normal.
I glance at the clock and let out a shaky sigh. It’s a little past noon, and I’ve only succeeded in wasting half the day without making progress on anything.
I put the laptop aside and slide the glasses off my nose, rubbing my hands at my eyes. My brother’s case would have to hold on for a while.
There are so many answers I need, and I wouldn’t get them by sitting lazily in this air-conditioned office. I grab my jacket and slide it onto my back on my way out.
***
Mia, an investigative journalist, is one of the few friends I’ve kept since high school. She’s seated in a small café just off 10th street, a cozy place which most people wouldn’t give a second glance, and she is typing furiously on her phone, brows furrowed in concentration, mouth chewing endlessly on bubble gum.
She raises her head when I plop into the seat beside her.
“You look terrible,” she exclaims as she does a once-over with her large, blue eyes. Her dark, wavy hair is left wildly around her face and shoulders, and her lips are heavily painted in red lipstick.
“Thanks, just exactly what I needed to hear.” I roll my eyes at her as she keeps roaming her eyes over my face.
“There are dark circles under your eyes, and your shoulders are tense. What’s going on with you? And why did you send that ‘we need to talk’ text? Is your dad okay?”
Typical of my best friend to critically assess me and point out her observations.
“Oh, please.” I grab the tall glass of lemonade in front of her and drink deeply from it. “You’re asking too many questions at the same time. My dad is still not conscious; we’re hoping he wakes up soon, but that’s obviously not why I texted you. I just needed someone to talk to.”
“Then you’ve come to the right person because I’ve been meaning to talk to you, too!” Her brows have lifted, and her face has lit up with excitement. I know Mia, when she’s like this it means she’s either onto big information, or she’s about to gossip.
“What is it you want to gossip about?”
She rolls her eyes at me but is obviously not offended because she goes right on without acknowledging my statement.
“You’re engaged to Elio Donatelli, I didn’t get to tell you congratulations.” She closes one eye in a wink, but a small frown upturns my lips.
“You did congratulate me, Mia. In fact, you were one of the first people to.”
“I did?” She takes a sip from her glass again. “Well, I guess I was so shocked at the news at the time that it didn’t actually register. Ok, I’ll just go into what I have to ask then.” Now I’m sure she’s definitely onto something suspicious.
“Listen, I’ve been doing some digging regarding the report that was made against Elio Donatelli’s warehouse…”
My laughter stops her. “Mia, what report? Where did you even hear that? On the internet?” I say, trying to make the issue as trivial as I can. I don’t think it’s on the internet yet. Elio must be doing something to keep it private.
“Aria, just listen, okay? I think this is big. And for your information, I didn’t get anything about it on the internet. That alone makes the whole thing sound suspicious.”
My eyes roll in their sockets. “So where the hell did you get whatever info you have?”
Mia huffs in frustration. “Girl, I’m a journalist, but I still had to sweat blood to get it, okay? Look, do you want to hear this or not?”
“Let’s hear it.”
She turns around to ensure no one around us is eavesdropping on the conversation, then turns back to me and in the quietest voice she can muster, says, “I think your fiancé is involved in some shady stuff.”
One of my brows jerks inquisitively.
“So…” I trail off, waiting for her to reveal whatever huge info she thinks she has about Elio.
“So you should be careful! I don’t think that guy is who we think he is…”
“Mia…”
“Drugs were found in his warehouse! Drugs, and cash, and whatever…”
I slam my palm softly to the table to get her to stop talking. “Mia, do me a favor.”
Her brows knit together to form an arc. “I’m all ears.”
I need Elio to protect my dad at any cost and can’t let anything get in the way of that. So I tell Mia, “Just don’t bother yourself with Elio Donatelli. It’s a setup. Big businessmen like him get into scandals like that all the time.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know…this one just feels different. Call it a journalist’s intuition.”
I close my eyes and shake my head, fighting the urge to spill the fact that the man is a murderous mafia don who would end her existence in a couple of minutes if he found out she’s looking vigorously into him.
Mia’s like a dog with a bone when she gets a whiff of something. And I’m sure she’s close to being onto something even now.
“About Mario,” I segue the conversation, slightly adjusting myself in my seat. “You said he told you that he had something big about Pascal, but he never said what.”
Her chest sinks as she stares at me, eyes suddenly watery. He was her superior at the newspaper where they worked together. They were such good buddies that I began to suspect Mario of having a crush on her.
“Yes,” she says, her eyelids drooping sadly, “but he never said what. I don’t think he told anyone.”
She sighs, “Aria, I thought your dad doesn’t want you on the case? If you’re dealing with the senator then… you risk losing your–”
“You still don’t get it,” I scoff. They don’t get it. Not even Dad. “Dad’s trying to protect me… he’s trying not to lose another child, but I’m trying to get justice… not to make Mario’s death in vain.”
“Aria…” she reaches out to place a hand on my hands, knitted together on the table, “You’re doing the best you can for an intern. One of these days when you have the right position and resources, you’ll find what you’ve been looking for, but right now…” her hand reaches out to cup my chin, forcing me to look at her, “…right now you have to stay alive to get there.”
Mia’s right. I can only find Mario’s killer if I stay away from dangerous waters and stay alive, but what kind of lawyer would I turn out to be if I run from every scary case simply because I want to stay alive?
“Aria?” Her voice cuts into my thoughts, bringing me back from my reverie. “Are you okay?”
A small smile touches my lips, she may be my favorite person in the world, but this battle isn’t hers to fight. It’s mine.
“I’ve never been better.” I send her a reassuring wink and a smile convincing enough to help her take her piercing eyes off me.
As she begins to rattle off about some other interesting case she’s begun to unravel, a strong resolve forms in my head as I force my attention back to her.
I’ll do everything within my power to bring my late brother the justice he deserves, whether I lose my life in the process or not.