37. Arianna
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ARIANNA
I t was almost ten at night when my brothers and I strolled back through the Vitales’ front door. Chatter echoed around us the moment we stepped inside, and I wanted to turn back around immediately.
“Don’t people understand the concept of overstaying a party?” Cassius muttered.
I just had to find my way to my bedroom and then lock myself inside before I did something I might regret. But I barely took five steps before I was cornered, all my bags falling onto the floor of the grand foyer.
“Where have you been?” Hannah asked in a very slurred voice. She waved her hand, her movements sluggish as she staggered toward us. Gianna followed behind her, ensuring she didn’t faceplant. Meeting my gaze, she mouthed the obvious, She’s drunker than a skunk.
“We were?—”
“Never mind,” she cut off my attempt at an explanation. She flipped her hair and pointed a finger at me as she held an imaginary microphone to her lips. “Ladies and gentlemen, my twin has returned, gracing my engagement party with her presence.”
“Cut it out, Hannah,” our brother Dominico warned. “Today’s not the day to do your dumb shit.”
“It’s okay,” I said, but my little sister just huffed.
“No, it isn’t. Hannah has been on a rampage since you left without her.”
Guilt pierced my chest and I pulled my sister into a hug. “I’m so sorry. The announcement just surprised me.”
“Why?” She watched me with a furrowed brow. “I’ve only been saying I’d marry Matteo since we were toddlers.” She was right. There probably wasn’t a single guest surprised by the announcement. Hannah flipped her hair again and smiled. “Can you believe it, sis? All my towels will be embroidered with H&M .”
My throat filled with nausea, so many overwhelming emotions hitting me in the chest at once.
“Personally, I wouldn’t engrave those initials anywhere,” Gianna deadpanned. “Unless you want everyone to think they’re from the H&M store.”
Cassius snickered. “Considering Hannah’s taste, they might actually be from there.”
I jostled my brothers’ shoulders. “Stop it, you two. There’s nothing wrong with her taste.”
There wasn’t, but my twin had gone through an H&M day-dress phase, and there were pictures of her in yellow linen in the middle of winter to prove it.
“Hmm, maybe M&H then…?” Hannah tapped her chin pensively. “But I hate the idea of his initial going first.”
“Not sure why it matters,” Gianna grumbled.
Hannah sighed happily and swayed on her feet, looking up to the ceiling. “Can you believe it? He asked for my hand like a gentleman. It’s like that show you love so much. What’s it called again?”
“ Bridgerton .”
“Except in that show, nobody is asking for permission before the banging happens,” Cassius deadpanned. “Did you two shag?”
My chest twisted with something ugly.
“Why in the fuck are you using British slang?” Gianna questioned, narrowing her eyes on our brother.
“Maybe he’s banging a British chick,” Dominico answered. “I know I am.”
“So much banging and shagging going on,” Hannah muttered. “It’s making my head spin.”
“I rather think it’s something else that’s making your head spin,” I bit out, but then immediately eased my sharp tone with a smile. It wasn’t my twin’s fault I was green with jealousy.
“Are you happy for me, sister?” Hannah questioned, falling into me. I hugged her tight, that familiar sense of belonging washing over me. She was my twin, my other half. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the one to break her heart. “My two favorite people in the world. Matteo and Arianna.”
The foul taste of guilt was heavy on my tongue.
“And what the fuck are our brothers and me?” Gianna spat. “Chopped liver?”
“Well…” Hannah smiled drunkenly, but then as if she forgot about her and our brothers, she turned to look at me. “You like him too, don’t you? I can’t have you two not like each other.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat, but before I could think of an answer, Uncle Luca showed up.
“Hey, kiddo.” He pulled me into a hug. “Glad you’re back. Your dad wants to talk to you in Luciano’s office.”
“Umm, I have to take my bags upstairs.”
“I got them,” Hannah slurred, shoving me in the direction of the office. “Go give our dad your blessing.”
With a grimace, I turned around and came face-to-face with Skye’s compassionate eyes. “ Good luck. That room is like a ticking time bomb .”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Thanks. Any chance you have a gun ? ”
Her eyes fell to my shirt, then darted behind me to my brothers’ shirts. “ Probably best that you go without it. If they piss you off, rob them blind afterward .”
She winked and then disappeared into the crowd.
I puffed out my chest, squared my shoulders, and nodded once. “Let’s go.”
The scene awaiting me in the office would scare a normal girl.
Lucky for me, I was far from normal.
I’d grown up around these men, and much like my own dad, they’d always been there for me and my siblings.
“So we’re doing this with all your mates as witnesses, Dad?”
Sasha Nikolaev broke the tension. Sort of. “I’m here as your future something-in-law.”
My brows furrowed and I glared at Dad. “I swear to God, if you arranged?—”
“I didn’t,” he assured me quickly. “I promised all three of you I’d give you a choice.”
“Nikola is Arianna’s choice, isn’t he?” Sasha egged on, smiling. “You can call me Uncle Sasha, just like you did when you were a kid. Come sit with your uncle, kiddo.” He paused, his own brows furrowing. “Well, that sounded a bit wrong.”
“Something’s seriously wrong with you,” Uncle Luca muttered. “You’re losing your touch, dude. Instead of being funny and annoying, you sound perverted and twisted.”
Sasha’s face turned somber.
“Yeah, I didn’t like the sound of it either.” Dad and I sighed, pinching our noses, and Sasha’s face lit up as he wagged a finger between our identical expressions. “Well, would you look at that! Like father, like daughter. So damn cute.” Dad gave him a look like he wanted to kill him. “Come in, kiddo, and forget the first half of the conversation. I’ll just be your uncle-in-law.”
“Over my dead body,” Dad muttered.
“Arrangeable,” Sasha deadpanned while I glanced over my shoulder, eyeing the exit longingly.
“No sense in running,” Uncle Luca said, winking discreetly. “Ignore those old fuckers, and don’t worry, I got your back.”
“Uh-huh.”
I walked deeper into the room and took a seat in an empty chair, then crossed my legs.
“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” I muttered, drawing another round of laughter. Except I found nothing amusing. “Actually, correction. I did punch Matteo, and no, I’m not sorry.”
Dad locked eyes with me, studying me, but I remained perfectly still under his scrutiny. I planned to cough this whole thing with Matteo up to a misunderstanding and move on. How hard could it possibly be?
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” Dad stated matter-of-factly. “I’m afraid Luciano and I made…” The two shared an uncomfortable glance before Dad continued. “We made an assumption while executing the marriage arrangement.”
I swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Matteo wants… you.” My cheeks must have heated into flames. I glanced around the room, wishing a hole would open up and swallow me. Dad cleared his throat. “How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t understand,” I muttered. “We just announced Hannah’s and his engagement.”
Dad let out a heavy sigh. “We can amend it and?—”
“We’ll talk to your sister and explain it was a mistake,” Mr. Vitale supplied. “It’s not as if they’ve been engaged long. We’ll just do a quick switcheroo. Nico and I will plead mea culpa and move on.”
Hannah’s happy, beaming smile flashed in my mind. She was the happiest I’d seen her in… I couldn’t remember. This would tear her apart, and I didn’t think I could stand by and allow that to happen. Her pain was my pain, as were her struggles.
I straightened in my seat, meeting my father’s and his friends’ gazes head-on.
“Hannah’s been smitten with Matteo since we were children, not me,” I said, my voice unwavering, although a bit scratchy. “Why would it make sense to change it around?”
Mr. Vitale fixed that hazel gaze on me, watching me with a furrow in his brow.
“Are you sure that’s what you want, Arianna?” Dad’s stoic voice pulled my attention. “Matteo said he wants you.”
Conflicted, I churned through many options, my heart yearning to be Matteo’s. But I kept coming to the same conclusion—twenty and some years of my twin’s infatuation and love would be swiftly and irreparably crushed.
But that word remained knotted in my throat, choking me while my lips refused to move and say them out loud.
Dad let me marinate in my conflict for a long moment before he dealt me the final blow.
“Hannah will recover.”
I schooled my face, swallowing down a choke as my heart broke for the second time today. Except this time, it was of my own doing.
“I don’t want to marry Matteo, I’m not interested in him.” I flicked a glance at Mr. Vitale. “Sorry.”
Dad watched me for a beat. “Are you sure?”
No .
I nodded, scared my voice would betray me. As if on autopilot, I stood and made my way to the door when I slammed into a hard chest.
I froze, staring at a set of stormy hazel eyes threatening to swallow me into their depths. He towered over me, and unlike before when his size felt like a shield, now it felt downright ominous.
I blinked, then blinked again, murmuring a low “Excuse me” as I tried to sidestep him.
“Not so fucking fast, Ari,” he growled, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.
My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat a brutal warning that I wasn’t ready for this—for him. I wasn’t prepared to hear his voice rumble across my cheek, feel his touch, or face the undeniable pull that still existed between us.
Yet here he was, gripping me with a force just shy of bruising. Rough. Punishing. And dammit, my body still reacted, every nerve sparking with chaotic energy.
“This is over,” I hissed. “Now let me pass.”
“No.” His gaze dipped to my shirt before coming to rest on my face. “Our parents made a mistake. I intend to amend the announcement and tell everyone I’m marrying you.”
I yanked my hand out of his grip. “I won’t marry you.”
For a fraction of a second, pain twisted his features before it was gone, swallowed by a ruthless mask. His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening to something lethal.
Then he smiled. A sharp, merciless thing.
“You won’t have a choice.”
His voice curled around me, laced with something more dangerous than anger—determination. He took a step forward. I stepped back. My Chucks kissed the tops of his expensive Italian shoes. I took another step back, my back hitting the door, and he took another, taking up every inch of my space as his hand came around my neck.
“Matteo…” His father’s warning voice registered in the corner of my mind, but I was ensnared in the gaze of my sister’s fiancé.
He didn’t budge, ignoring all the commotion around us. “Tell me you don’t want me.”
“I… don’t… want… you…” I whispered between choked breaths, both my hands on his around my neck, my fingers digging into his flesh. “If you care at all, you’ll let me go.”
“Then I must not care, because I’ll never… fucking ever… let you go.”
The pressure around my neck tightened, shouts and the chaotic scene behind him registering through the fog in my mind.
“Get your hands off my daughter,” Dad growled, his voice arctic. “And step the fuck away from her or this floor will be stained with your brains and blood.”
“Nico!” Mom screamed, tugging Dad who held the barrel of a gun against Matteo’s temple. Uncle Cassio attempted to intervene, but Matteo wasn’t budging.
My vision blurred, distantly aware of my mom’s red face, Uncle Luca’s gun pointed at Mr. Vitale, and Sasha Nikolaev grumbling Told you I’d be needed while he tried to wedge his way between all the suicidal mafia men.
“Son, let her go!” Mr. Vitale ordered, his own gun pointed at my dad.
“What is happening here?” Mrs. Vitale whisper-yelled, appearing in the far corner of the hallway.
She stared at the scene in shock for a second, maybe more, before she came running.
“Jesus Christ, Matteo. What are you doing?” she cried. “Let her go!”
Matteo’s and my mom screamed, their tear-streaked faces flushed red and painted with agony.
“Nico, get away from my son,” Luciano growled.
“Tell your son to get the fuck away from my daughter,” he shot back, his finger still on the trigger.
But Matteo refused to move, glaring at me. My limbs trembled the more I stared at his eyes, glazing with intensity.
“ There’s no moving on ,” he mouthed, ignoring the chaos around us and keeping all his focus on me. Then, louder, he added, “Not for you. Not for me. Not for us.”
The pain on his face must have mirrored my own, because I felt it deep in my heart. And as much as I wanted him, I couldn’t do it at the cost of my twin’s pain.
“I’m sorry,” I rasped. For what I’m about to do.
His hold around my neck loosened, and gathering all my strength, I kneed him in the groin, pushed him away, and ran.
I had to get out of here before I made a fool out of myself or did something stupid.
I was almost to my Jeep parked in front of the manor where the sounds of the party were nonexistent when footsteps registered.
“Ari. Don’t.” Two simple words, but they held all the pain and anguish in the world.
I whirled around, my eyes burning as he closed in on me, stopping five feet away.
“Enough, Matteo,” I pleaded, gathering the courage to say the words that would sever all that we’d ever shared.
A low growl rumbled from his chest.
“Don’t,” he warned, an unspoken threat rolling off him.
“I don’t love you.”
The biggest lie I’d ever told.
I turned and bolted, unable to look back at him. I was too sickened, too scared that I’d cave if I stopped.
The man I knew… He smiled, he teased, he comforted. Yet with each step, I could almost feel him fading away.
I closed the distance to my car, my hands shaking so violently it took me several tries to start the engine. It wasn’t until I was far enough down the driveway that I dared to look in the rearview mirror.
Matteo was down on his knees, staring after me.
Shit . Shit.
How would I ever stop yearning for my sister’s fiancé? How could I kill these feelings that were throbbing in my chest, threatening to burst like a meteor?
There was one thing I knew for certain as I shuddered, my face wet with tears.
A piece of my heart was left behind with Matteo, and the rest of it was forever altered.