40. Arianna
CHAPTER FORTY
ARIANNA
H ow was it possible for a boy you’d known for decades to suddenly become the center of your universe?
If I knew the answer, maybe I’d be able to cut it out. Instead, I feigned a brave face while my eyes burned with tears until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
In our dorm room, I listened to Gianna and Hannah bicker while my heart wreaked havoc from the inside out. Each day I told myself it would get easier, but instead, it got harder. It’d been two weeks since the engagement was announced. One week since Matteo appeared at our family dinner.
One week since he snuck inside my room and vowed he’d never give up on me—on us.
“You can’t be here,” I hissed when he appeared in my bedroom. The crazy man had pretended to leave after dinner, only to climb up like some acrobat—in a suit, at that—and appear on my balcony, looking like the latest version of James Bond.
“Wrong, baby,” he drawled, tugging on his cuffs. “Wherever you are is where I need to be.”
I shook my head. “Matteo, it’s no good. I’m not changing my mind and ? —”
“You’re not happy. A blind man could see it.”
“Irrelevant.”
I stared up at him, at the slight furrow in his brow, at the disappointment I could feel rolling off of him.
“Remember what I told you when we were kids?” I shook my head once. “I said that you’ll be the death of me. Funny thing is, I’m okay with that. I would rather be with you for one day and meet my death than live a thousand lifetimes without you.”
I wanted to cry. Scream. But instead, I said, “You’ll have to learn to live without me. Just as I—” My heart thundered in my chest as I was about to tell him another lie. “Just as I have learned to live without you.”
He shook his head with a tight expression. “No. You’ll be my wife, and I’ll be your husband forever.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” I shook my head frantically. “I can’t— won’t marry you.”
He leaned in, the scent of his familiar cologne filling my lungs, causing me to shudder.
“Don’t,” I breathed, afraid I’d cave into him. “Don’t kiss me.”
“Scared you won’t be able to resist these feelings and attraction between us?” he said, moving his hand between us. “This fire between us will burn forever. In this life and the next.”
“It’s just lust.” Although it felt like so much more.
“You and I… We are strong alone, but together, we’re unstoppable. I won’t rest, I won’t stop until you’re my wife, Ari.”
Then he slipped off the balcony and into the night while I stared after him, fighting this doomed longing.
“Arianna, tell her.” Hannah’s voice pulled me from the memory, demanding my attention. My twin was pacing around restlessly, wearing white shorts and a green T-shirt that had a leprechaun on it.
“Tell her what?”
“That I’m making a difference.”
My brows scrunched and Gianna sighed, then proceeded to explain. “She thinks painting her face and chasing men through the woods is balancing the scales or something.”
My younger sister wore a shirt in honor of my twin that had Feck, Fuck… Love? screen-printed across the chest.
Maybe there was a point to her shirt. Love and lust were often confused, and that could be my problem. Matteo made me feel incredible when he fucked my brains out, but it didn’t necessarily mean he was the love of my life.
“Hello?” Gianna waved her hand in front of my face.
I gave my head a subtle shake and turned to look at my twin.
“What kind of difference are you hoping to make?”
“Kill every human trafficker we get our hands on, of course.”
I shot her a surprised look. “That’s why you joined them?”
“I want to help somehow.”
I sighed heavily. “Why didn’t you just call Aunt áine or Uncle Cassio? She always needs help with her organization.”
“What happened wasn’t your fault, Hannah,” Gianna added, tilting her chin in that same way Mom would.
Guilt was such an endless, vicious circle, and it would seem we were all victims to it.
“No, it wasn’t.” I echoed my sister’s words, my throat thick.
“I blame myself.” She scratched at her hand, her voice raw. “For what happened to Gianna.” I touched her arm and stopped her scratching. “For what happened to you.”
“Me?”
“You almost burned alive,” Hannah croaked. “If Matteo hadn’t?—”
“But he did.” Tears gathered in her eyes as I grabbed her hand. “Gianna and I lived through it all.”
“I heard Dad say they were human traffickers. They were going to—” She released a long sigh, cutting her words short. “And I walked her right into their lair.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks now, rendering Gianna and me speechless.
My twin was usually the strong one. The stubborn one. She never let anything or anyone get her down, plowing through every emotion and person who dared to bring her down.
I choked on my tears and pulled her to me, squeezing her tightly. “But they didn’t.”
“That’s right,” Gianna whispered, choking up too. “Aside from a few bruises, I escaped unharmed.”
“But—”
“No buts,” I stopped her. “We both fucked up.”
Gianna snickered. “The three of us did. Or did you forget how I threatened to snitch on you if you didn’t take me along?”
I had forgotten, honestly, and judging by the expression on Hannah’s face, so had she.
“Stop crying, Hannah,” I rasped softly. “Or Gianna and I will join in and then all hell will break loose.”
Dad always said when his daughters cried, weaker men better cower because he’d unleash hell.
“I love you both so much,” Gianna murmured. “I’m so lucky to have such loving—if slightly annoying and overbearing—sisters.”
That made Hannah cry even harder.
“Okay, okay. No more kind words or Hannah will be a puddle,” I half teased.
She let out a strangled laugh. “I’m such an ugly crier.”
Gianna scoffed.
“Show me a beautiful crier. No such thing.” She stepped forward and hugged both of us with such force we tumbled onto the ground of the empty dorm room.
“Ouch,” I grunted, rubbing my tailbone. “When did you become so strong, Gianna?”
Her back against the carpet, stuck in between us, Gianna turned her head my way and smiled. “I’ve been taking lessons with a… friend.”
“A friend?” I asked cautiously, the three of us still sprawled on the floor.
“Yes.”
“We should run a background check on him,” Hannah stated seriously, wiping her face.
A heartbeat passed, then another.
“Likely nothing would come up.”
My sister’s comment surprised me and I narrowed my eyes on her, studying her. “Are you… in love with this guy?”
She laughed. “God no.”
My twin and I each exhaled a relieved breath. “Thank fuck. You’re only nineteen. Love is… too complicated to worry about at that age.”
Despite my own somewhat tragic circumstance, I let out a strangled laugh. “Says the one who fell in love with a boy when we were toddlers.”
She grinned while I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. That smile right there was the reason I refused to entertain Matteo’s grand ideas of us. Hannah always acted tough, but deep down, she was breakable, just like the rest of us.
“I have a secret,” Gianna blurted, and I grinned.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, woman,” Hannah said after a minute, both of us waiting with bated breaths.
“Promise you won’t get upset, but since we’re talking about kidnapping…”
Hannah and I shared a curious look.
“Yes?” I encouraged.
“I learned the identity of the man who snatched me that night.” Gianna lifted onto her elbows. “You know, the-night-that-shall-not-be-named because we all start this blame game and tears flow?”
Ignoring that familiar terror in my chest, I smacked her arm. “Don’t drag it on. Who is he?”
“He’s our Welsh cousin.”
“Huh?” I sat up while Hannah watched her with a downturned expression. “I don’t understand.”
Gianna shifted so she was kneeling now. “I don’t have all the facts yet, but I know one thing for certain. He is our cousin.”
“But how can that be?” I questioned. “Uncle Luca or Cassio… they would never cheat.”
“Mom had another half brother,” Gianna stated confidently. “Marco King. He and his father were Welsh.”
Make sure your sister and her friend stop snooping. Why did the stranger’s words linger in the back of my mind? He had completely slipped my mind with all the events that had happened.
“What does this cousin look like? Is it that man who told me to go back into the car when I came searching for you?”
Gianna shook her head.
“No, that guy set me free. But our cousin…” She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist almost as if the memory of him alone sparked the need to protect herself. “Simón King. Our cousin. Son of Marco King. Mom’s half brother. He’s an entirely different breed. There’s something terrifying about him.”
We were all grandchildren of Benito King. The legacy of heathens phrase had never made more sense than at this moment.
“I’m confused,” Hannah muttered. “So our cousin kidnapped you?”
Gianna nodded. “He and the men who work for him and their organization.”
“None of it makes sense to me. Why?”
“I didn’t understand it either. Until I found this.” Gianna reached for her phone and scrolled until she handed it to me. “I hacked into Dad’s network and… Well, read it.”
I did, Hannah reading the same words over my shoulder, and understanding dawned on me.
“The Belles and Mobsters Agreement,” Hannah read aloud on a shallow breath. “Didn’t someone mention?—”
I lifted my eyes and met my sisters’ gaze. “Holy shit. Our grandfather, Benito King, ran the auctions and Mom killed him.”
“But Uncle Luca took the blame,” Hannah murmured and pointed to a section. “See, right there.”
It was remarkable how good Gianna had gotten at digging up information. She found that the cousin was born and raised in Wales by an influential family, which made all of this even more confusing.
“But that’s not all,” Gianna whispered, although it was just the three of us here. “The very same man that kidnapped me is now working on resurrecting the auctions.”