43. Arianna
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ARIANNA
T hat brilliant idea took place two days later, before the official kickoff of the fall semester, beside a run-down bowling alley in the middle of nowhere twenty miles outside D’Arc’s massive campus.
The turnout for the bizarre car wash was surprisingly large, considering there was nothing but fields for miles in every direction. But social media was a powerful tool and images of young women clad in nothing but bikinis, high heels, and bubbles were apparently enough to draw the masses.
Lines of luxury cars, sedans, old beat-down trucks, and expensive sports cars stretched as far as the eye could see. Some waited in the scorching sun, others joined in on the party, and others just parked and watched like fucked-up voyeurs.
The girls and I leaned against a crumbling wall, watching the boys from a nearby college polish a row of cars under Hannah’s detailed instructions. Every so often she’d take selfies and post them on Instagram, making all of our phones chime with notifications.
“I’m seriously tempted to mute this thing,” Penelope grumbled, staring at the device in her hand.
“God, my feet are killing me,” I grumbled as I kicked off my heels and stretched my traumatized toes, breathing a relieved sigh. Some of the girls mimicked the move too. Washing cars wearing heels was idiotic, yet here we were.
My eyes darted to my twin who was laughing a bit too loud, spraying one of the students who was clearly infatuated with her. Her behavior made no sense. She got Matteo, yet she was still flirting away.
“ What possessed her to do this ?” Skye signed, looking at me for answers. “ I’ve never heard of a bikini car wash being a bridal shower event ?”
“ Your guess is as good as mine, but she wanted it, so… ” I shrugged, trailing off. But Hannah tended to do things when she wasn’t in the right frame of mind, and the harder you pushed her, the more chaos followed.
A Tate McRae playlist blasted through the speakers, and Hannah shot the college guys with a bubble machine gun, but her attention wasn’t on them. Instead, she was eyeing the parking lot almost as if she was waiting for someone.
“She’s been acting strange,” Penelope echoed my earlier sentiments. “Is it the engagement?” Then realizing it was inconsiderate, she shot an apologetic look at Francesca. “Sorry, I’m sure your brother is great and all?—”
Francesca raised her palm and stopped her. “No apologies needed, but from what I understand, she was given a choice and could have said no.”
Gianna scoffed. “As if Hannah would ever turn down a challenge.”
That familiar pain pierced through my chest, but I ignored it. I’d become really good at it by now.
“What do you mean?” Amara questioned.
“She’s been infatuated with Matteo since we were toddlers,” I offered. “The moment she saw him, she announced she’d marry him.”
“Good for her for recognizing her mate,” Anya grumbled. “Seems kind of… over the top, though, if you ask me.”
“A mate?” Penelope teased. “You make it sound like she’s a dog.”
“Too many shifter romance novels,” she muttered, drawing a round of laughter.
“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Gianna said. “Why is she flirting and acting like that if she finally got the man she wanted?”
“I’d like to know too,” Francesca agreed, flicking me a curious glance, but I just shrugged. I had no idea what had gotten into Hannah, and she refused to confide in me. But I knew that when my twin was ready, she’d reach out and I’d be there for her.
“We don’t need to understand all of Hannah’s motives,” I said sharply, instantly regretting it. I flashed them an apologetic smile. “Sorry, just cranky.”
“What’s wrong with you lately?” Francesca took a sip of her drink, eyeing me. Matteo’s sister might come off flighty sometimes, but it was all a front. She was more perceptive than an average twenty-one-year-old.
“Maybe I need therapy,” I joked, shrugging nonchalantly.
“ Nah, you don’t need therapy ,” Skye signed, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “ You just need a five-finger necklace. Some hottie to bend you over, pull your hair, and call you a good girl. ”
Francesca sputtered her drink and I choked on mine.
“What the fuck, Skye?” I coughed. “Give a girl some warning next time.”
“What do you even know about that shit?” Francesca inquired.
“What are we talking about?” Amara asked curiously, her attention on us.
Skye shrugged and signed with a straight face, “ Hannah .”
“She certainly has the skill of persuasion,” Amara pointed out, her eyes narrowed on the scene across the parking lot. “Those college boys know they’re being used, yet they don’t care.”
“ Truthfully, I’m curious how Hannah managed to convince them to join this charade ,” Skye pondered.
“I was really hoping for a wild Las Vegas girls’ trip,” Anya muttered. “Not… this.”
“It’s her bridal shower,” Penelope chimed, dismissing her. “For yours, we can go to Vegas.”
She scoffed. “We might be waiting a while, then.”
“Thank God fall semester is just around the corner,” Amara stated. “I’ve taken a cue from Arianna and registered for extra classes to finish my bachelor’s degree early. I’m planning to take a backpacking tour of Europe.”
“ Are you sure the Colombiano will allow you to go? ” Skye signed.
“What Colombiano?” Amara asked, but her crimson cheeks betrayed her. It would appear she wasn’t as indifferent to Gabriel as she’d led us to believe.
“There’s only one that matters,” Anya grumbled. She, and everyone else here, knew something was going on with Amara and Gabriel. “But fine. Be like that. Hold out on us.”
“What about you?” Penelope pinned her with a stare. “Are you holding out on us, Anya?”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline as I prayed my friends’ attention wouldn’t dart to me. One of Hannah’s helpers approached, smiling shyly, thankfully halting all further discussion.
“Hey, ladies. Would you like something to drink?” He glanced over his shoulder and pointed to a group of college boys. “If you’re up for it, we have a cooler full of…”
“Beer?” Anya asked.
“Yes, among other things.”
We shared a glance. As a usual practice, we tended to avoid normal boys, but every once in a while, we’d cave into temptation.
It would seem today was one of those days because I heard myself answering, “Sure, why not.”
Two hours later, we were all smiling, most of our gloomy thoughts chased away by the shots we’d taken. Each time we’d taken one, we earned Hannah’s approval and drew everyone’s attention.
All remaining cars had been sent away with the excuse that we ran out of soap, but the truth was that Hannah wanted to use it to drown us in bubbles. With the alcohol traveling through our veins though, somehow it seemed like an excellent idea.
Dancing, drinking, and howls of laughter almost kept us from registering the moment a loud sports car pulled up.
“Holy shit, is that a Bugatti Chiron?” one of our new friends whispered, wide-eyed. Awed gasps traveled around while our friends looked unimpressed.
Hannah stood stiffly next to me, her expression several shades paler than it’d been a mere minute ago.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning toward her.
“What color is that Bugatti?” she rasped against my cheek.
I flicked a gaze that way before answering.
“Bluish gray with red trim?” The chatter faded away while the two of us remained standing still. I took both her arms and shook her gently. “Hannah, what’s going on? I don’t like all these secrets.”
The hypocrisy didn’t escape me.
She reached for her discarded summer dress, then slid it on.
“Everything’s okay,” she assured me, flashing me a smile. “Hey, girls,” she called out. “Uncle Kyran is here and needs me. Can you all finish this up?”
“Why is Uncle—” My words trailed off and my brow furrowed at the realization. She’d refused to call him Uncle Kyran for as long as I could remember.
But before I could form my thoughts, she was already gone and I was left staring at taillights.
An hour later, I sat on the stone wall watching my girls continue downing shots while I sipped on water. Hannah still hadn’t returned, and although I was worried, she’d texted me thirty minutes ago not to expect her back and that everything was fine.
I had no idea what that meant, but I took comfort in the knowledge that Uncle Kyran wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
I had completely forgotten about the guy who’d been entertaining me with stories I was only half listening to. His ruffled blond hair and clear blue eyes held no ruthlessness, only curiosity.
He still wore swim shorts, his tanned chest exposed and inviting admiration. Despite the fact that my pulse didn’t skip nor did anything about his smile make my heart race, I gawked at his muscular abs. Unfortunately, it was to compare every ridge of those abs to another set that I’d kissed and touched only weeks ago.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I finally answered, the words slightly bitter on my tongue.
I slid off the wall and he mirrored my move, leaving us standing close. He was nowhere near as tall as Matteo, but he was pleasing enough. With hesitant steps, I closed the distance between us and put my hand on his chest.
Not even a blip , I thought, willing my heart to get excited. It didn’t.
“Do you work out?” I asked.
“Three times a week.”
“It shows,” I observed.
“You’re stunning,” he said, eyeing my body unabashedly. “And your voice is so beautiful. Are you a singer?”
An amused laugh left me. “I’ve barely spoken a word. Where did you come up with that ?”
He flashed me a smile filled with charm.
“I get goose bumps whenever you speak.”
I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed so hard, tears brimmed the corner of my eyes. He watched me with an easy smile.
“How many times have you used that line?” I mused.
“Never,” he vowed, but the twitch of his grin told me otherwise.
“What’s your name again?” I asked, although he’d told me several times already.
“Brian.”
“Well, Brian. How many times did that line actually work?” I asked, amused and slightly curious.
He chuckled awkwardly. “You really want to know?”
“I really do.”
He leaned in, his sunscreen scent invading my senses. His breath brushed against my earlobe. “I’ve?—”
Movement caught in the corner of my eye, and before I could process that Matteo was striding toward us with something volatile in his expression, Brian’s body was flying through the air and slamming to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Matteo growled at me.
Before I could answer, Brian was back, shoving him away from me and punching him square in the jaw. “What the fuck, dude?”
I stared in shock as Matteo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling darkly before pulling his own fist back and punching Brian so hard his back hit the ground.
He stood over him. “Stay out of this… dude . Or I’ll have that carved on your gravestone.”
“Fuck I will,” Brian gritted. “She said she doesn’t have a boyfriend, so she’s a free woman and this is a free country. She can talk to and be with anyone she wants, which is obviously me, so fuck off.”
“Gravestone it is, then.” Smiling viciously, Matteo pulled his gun out of the back of his waistband and pointed it between his brows. His expression didn’t even waver as he pistol-whipped Brian.
“Stop it, Matteo!” I screamed.
“It’s clear she doesn’t want you,” Brian said, trying to appear unaffected by the blood spurting from his right ear. “Move on.”
I cringed. “Stop talking if you want to live.”
“You said you were single,” he said.
Matteo cocked the gun, pressing it against his skull, and we all froze.
“She’s not single, fucker.” Matteo punched him again. “Repeat after me. ‘I will stay away from Arianna.’”
“Fuck. You.” Brian clearly had no sense of self-preservation.
“Here it comes,” Gabriel, who seemed to materialize from the ether, said with a sigh. “These boys never know when to fucking stop talking.”
As if in a daze, I watched him brush a piece of lint off his suit, then lean against the car with his hands in his pockets.
“Stop him, Gabriel,” I begged, noting the sounds of screams, gasps, and cries. But Matteo’s fists against Brian outweighed them all. “Please… He’s going to kill him.”
I glanced around and saw that everyone had gathered and was now staring at us.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the goal,” Gabriel drawled, his accent bleeding into his voice.
With nausea churning in my stomach, I shoved Matteo out of the way before I threw myself on top of Brian’s bloodied body.
“Enough, Matteo,” I screamed, my ears ringing in fear. If he killed him in front of all these people, he’d undoubtedly end up behind bars. “Please.”
Matteo’s eyes coasted to me, burning. “Get away from him, Ari.”
“No,” I breathed as the sound of approaching sirens registered. “Police?—”
“Did you let him kiss you?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Did. He. Kiss. You?” All the lightness disappeared from Matteo. A shiver ran down my spine as awareness settled over me. Matteo would never let me move on.
“N-no,” I stuttered.
Sirens blasted all around us, police officers jumped out of their cars, yelling orders, but all my attention was on Matteo. Gabriel was now next to him, his usual suave aura replaced by hard lines and hurried movements.
“Matteo, we need to pause this for now,” he drawled.
“I will fucking kill you if you touch her again. Hell, if you even look at her,” Matteo growled, his coarse words feeding the frenzy and violence in the air. The man had no regard for the police officers who were approaching us with their weapons already drawn.
“That’s him,” one of the college boys yelled.
“He attacked him unprovoked,” another shouted.
“That’s not technically true,” I said, shaking my head frantically.
“Put the gun down.” The police officer’s order echoed through the air. “Final warning.”
“Do what they say,” I breathed quietly to Matteo, scared to see him shot dead in front of me.
“Arianna, stop touching the bastard,” Gabriel said in a quiet tone. I blinked. I’d completely forgotten I was shielding Brian’s body. I pushed away from him and stood up, putting distance between us.
It was only then that Matteo lowered his weapon, his eyes never leaving me.
“A slight lover’s quarrel, officers. All good,” said Gabriel.
But the officers were already on Matteo, reading him his rights as they placed cuffs on his wrists while another officer rushed to Brian’s side to help him to his feet.
Francesca strode to me, looking disapprovingly at her handcuffed brother who didn’t seem perturbed at all.
“This isn’t going to end well,” she said, breezing to my side.
“I don’t imagine it will. Your brother’s in handcuffs.”
She shrugged, shooting me a pointed look. “He’ll be okay, I’m sure. Besides, he seems more concerned with staring you down.”
I opened my mouth to explain—to say what, I didn’t know—when the rest of the girls crowded around me. I returned my attention to Gabriel and Matteo, who were speaking in hushed tones.
“Did he think you were Hannah?” Anya asked.
Penelope rolled her eyes. “I sincerely doubt that.”
“ Hannah shouldn’t have invited those guys in the first place ,” Skye signed. “ Clearly they don’t understand boundaries .”
“Agreed,” Amara grumbled.
The police officer led Brian over and I winced at the state of his bruised face.
“Hey.” He walked over to me, attempting a grimace of a smile. “Thanks for… you know.”
Matteo pushed against the police officer, his hands still cuffed in front of him, and got into Brian’s face, glaring at him. “Don’t ever, ever , talk to her again. Don’t even fucking look at her. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Mr. Vitale, are you threatening him?” the officer asked.
“Not at all, officer.” Gabriel played the diplomat while Matteo’s gaze, narrowed at the edges, found mine, hard and intimidating.
“Any man who touches this woman will answer to me.” Matteo’s voice was cold, but his gaze burned me hotter than the pits of hell. “And that’s a threat and a promise.”