27. Aria
27
ARIA
I sit across from Gianis in Black Bean , the hum of conversations and clinking cups surrounding us. Freshly brewed coffee fills the air, blending with the scent of pastries.
Gianis looks tired as he sips his espresso. I stir my latte, the creamy swirl mesmerizing for a moment before I look up at him. It’s nice to see him again, especially with everything going on. And I know he’s been through a lot, too.
“ So ,” I begin, my voice light but curious. “ How do you feel about Angie now? I know it’s been hard...” Gianis has had feelings for Ang for years. Once Evan came into the picture, he confessed how he felt to her, but she didn’t reciprocate. Safe to say, he and Evan aren’t each other’s biggest fans.
Gianis sets his cup down, exhaling softly. “ It’s ...complicated. I still care about her a lot, but I’ve come to terms with it all. Seeing her happy is more important to me than anything else. And she seems in a better place now, especially with us visiting her in Antium .”
“ I’m glad you’re handling it well. It’s not easy to let go of someone you love.”
“ No , it’s not.” He chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “ But we have to move on, right? What about you? How are you holding up with everything?”
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. “ Honestly , it’s been a lot. The forced engagement, dealing with Andrew ... It’s — I don’t even know where to begin.”
Gianis’s gaze sharpens. “ I’m worried about you. You don’t have to go into detail, though, know that I’m here if you need to talk.”
His words catch me off guard, a lump forming in my throat, and for a moment I debate telling him what happened. But I can’t. “ Thank you for being there for me. It means a lot.”
He reaches across the table, squeezing my hand gently. “ Anytime .” Though I can tell, he won’t let it go easily.
“ Ri , I don’t know what’s going on, but I can sense something isn’t right.”
I glance away, my heart pounding. “ It’s nothing I can talk about right now.”
Gianis nods, not pressing further, and he reluctantly switches to a different topic.
We chat for a while before falling into a comfortable silence, both lost in our thoughts as we finish our coffees.
When we head outside, the bright sunlight momentarily blinds me.
As my vision adjusts, I spot Andrew leaning against his car, his eyes fixed on me. My stomach churns, anxiety creeping in. Gianis notices him and turns to give me a reassuring smile, before squeezing me against his chest.
“ Take care, Aria . And remember, I’m here if you need anything.”
I offer a weak smile in return. “ Thanks , G . I’ll see you around.”
The cool breeze hits me as I make my way along the sidewalk toward Andrew .
My heart skips a beat—in an “ I want to throw up” kind of way—as I meet his gaze again, but I try to maintain my composure.
Ever since his threat, Andrew’s been going away for long periods at a time, popping up unexpectedly like this, lurking in the shadows like a predator. I know he’s always watching me, though I refuse to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. The only time I’m confident he’s not keeping tabs on me is when I’m home. Though , I’m almost positive he has the guards reporting to him. I haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and he seems oddly on edge, his gaze shifting around us, as if he’s looking for someone.
Andrew’s erratic behavior has given me whiplash over the past year. One second, he’s playing nice, acting like the perfect fiancé with his charming smile and considerate gestures. The next, he reverts to a pompous asshole who doesn’t give a shit about anything but himself.
It’s as if I’m constantly walking on eggshells, never knowing when he’ll snap.
“ Hello , Aria ,” he drawls, his voice dripping with false charm. “ Fancy meeting you here.”
I force a tight-lipped smile, fists clenching at my sides. “ What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He pushes himself off the car, glancing over his shoulder, as if looking for someone. Tension radiates off him, making me uneasy. “ Oh , just checking in on my favorite girl,” he says, eyes glinting with something dark and unsettling.
“ I’m not your girl,” I retort, my voice coming out sharper than intended. I really need him to stop calling me that .
He chuckles, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. “ Oh , but you are, Aria . You belong to me, whether you like it or not.”
I swallow hard, trying to suppress the fear bubbling up inside me. “ I belong to no one.”
His smile widens, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. “ We’ll see about that,” he says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.
Andrew has this uncanny ability to make me feel so small, so insignificant. When I’m around him, my usual fire flickers out. It’s like he has this power over me that I can’t shake off.
He has broken me.
I used to be strong, level-headed, a force to be reckoned with. Now , there’s only a fraction of myself left, clinging desperately to that sliver of sanity so I don’t lose myself completely.
But I decide to fight back a little.
I flinch away from his touch, skin crawling. “ Don’t touch me,” I snap, taking another step back.
He laughs again, his amusement making my hairs stand on end. “ Feisty as ever, I see,” he says, his tone mocking. “ I like that in a woman.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes, clenching my jaw. This isn’t the first time he’s said that. He may say he likes the rare times I answer back, but I know I need to get away from him before he decides I’ve overstepped. I also know he won’t make it easy.
“ I want to take you for a little drive. Maybe get some dinner at my place.”
My pulse quickens. I’ve only been to his house a few times, with our families. I managed to avoid being alone with him there…until now. I know that it’ll eventually be my place too, but I’d rather not set foot there until I have to.
I yield, not wanting to argue with him or ruin his apparently good mood and hop into his car.
When we pull up to his house, I glance out at it. It’s just as I remember it. The exterior is neat but uninviting, lacking the warmth and charm I’ve grown up accustomed to. The facade is plain, with minimal landscaping and a monotone color scheme that fails to hold my attention.
Andrew opens my car door, and I step out, feeling a sense of unease. I feel chilly, even though it’s not particularly cold outside.
I follow him up the pathway to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the evening.
As we enter the house, I can’t help but notice again the contrast between Andrew’s home and Dion’s . It is stark and immediate, the interior cold and impersonal, with muted colors and sparse furnishings. There’s a lack of life, a sense of emptiness that weighs heavily on my heart. How am I supposed to ever feel comfortable here?
I can’t help but feel yet another wave of despair. This is not a place I can imagine myself ever calling home. It’s too...clinical, too devoid of personality. Just like the thought of Dion , it leaves me with a hollowness inside.
I crave the warmth and comfort of Dion’s home more, a place where I felt truly welcome and at peace.
Andrew snaps me out of my thoughts. “ Are you hungry?”
I want to say no, but my stomach growls loud enough to alert the fucking neighbors. “ I guess I am,” I say sheepishly. I’d rather not eat with him, though I can’t avoid it now.
As Andrew puts the moussaka in the oven, an awkward silence settles between us. I try to fill it with small talk, anything to break the tension.
“ So , how was your day?” I ask, fiddling with the hem of my shirt.
He shrugs. “ Oh , you know, the usual. Busy .”
I nod, even though I have no idea what his usual day entails. “ Right , right. Work stuff.”
The oven timer beeps, signaling that dinner is ready. Andrew takes out the steaming dish and places it on the table. “ Help yourself.”
I nod again, forcing a smile as I serve myself a generous portion. The moussaka looks delicious, and it’s a relief to finally have something to distract me from the discomfort of the situation.
“ It’s really good,” I say between bites, hoping to fill the silence with some semblance of normalcy.
Andrew mumbles something in response, but I can barely hear him over the sound of my own chewing. I take another bite, trying to focus on the taste of the food rather than the tension in the air.
My mind keeps drifting back to the small packet in my purse, the promise of relief it holds. I’ve become more dependent on drugs over the past year. It feels like I’m losing control, and every day it gets harder to resist. What started as a way to cope for a short while, has turned into a necessity, and I’m scared of where this path is leading me. I fidget with my clothing, the urge to leave growing stronger and stronger.
I force myself to finish my meal, making polite conversation with Andrew as best as I can.
When I’m finally done, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, ignoring his eyes on my back.
My heart is pounding in my chest. The white tile floor seems to sway beneath me as I lock the door behind me. I reach into my purse, fingers trembling as they fumble for the baggy. Just one line , I tell myself, just to take the edge off .
I lean over the sink, my reflection distorted in the mirror. With a shaky hand, I prepare the line and inhale sharply. The familiar rush floods my senses, momentarily drowning out the guilt and anguish clawing at me. I don’t know how much time passes while I let myself float in the euphoria, a moment when everything is okay, everything is bearable and good.
But it fades so quickly, and I crash hard. The emptiness and shame rush in with a vengeance, worse than before. My highs don’t last as long as they used to, leaving me chasing bliss more desperately each time.
What am I doing ? I can’t keep doing this to myself. I think of Andrew , out there, waiting for me. I can’t face him like this.
Panic hits me, and I flush the baggy down the toilet, a futile attempt to erase the evidence of my weakness. I open the door of the bathroom, and there he is, leaning against the opposite wall with that infuriating smirk on his face.
I freeze before trying to brush past him, but he blocks my path, eyes narrowing as they take in my dilated pupils.
“ What were you doing in there?”
“ Nothing ,” I lie, my throat dry and constricted.
His lips widen into a knowing grin, and before I can react, he pins me against the wall, body pressing into mine.
“ You’re lying,” he hisses, his breath hot against my ear. “ I can see it in your eyes.”
Fear wells up inside me, and I push against him, desperate to break free, but he only tightens his grip.
“ Let me go,” I plead, my voice cracking.
He just laughs, the sound echoing in the small space, mocking and cruel.
My vision blurs, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. I’m trapped. Trapped between the wall and Andrew , between guilt and the drugs.
I writhe against him, my movements frantic as I try to break free from his grasp. But Andrew’s hold only tightens, his fingers digging into my arms like claws.
“ You’re a druggy, aren’t you? Do you think I haven’t noticed what you’ve become,” he sneers, his words like venom in my ear.
I shake my head, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “ No , Andrew , please.”
He doesn’t listen. Instead , he leans in closer, his breath hot against my skin as he tries to kiss me. I turn my head away, my stomach churning with revulsion.
“ Stop it,” I whimper.
He ignores me, hands roaming over my body, greedy and possessive. “ I’ve had enough of waiting. And it’s your duty to give me an heir.”
I fight against him, nails scratching at his skin as he slides his hands under my shirt, and I thank myself for not wearing something easily accessible.
“ So , you like it when that fucker Dion chokes you and fucks you against an alley wall, but you can’t do the same for your fiancé?”
My blood runs cold, and a wave of nausea washes over me.
“ Oh , Aria ,” he chuckles, the sound harsh and grating. “ You’re a little poutána for everyone except me.”
I close my eyes, trying to block out the memory of that day behind the café, of Dion’s hands on my skin, his lips on mine. It was a mistake, a moment of weakness I’ve been trying to forget. But now, with Andrew’s words hanging in the air between us, I realize that it’s not something I can just erase.
I struggle to break free, to escape the suffocating grip of his hold. It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe.
Andrew has tried to come onto me before, but never like this. It’s never been this intense or aggressive. Usually , it doesn’t go beyond a few suggestive comments or lingering looks. But this time is different. The change in him is crazy. Ever since he found out about me and Dion , it’s like he’s a completely different person, and it’s unsettling.
Tears well up in my eyes, and with a surge of adrenaline, I summon all my strength and manage to free one arm. In a swift motion, I swing my hand toward him, the force of my slap echoing in the air. He staggers back, a shocked expression flashing across his face as he rubs his cheek.
A cruel smile twists his lips then as he glares at me, his eyes cold and calculating. He dabs at his lips and finds a smear of blood, his sneer deepening.
“ You shouldn’t have done that,” he growls.
Before I can react, he reaches into his waistband and pulls out a knife, the blade glinting in the dim light of the hallway. I gasp as he presses it against my throat, the cold metal sending shivers down my spine.
“ If you put your hands on me again,” he hisses. “ I’m going to give you a reason to cry, bitch.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me as I stare into his eyes. He shoves me away, and I fall to the ground with a loud thump.
I stay on the floor, crying and shaking, for God knows how long. With trembling hands, I reach for my purse beside me and rummage through it until my fingers wrap around the familiar shape of my phone. Relief floods through me as I unlock the screen.
I quickly navigate to my messages, fingers tapping out a text to the one person who always manages to make me feel safe, even when I know I shouldn’t turn to him. It’s a risky move, reaching out to someone who stirs up emotions I’ve tried to bury, but in this moment of vulnerability, he’s the only one I can think of.
I type and delete over and over, unsure what to say, but eventually settle on a hey , simple yet loaded with unspoken words. It’s a silent plea for comfort, for reassurance, even though I know deep down that it’s a dangerous game.
I hit send and wait, heart thudding in my chest. Minutes pass, and still, there’s no reply. Sadness creeps into my chest, mingling with the mess of emotions already present.
I understand, though. I’ve been there, on the other side of the screen, ignoring messages from him for a year. I can’t blame him for not responding, not after the way I shut him out. It’s a bitter pill to swallow— I’m reaping what I sowed.
With a heavy sigh, I text the next best person. My brother.
As I finally push myself off the floor, I tentatively start to wander around the house. There’s a strange stillness in the air, and I can’t help but wonder if Andrew has left me here alone.
I make my way through the hallway and, just as I reach the door to Andrew’s office, I catch a faint murmur.
“ As soon as we’re married, I’ll set the plan in motion.”
Panic grips me. What plan?
Just then, my phone vibrates, and I quickly back away from the door.
Dimo: I’m on my way.
Relief fills me. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.
Everything about Andrew feels off, but one thing is clear: he won’t let anyone get in his way.
I quietly step into the kitchen to grab my things. As I bend down to put on my shoes, Andrew’s voice startles me.
“ Where are you going?”
My hand flies to my chest. “ Home . Dimitri is on his way.”
He crosses his arms with a skeptical look on his face. “ That seems unnecessary. I could’ve taken you.”
And get in the car with you after you sexually assaulted me ? No , thanks.
“ It’s fine. He was already out, anyway,” I lie, and I pray that my brother is close, because every second I spend in Andrew’s presence is a second too long.
Sweat runs down my forehead and I already feel the urge to take the edge off again, but the rest of my stash is at home.
As if summoned, my brother texts me that he’s arrived.
I wiggle my phone in front of Andrew , avoiding his gaze. “ Well , that’s me. I’m going to head out.”
As I’m about to leave, he grabs onto my bicep, hard. I let out a hiss.
“ I’d suggest you keep our business private, Aria ,” he warns, venom lacing his tone. “ Husband -wife confidentiality, you know?” he adds with a wink, and I want to spit in his face for using the line I said the first day we met. At that time, he seemed like a decent human being, and I had faith that we’d be friends, at least. I chuckle inwardly at the thought. Joke’s on me .
I jerk my arm away. “ Then , I’d suggest you keep your hands off me, Andrew .”
“ We’re going to have so much fun,” he says with a devious smirk.
“ Fuck you,” I spit, before running down the driveway to my brother’s car.
When I hop in, Dimitri eyes me with concern. “ What the fuck happened?” He quickly pulls out of the driveway, passing the two guards at the gate. “ Those fuckers almost didn’t let me through.”
“ I hate him, Dimo . I fucking hate him,” I stammer, tears pooling in my eyes.
“ I know. We’ll find a way out of this, Riri .”
I scoff in annoyance. “ That’s what everyone fucking said a year ago, yet I’m still in the same situation. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Dimitri is silent for a few moments. “ I spoke to Dion ,” he then says.
My heart stutters in my chest.
“ What ? When ?”
“ Well , we’ve been keeping in touch for the past year.”
I’m flabbergasted. I had no idea that my brother was even acquainted with Dion , let alone on talking terms. I knew they’d probably cross paths at some point now that my brother is involved in the clan, though I didn’t expect this.
“ He reached out to me over a year ago.”
“ Why didn’t you tell me?” I growl, angry that he’d keep something like this from me for so long. “ I thought we told each other everything.”
“ I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily, Ri ,” he replies, giving me a once over. I scoff.
“ Turns out, he found out our father’s actual plan with Andrew ,” he explains as he weaves through the traffic.
“ What plan?” I ask, now remembering what Andrew said on the phone. Could he have been speaking to my father?
“ Philip is planning on giving Andrew our clan and business when he steps down.”
I notice how Dimitri has started calling him Philip instead of Baba .
I’m shocked, but at this point, I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. Everyone has a hidden agenda these days.
“ What do you mean? You’re the rightful heir. How can he just bypass that?”
Dimitri shrugs his shoulders. “ He can do whatever he wants with his estate. But giving it to a stranger? The malaká thought he could pass a fast one on me,” he grits through his teeth.
“ What did Dion say?”
“ He’s the one who told me the truth. I’ve been working with him ever since to stop it.”
A glimmer of hope shines in my chest, but I squash it down, remembering Andrew’s threat to harm Dimitri and my mother.
“ Is this what you want, though?” It’s clear that Dimo was never made for mob life, but I can’t deny that I’ve noticed a shift in his behavior over the past year. He’s become tougher.
“ It’s not what I initially planned for myself, but I have to take care of you and Mama .”
I nod, understanding his need to protect us. Dimitri might be the baby of the family, but he’s always been protective of us.
I glance out the window, the hum of the engine filling the silence.
“ So , are you going to tell me what happened between you and Dion ?” he asks, and I can hear the smidge of a smirk in his voice.
I fidget with the edge of my shirt, suddenly feeling exposed. How do I even begin to explain the way my stomach still somersaults and my cheeks flush whenever his name is mentioned?
“ I ...um.” I struggle to find the right words. How do I put into words the intensity of feelings I can barely comprehend myself? “ It’s ...complicated,” I finally mumble, hoping that vague answer will suffice.
But my brother isn’t one to be easily deterred. His brow furrows. “ Complicated how?” he presses.
I swallow hard. I can’t tell him the whole truth, especially the bit where Andrew threatened to hurt him, but I’m tired of keeping it in.
“ I really like him, Dimo . But we can’t be together.”
He squints. “ Why not?”
I laugh. “ Seriously ?” I retort, lifting my left hand in the air to show off my engagement ring.
Dimitri lets out a puff of air. “ That’s just a technicality, Riri .”
“ A really fucking big one. How the hell am I supposed to be with another man when I’m getting married to someone else?”
“ Dion had a plan,” Dimo says, in a serious tone.
“ Here we go again with all these plans ,” I utter with a heavy exhale.
“ If you would’ve heard him out at your engagement party, you’d know what I’m talking about,” he argues.
I whip my head around. How the hell does he know about that?
Calling his bluff, I ask, “ What is it, then?”
“ Ah ! That’s not for me to tell, Aria .”
We pull up to our estate, my mind still reeling with questions.
Had Dion actually found a way out, and I abandoned him without giving him a chance?
I remember the look in his eyes when I rejected him, the hurt and confusion. He tried to speak, and I shut him down before he could utter a single word.
Now , I can’t help but wonder what he was trying to tell me. If it would’ve changed anything.