30. Aria
30
ARIA
W hat is my father doing here? Even more, what the fuck is Andrew doing here with him?
“ I think someone forgot my invite to the happy celebration,” my baba says with a smirk.
I want to make sense of it all, but the only thing I can focus on is Dion’s possessive frame next to me.
I haven’t seen him in a year, and my feelings haven’t changed. I’m still consumed by him.
His toast during dinner made my heart leap into my throat. I knew he was talking to me through his speech, his words carefully chosen, each syllable resonating with unspoken emotions.
But I can’t do anything about it. I’m stuck. Stuck in this hell hole. Stuck in my engagement.
I glance up at Andrew . He’s staring at me with a vicious smile.
Then it clicks. Shit . Dion . He’s right next to me.
My heart starts fluttering erratically. My chest heaves. Andrew is going to think that I’m engaging with Dion when I haven’t even uttered a word to him. Oh my God . I’m going to pay for this.
Andrew has tried over and over for a year to catch me still talking to Dion . To no avail.
I subtly glance over at Dion and he looks like a kettle about to explode. His fists are clenched so tight his knuckles have gone white, and the strength of his death stare directed at Andrew is almost palpable. The two men are locked in a silent battle, and I’m caught in their path, a pawn in their twisted game.
The room is stifling. I can barely breathe. My hands are trembling behind my back, hidden from view.
I’m snapped back to reality when my father speaks again.
“ Enjoying your little party, are we?” His voice cuts through the thick tension. The Godfathers all reach for their weapons, without drawing them.
My father pulls out a chair at the other end of the table. “ It seems like my invitation got lost in the mail.”
“ Tell me what you want and get the fuck out,” Evander seethes.
“ Isn’t that a little rude, Diávolos ?” my father sneers. “ Congratulations , by the way,” he says, pouring himself a glass of ouzo. “ If you thought we wouldn’t find out about your little celebration, you’re not as smart as you appear to be.”
“ If you know anything, it’s because I let you find out. Do you really think you just stumbled across that information?” Evander retorts.
“ Whatever ,” my father dismisses. “ I want to know why Peter and I weren’t invited to this dinner, considering his beloved daughter was getting married, and my own daughter is one of the guests.” He looks over to me and I stiffen. From the corner of my eye, I notice Dion leaning into me, like a bodyguard ready to shield me from my father.
“ Don’t be stupid, Kastellanos . You know very well that your boss has gone into hiding. And I have no doubt he sent you here to do his bidding. You and Peter no longer have the right to sit among us,” Evander says.
“ I beg to differ!” my baba suddenly shouts, slamming his glass down on the table. “ We deserve to know what you’re plotting. Especially if it involves our business!”
Evander’s gaze narrows on my father. “ I must say I’m very disappointed at your sheer audacity to grace us tonight. You no longer have any right to be here, even more so considering you’re not a Godfather . What makes the situation even worse is your unapologetic association with the Sisterhood .”
A chill runs down my spine at the mention of the Sisterhood . At how deeply entrenched my father was in it.
Not only were his traces all over the establishment, but he was also an active participant, running underground bordellos, using girls from the institution. He and his men preyed on those young girls, kidnapped them, trained them to be sex slaves, child brides, prostitutes.
My stomach clenches tightly at the thought.
I haven’t been able to look my father in the eyes since Angelica told me all about what she and Evan discovered.
“ To have the nerve to walk into a room full of your enemies speaks volumes about your obliviousness and lack of respect for the delicate balance that holds our partnerships together,” Evan continues. “ So , I suggest you reconsider your decision and get the fuck out, Philip .”
My father looks around the table, realizing he has no support. “ This isn’t the end of this, Evander .” He takes a last swig of his drink. “ And you .” He points to me with a snarl, and I wince. “ We’re going to have a talk when you get home.” His tone is stern, disapproving.
Dion nearly growls at him, moving in front of me, creating a barrier with his body.
Andrew is the last to leave the restaurant, nodding toward the doors and giving me a knowing smile as he walks out. His eyes are cold, calculating. My stomach churns with dread. I know what’s coming.
I fall back down on my chair, trying to calm my breaths.
Dion hasn’t moved. His hand reaches out, a hesitant, almost imperceptible gesture. My fingers itch to reach back, to feel his touch, to draw strength from him. But I can’t. I pull my hand away, placing it firmly on my lap.
“ I’m sorry,” I whisper. That’s all I can manage. Dion’s jaw tightens. He looks away, the pain in his posture mirroring my own. This is our reality.
“ Take care, Aria ,” he says softly. His voice is strained, holding back so much. I nod, and he walks off, back straight, his strides purposeful. My heart breaks a little more with each step he takes away from me.
I quickly hug Angelica goodbye and head out, where Andrew is waiting for me by his car. I force myself to move, to walk toward him. Each step is a betrayal of my heart, a reminder of the prison I’m in.
His face is a storm as he towers over me, his voice a low, controlled growl. “ Why the fuck were you sitting next to Dion at the party, Aria ?” His anger sends a shiver down my spine.
“ I didn’t mean to,” I stammer. “ He sat next to me on his own. I didn’t even say a word to him.”
Andrew’s eyes narrow, and he steps closer. “ Bullshit ,” he spits. “ You looked cozy enough. Have you been in contact with him?” His tone is sharp, accusatory.
“ No ,” I whisper, shaking my head. “ I swear I haven’t.” My heart races, hands trembling at my sides.
Without warning, Andrew’s hand shoots out, grabbing me by the neck. He slams me against the car, the metal biting into my back. Pain shoots through me, but I can’t make a sound, my breath caught in my throat.
“ Don’t lie to me, Aria ,” he hisses, his grip tightening. “ You remember what I said would happen if you crossed me, the threat I made against your family, don’t you?”
I nod frantically, tears welling in my eyes. “ I remember,” I croak.
Andrew’s grip loosens just enough for me to gasp for air, but his hand remains firmly around my throat. “ Good ,” he says, his voice dangerously calm. “ Because if I find out you’re lying, if I find out you’ve been in contact with Dion , you know what will happen.”
I nod again, my head swimming with fear. “ I won’t,” I manage to say.
He releases me suddenly, and I collapse against the car, coughing and rubbing my sore neck. Andrew steps back, his eyes still locked onto me, as if daring me to defy him.
“ See that you don’t,” he says coldly, turning away and leaving me trembling and breathless.
He straightens out his jacket. “ Ready to go, darling?” His voice is smooth, sickeningly sweet. A stark contrast from his behavior a minute ago. I force a smile, playing the part.
I slip into the car, the weight of the night settling over me.
As we drive away, I steal one last glance at the restaurant.
Dion is standing outside, smoking a cigarette as he watches us leave. Did he see what just happened? Our eyes meet for a brief, agonizing moment.
Then , he’s gone.