Chapter 5
LILY
“No.” That's the first word that falls from my lips when Ara suggests that Lorenzo act as my boyfriend to be my personal security. I glance in his direction as he stands against the wall. When I meet his dark-brown eyes, which are already locked on me, I’m quick to avert my gaze, shutting down all the rising questions I have about this enigma of a man.
I take another sip of the foul-tasting liquor.
I don’t know what it is. I asked the bartender to give me something that would make me forget.
He gave me an apologetic grimace and said, "I have just the stuff."
Ara scans the room, most likely seeing who else is in the hotel bar at three in the morning, but we’re the only ones here. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here or how many drinks I’ve had.
There was an array of dresses to choose from in the suite, and I couldn’t help but think about how prepared the Armanis are. Most likely because Ara and I are similar in size. The dark dress is so different from anything I’d ordinarily wear myself, yet it seems fitting for my mood.
When I finally broke through the surface and came back to some form of reality, Ara joined me to explain that not only does her husband run the Italian Mafia, but due to a case of mistaken identity, I might’ve been targeted instead of her.
Now she's running through a contingency plan to keep me "safe" until they’ve dug up the person behind the attack.
Having Lorenzo be my bodyguard and fake boyfriend is the worst plan.
Ever. In fact, I’m still not entirely sure how to process all of this.
It’s one thing to be targeted and almost killed.
But then to be told that my best friend is not only involved with the Mafia but married to its leader, and I’m in danger by association and mistaken identity?
No. That’s something I can’t comprehend right now.
I take another harsh swallow of the vile drink.
I should have better sense to not want anything to do with this, with Ara and her involvement with the Mafia, but I naturally revolt against the idea. Maybe my loyalty is part of my stupidity, or maybe it doesn’t change the fact that she’s my friend.
I’m a positive person, but surely, even I have my limit as to how much I’m supposed to numbly believe or agree to. Suddenly, being told the best plan of action is to have a bodyguard and that my life might still be in danger all feels far-fetched. It’s a reality I don’t want to consider.
“It’s the surest way to keep you safe if you want to continue with your normal day-to-day life,” Ara pushes gently.
“My normal day-to-day life,” I say, pondering what my usual life looked like before this. How do I even separate the two? She winces and makes a pointed look at the drink, and I’m quick to move it away so she can’t reach it. It’s snatched out of my hand from behind.
“Hey!” I yell, and when I turn, my face practically slams into a muscular chest because of how close Lorenzo stands behind me. His glare is challenging, those dark-brown eyes almost scolding, and I look away, unable to meet his gaze, too frightened by what I might find.
A killer?
Attraction?
Memories of flames catching on trees, and the smell of burning flesh?
I huff and flop back into my chair with my arms crossed over my chest, trying to push all of these bubbling thoughts away.
Okay, I’ve had a lot to drink. I’m not handling any of this well.
Maybe I’m even being unreasonable right now, but considering the circumstances, I don’t care.
“I never asked to be caught up in this,” I grumble, and when I look at Ara, guilt floods me.
I know she’s never been one to openly express her feelings, but I never thought it was because of such a monumental secret.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about any of this sooner.
I just…” She hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty marring her features.
“I wasn’t sure if you would want to remain my friend.
And your friendship is important to me,” she says earnestly.
“It just became too difficult to ever bring up organically, and I thought if you did know this about me, maybe you’d be wise to walk away. ”
Her shoulders sag, almost in defeat. It’s not often I see Ara vulnerable like this, and I can’t help but sympathize with her.
No matter what she’s told me, she still appears the same to me, and I don’t know if that makes me a fool or if this is what true friendship is about.
You’re together through thick and thin, right? But this is on a whole different level.
“It’s a lot to take in,” I admit as I glance at my feet. “I need to understand everything better before you ask this of me. It doesn’t even sound like I have a choice.”
She cringes at the last part because the reality is, I don’t.
I’ve wound up in a situation I can’t get myself out of, and I still haven’t had the time to process it.
I’m trying to think straight, but the alcohol has me spinning in circles, doing exactly what it was supposed to.
I just don’t feel like myself right now.
“Luca is on a jet back to Italy now, to set everything back into place. But with that, we need to make sure we’re safe here in New York.
Depending on who is behind the attack, they could reach as far as here.
And I’m not leaving your safety to chance.
They know what you look like, that you’re associated with me.
I don’t want anything to happen to you. Especially because of me,” she adds quietly at the end.
The remaining bit of fight drains its way out of me as I sigh. I don’t want to see Ara like this. I know I should be more concerned for my own safety, but I’m still in disbelief. This is just a security measure, right? Surely, no one is really coming for me?
At my very core, I don’t want to lose my friendship with Ara. I absolutely adore our relationship, but finding out I may not know as much about her as I thought still hurts.
“How did you even end up marrying a Mafia boss?” I ask, still trying to come to terms with this revelation and dark secret. I knew Luca Armani had an air about him, but lethal and all underworld-like? Nope, I’ve definitely been living a sheltered life.
I look back at the empty bar, wishing my drink was still there. I throw a glare in Lorenzo's direction. He’s returned to standing against the wall, the drink miraculously gone. He seems unfazed by my attempted stink eye as he watches us.
How did I ever find him attractive? Did I really think he was simply a business friend of Luca's? I’m such an idiot.
Ara seems conflicted as to how she should answer, and I remain silent, waiting.
Usually, I’d say she doesn't have to tell me if she doesn't want to, or something to that effect, but this time I need answers. Ones that will probably need to be repeated tomorrow, because if I don’t wake up from this nightmare, I’m certainly waking up with a hangover.
Ara sighs, and her hand goes to her stomach. “I don’t know if you’ll still want to be my friend if you know about all the awful things I’ve done.”
There’s more stuff?
Do I want to know? Will this change us going forward?
But I’m sick of everyone tiptoeing around me.
People only tell me what they want to, and everyone keeps each other at arm's length in the wealthy social circles I grew up in. I thought Ara and I were different than those people, but maybe her reasoning isn't what I think it is. Shouldn’t I want to know more about someone I consider one of my best friends, even if it’s not all flowery? Isn’t that being real?
When she sees my determined expression, expecting her to continue, she uncomfortably shifts on her stool and nods.
“Right. Let me try to shorten it, but what I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else. Please, Lily, I’m not saying that as some Mafia wife bullshit but as a friend. It’s pretty damning.”
“I would say so, given I was almost run down by a car, wearing nothing but a bikini. But, hey, if this still isn’t a dream, then here we are,” I say as I casually shrug.
She seems a little shocked at first, and I sigh, defeated.
Okay, maybe I crack a few unsolicited dry jokes when I’ve had a few drinks.
“That’s a fair call,” she says, thanking the bartender who walks over with two glasses of water.
Damn it. That's the last thing I want right now, even though I know I’m probably better for it.
She waits until the bartender is out of earshot.
“When I was a child, my mother was murdered in front of me.” My jaw drops, but I’m quick to bring the water to my lips to cover most of my shock.
I didn’t know her mother was killed in front of her.
The incident of her mother being murdered in a home invasion was publicly known, but Ara never spoke about it.
“I made it my life's mission to find the person who did it. I discovered my father was involved in an underhanded business agreement. He knowingly allowed that night to happen. So, I played obedient daughter, slowly growing my influence to run one of his companies, Cleo, temporarily here in Manhattan. I put myself into a position where I worked the social circles during the day so I could stalk and monitor the Mafia family involved in that business transaction. I tried to avoid having direct involvement with Luca because I was aware of his… power. I also knew if I got too close, there was a high chance I’d be killed for it. But it became this obsession. I had to avenge my mother and free myself,” she says, as if in a daydream, staring off at something I can't see. Then again, I can’t comprehend the horror of what she saw as a child.
Somehow, it puts what I witnessed in Italy into some twisted perspective.