9. Aria
9
ARIA
I f Tito thinks he's going to pull a fast one on my family, he's wrong. I've already told my father what my new husband is planning, the dirty drug deal and moving into Peralta territory. Dad is wise to it, but that doesn't mean he'll be able to do much about it when Tito comes hunting for results. Jasper will have to reach out to his connections in San Francisco to help him.
I sit at the large marble island in Tito's kitchen—well, our kitchen. I've been here five days and I still haven't gotten used to it being my home yet. I don't want it to ever feel like home. Yes, Tito can fuck the living daylights out of me and make me come so hard I piss myself—he's proven that twice now—but that doesn’t mean I'm his property. And it doesn’t mean I'm happy in this arrangement. I can't even call it a marriage anymore. It's not. It's more like prison.
The tea bag has steeped long enough, but I stare at the way it floats in the mug listlessly like a raft on a pool in the summer sun, and I wish I were anywhere but here. My desire to gain information and take Tito down from the inside out isn't going as well as I planned. It's like his home is isolated from his work. Other than a few meetings he's had, ones I've overheard portions of, there is nothing in this home to connect him to the crime syndicate he leads. It's useless.
The only thing I've even found that may be useful is the fact that his younger brother, Carlos, seems all too eager to disrespect him at any turn. I'm sure it's nothing more than a case of sibling rivalry, but there may be a chance for me to twist the knife and help Carlos get what he wants while procuring what I want.
Which is why I'm sitting here now, staring at my tepid tea. I'm waiting for Carlos to come back to this damn kitchen to get another beer. He's been out back with Tito, sitting by the pool and enjoying the evening heat. Three times now, they've ordered me to put on a bathing suit and join them, and I refuse. I won't be paraded around in front of Tito's brother in that slutty scrap of material he calls a bikini, but that doesn’t mean I don't want to speak with Carlos.
I have to reheat the tea in the microwave twice before Carlos comes in. I want it to appear casual, as if I'm only just letting the tea finish steeping before I retreat to my safe place here in this house—the library. I'm fascinated by all the books Tito has, and I’m amazed that a man like him has taken time to preserve literature the way he has. Some things I've learned about him are surprising, to say the least.
"What are you doing here?" Carlos growls as he walks in. "You know my brother wants you out there." He stomps over to the refrigerator and opens it. The bottles and jars in the door shake and rattle under the movement.
"Your brother wants a lot of things he can't have." I pick up the tea bag by the string and dunk it. I'm not even going to drink this drivel, but I have to put on a good show.
Carlos bends and reaches into the fridge and then straightens and turns toward me, letting the door shut. He has an ice-cold beer in hand, which he opens and takes a sip from.
"Yeah, I hear that." Carlos is a large man, larger than Tito. I bet if they were to square off, Tito would have his ass handed to him, but just like in my family, Tito's family operates on a matter of respect. They both honor their father as the leader, and something tells me Daddy Dearest would skin them or disown them if they started shit. They probably learned this the hard way when they were kids.
"You sound bitter…" Here I am, planting seeds like I have a green thumb. I look up at him through my lashes and notice the storm in his eyes. It's always there. It was there the day of our wedding when he watched Tito kiss me at the altar. It was there earlier this week when I snuck up to Tito's den and watched a few moments of his stupid meeting.
"Bitter isn't the word for it." He takes another sip of his beer and then leans forward on the island. The white and black marble is a stark contrast to the bronze of his sun-kissed skin. These Italian men are obsessed with their appearance and it shows.
"Is he a good leader?" I ask, hoping to come across as a curious wife, not an unsuspected double agent. I'm hardly a spy, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
Carlos stands again, squared shoulders, rigid jawline. I see the way he wants to trust me, but he's a trained soldier. "Tito is my older brother. He's blood. That's all I can say." He wants to come across as loyal, but under the surface, I see his wheels turning. He wants that position of leadership, and it's so obvious even Tito probably knows it.
"Oh, come on. You're brothers. I'm sure you've seen him be irresponsible. You really think he is the one who deserves to lead the family?" I pinch the tea bag and the liquid drains out, then I set it on the plate my mug rests on. "You've never once thought the rightful leader of this family should be you?"
"What are you doing, lady? What are you up to?" He walks toward me, looming menacingly over me. I don't flinch or cower. I have no reason to fear him at all. I'm not breaking my marital contract by placing seeds of doubt in Carlos's mind. If Tito can scheme and plot against my family, I have no shame in doing it to him.
"I'm saying, you seem to be the one fit for the job." Not even looking at him, I can sense the room shift. It gets ten degrees hotter, maybe because despite being confident in what I’m doing, I'm starting to sense that I'm treading in shark-infested water.
"Yeah? How so?" Carlos stops, his shadow cast across my cup, and I look up at him.
"Well, you make sense and he makes messes. Isn't that what you told your father the night of our wedding?" He has no idea I overheard that little spat between him and the older Ramiro. "What if we can work together to get you what you want, and me what I want?
There is a long, pregnant pause. He's thinking it over now. I have him right where I want him. I know men like him. He's going to take the bait, even if he doesn’t do it now. His ego is too large to allow Tito to run the show and get all the credit. Carlos isn't happy being second in command. He wants it all, and I know I can convince him to take it.
"And if I said yes, what is it you think I want? And what is it that you want?" He hasn't told me off yet, so that's good. I turn in the seat and look up at his stern expression. It's amazing how much the brothers look alike, though Tito is by far the more handsome of the two. But who knows, maybe Carlos is the smarter one.
"You want the leading role, and I want to go home to my family and for my father to retain full ownership of his businesses—completely bailed out."
I can almost hear the wheels turning in Carlos’s mind. He's thinking of it, but before he can answer, Tito's voice booms through the back door, making me jump in right.
"Fuck! Goddammit! Carlos, we have a problem." His shout is so loud it rattles my nerves, and I turn to look down into the cup again. Focusing on anything besides Tito's anger is what I need to do. I can't let him see me anxious or flustered like this. He'll know I'm up to something.
When he questioned me about whether I had been eavesdropping on his meeting, I was certain he was going to corner me and force me to tell him the truth. That hand around my neck when we fuck won't be so nice if it's there for any other reason. I can't give him any excuse to want to harm me. Tito is strong. He could crush me.
"What the hell?" Carlos barks out, then he turns and walks into the hallway off the back door, meeting Tito as he bursts in. As they walk up the hallway, I hear him shouting about the drug deal.
They can't see my face, and I'm glad. My lips curl into a smile at the mention of his deal being interrupted. Of course it's interrupted. Jasper and I concocted a plan to leak the information to a few friendlies we have on the police force. There was never a chance that deal would go down as Tito planned it to. I won't let his drugs flood the market and create the "problem" to which he could provide the solution.
Yes, I heard every single word of that meeting and raced up to the library before he ever suspected a thing. Or maybe he suspected it. Maybe he still does, but he can't prove it. Now he's irate and screaming about revenge and finding out who did what, and I pick up the tepid tea and sip it, grimacing at how awful it tastes.
When the sound of Tito's shouts fades, I pull my phone out and call Jasper. I want someone to celebrate with. This tiny victory is mine, and while my brother has no clue that I'm scheming to get Tito to back out of this arrangement, he can appreciate that I'm a troublemaker. Besides, it saved my father this time, though next time, I may not be so lucky.
"Aria, how are you?" Jasper says after answering on the third ring.
"Big brother," I say, grinning. "It's done. It worked." I am positively giddy, bouncing in my seat so much that the tea sloshes on the marble and I have to grab a paper towel to wipe it up.
"Slow down, Ari. You know you have to be careful. Your husband is a dangerous criminal. Your overexuberance will get you caught." Jasper sounds like a parent, not a partner in crime, besides the fact that as the heir to my father's throne, he is Tito's counterpart. As if I'm unaware what my own brother is capable of. I roll my eyes.
"God, just celebrate with me. And don’t call that bastard my husband. He is nothing more than a contracted relationship." I wipe up the tea, but as I say the words, my gut churns. It's not altogether true. When Tito slides into me and makes me look him in the eye as I come, I feel something. There is some sort of sick fuckery that goes on in my mind, connecting me to him, and I hate that part of me.
"Well, don't be so quick to claim the victory. We won a small battle because your ear was tuned in. If this continues to happen, he'll become secretive. His little plots against our family will be carried out without your ever knowing of them. Then how will we defend ourselves?" Jasper asks, and I already know.
"I'm going to ask Sergeant Nix to get me a few bugs to plant on him, in his car, around this house. I can have access to take down other deals too, not just ones that pertain to our family. I have to make him look bad in front of his father." The plan begins to come together in my mind seamlessly now. If Carlos is on board, all we have to do is make Tito look foolish in front of his father. Mr. Ramiro will choose Carlos to lead the family instead of Tito, and all I have to do is get my "husband" to fuck me so hard he leaves bruises on my neck, then claim he tried to kill me.
I know it will work.
"Aria, you have to be careful. You don't know who you’re dealing with." Jasper's warning comes in hushed tones, and I get the feeling my parents are nearby, or at least one of them.
"Don't worry, Jasper. I know exactly what I’m doing. And I'm going to do it right. Hopefully soon, too." The shouting has started again, in the other room. Tito is furious. "Listen, I have to go. I have to hide or something. I'll call you later."
I hang up knowing my overly concerned brother is probably worried sick. It just shows how close we really are. He cares about me so much, he would storm the castle and save me, but this time, I'm saving him and myself. All of us, really. And I'm not going to stop until my job is finished.