3. Aria
Chapter three
Aria
When I get my hands on the bastard who did this to Dad, I will make sure justice is served. I swear.
Placing a hand solemnly on the bandage wrapped across his chest, I turn the back of my palm over on his forehead to see if he has a high temperature. He doesn’t, but there’s an undertone of warmth in his skin, like a temperature is warming up.
I release a deep breath. The pungent smell of antiseptic is upsetting my nostrils, and the soft beeps from the machinery he is connected to bring back the nostalgic feeling of being with my mom in the hospital during her last days.
My heart wrenches when I retract my hand and trail the burns on Dad’s body. It’s almost everywhere — one side of his face, his arms, hands, and chest. My eyes start to water. But at least he looks better than he did six days ago when I first received the news.
It would probably have been worse than it is now if Dad hadn’t found his way out of the car. I flick away, sweat trickling down my brow, as I shove away the thought that it could have escalated into third-degree burns and not the minor, second-degree burns he escaped with. Although that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have bruises and broken ribs from the impact of the explosion.
I don’t stop tears as they cascade silently down my cheeks. With Mom and my brother gone, Dad is all I’ve got, and I can’t afford to lose him, too.
“Hey, Aria,” his voice is hoarse, and the hand he lifts to caress my face is trembling as he tries to rise from the bed, but I’m relieved that he is not fatally hurt.
“Dad!” I lower him back onto the pillows, adjusting his pillows for the umpteenth time to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.
“Hey, hey, easy, okay?” his eyes crease at the corners, narrowing with concern. I can’t hold it in any longer. The tears come pouring from my eyes in torrents, and all I can do is grip my chest, trying to contain the dull ache that’s threatening to run me insane.
“Oh, dear…” he struggles against the head of the bed, reaching out to wipe the tears off my face with his thumb. “Aria, I’m okay. I hate to see you cry, you know that. Right?”
I bob my head up and down, snatching up a sheet of tissue paper and blowing catarrh furiously into it. The loud, irritating sound is probably not what Dad needs to deal with, but I don’t see beyond my feelings, at least not for now.
“Which of those fucking mafia families did this?”
“Language, young lady. Besides, we spoke about this when you first came here,” his face is squeezed into a scowl, yet his voice holds a hint of levity.
“I’m sorry, Dad, but that was the day of the accident, and you were in absolutely no shape to give me a definite answer. I know it was Giovanni, right? I mean, your car didn’t just get faulty and cause the leak in the fuel tank on its own. Someone definitely orchestrated that explosion and did it such that when you turned on the ignition, it would explode. Who else would do that but those miscreants who work for Giovanni?”
“Aria!” he sputters into a coughing episode, interrupting my rambling. I dash to the water dispenser, grab a paper cup, and fetch some of the warm water into it.
“Here, here,” I place the cup on his lips and when he has had a generous sip, I help him back to his previous position.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. I didn’t mean to rile him up like that, but if we don’t identify the exact hitman and they know Dad’s still alive, there might be a comeback before we can nab them.
“I know you’re worried about me, but I’m the Deputy Chief, Kid. I’ve been through worse.”
I curl my lips and flash a fake sneer. How dare he try to calm me down? He releases a deep breath and takes my hand in his.
“I’ll be more careful, okay? This…” his voice hitches, and I grab the cup of water again, fearing he might go into another coughing fit. “This is part of the job. My friend, Connor, got shot in the back one time, and we all thought he wouldn’t make it…”
“Dad!”
I don’t expect him to explode with laughter, but since he does, my chest rumbles with mirth, and I soon join him.
“Seriously, Dad, justice needs to be served.” My abrupt switch from laughter to dead serious tells him that I wasn’t joking. “I mean, Mom died from cancer when I was seven. Then Mario was killed by some politician who thinks the issue is over now. Am I going to lose the rest of my family, too?”
More tears seep out from the corners of my eyes as I recount how I tragically lost almost all my family. My brother…the man I looked up to and loved so much, was murdered five years ago. He’s the main reason I’m studying law, and regardless of my efforts, I’ve still not been able to bring his murderer to justice.
And now, it seems Dad—
“I understand your concern, Aria, but my men are already looking into it at the office, so they’ll come to book soon.”
“No, Dad. I’m going to look into it myself! It’s been almost a week already, and they don’t even have any leads yet. I’m not taking any chances on this one.”
“So what do you want to do? Knock on the door of every mafia lord in town and demand a confession?”
I know he’s trying to dissuade me from finding the culprit. He prefers me to focus on my life…my work, and not carry his burdens. But I work at the DA’s office, and I can get information.
“No.” I stand up as a brilliant idea hits my mind.
“Uh-oh, when one of your lips is curled up like that, I know you’re up to no good.”
Surprisingly, a deep, belly-shaking laugh seizes through me. Dad joins in, too, releasing a chuckle that’s half hoarse and half wheeze.
His face contorts into a wince, and he wraps his hands around his ribs.
“Are you okay?” I ask, roaming his frail figure to see if there’s any cause for alarm.
“Oh, don’t worry. My ribs hurt a little when I laugh. I’m okay now.”
“I’m so sorry, Dad.” I run my palms softly on his forearm to soothe his pain.
“Dad, I have this friend in the FBI. He works with the crime investigation unit. I can call in a favor. His team would be faster and more effective. No offense, but I’ve given your team almost a week now, and they couldn’t come up with anything.”
I pick up my maroon purse, the one he gifted me when I turned twenty, and lower myself until I can wrap my arms around his bandages.
“I’ll get them, Dad. I promise.”
“Be careful, Aria. I love you.”
I blow a final kiss in his direction and walk out of his hospital room. Those bastards will never see me coming.
***
The first day I met Dennis Finnegan, I thought I had come across the most timid male in existence. He kept pushing his over-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and chuckling nervously at every single word I said, but the minute he opened his mouth to speak to me about crime, I knew I had met a genius.
I almost clicked on the ‘block’ button when he called me one evening and told me he could do just about anything for me because he had a crush on me, but I decided against it.
Thankfully, I didn’t block him, and that has given me the privilege to walk straight into his office ?within the FBI headquarters, mind you? at 2 p.m., when every other person waiting to see him has to sign in with his secretary.
“Hey! Come on in!” He pushes his glasses up his nose, exposing his entire mouth in a grin.
A man is sitting across his table, but I don’t mind. If it isn’t important, Dennis would send him right out to attend to me. Especially since I’m planning on tucking loose strands of my hair while speaking with him and exaggerating the blink of my lashes while at it.
“Hey, Dennis,” I open my arms to fit into his and catch a glimpse of the other man’s face just as Dennis is patting my back.
Oh, it’s him... again!
What the fuck is Elio Donatelli doing in one of the FBI’s lead investigators’ offices? He’s sitting there in all his glory, tense, rigid, and eyes burning into mine. Or could it probably have something to do with the assassination I overheard him talk about at that corporate gala?
I let out a soft gasp and turn to look at him once again. I can see from the way his lips lift with distaste that he is in no way pleased to see me either.
Dennis catches my glare and clears his throat. “Oh, sorry. I’m yet to introduce you…”
“No!” we both chorus, then turn our faces away from each other. I turn away from him because he’s a murderer, and I regret having had anything to do with him. I mean, I heard him ask for someone to be assassinated.
Dennis clears his throat again. “You should at least say hi to my guest, Aria. Please. It’s rude if you don’t,” Dennis says, that annoying half-smile of his fixated on Elio’s face.
“We meet again.” He runs me over with his eyes, stopping briefly at the neckline of my low-cut blouse, then proceeding lower until I can almost feel his tongue on my pussy.
Every day, I’ve regretted what happened between us that night, and it can never happen again. The man is an assassin. And more than twice my age, for goodness’ sake. He’s old enough to be my father. Thank God I stopped before fully giving into him that night.
Well, why the fuck can’t he stop staring at me now?
There is a sudden throbbing between my legs, and I suddenly find myself turning away from him and hurrying out of the office.
Aria Abruzzi, get a hold of yourself!
I bite down on my lower lip, not releasing my grip until the throbbing underneath me has reduced to a dull tingle. My reason for being here, at the FBI headquarters, is for something beyond frolicking with this conniving son-of-a-bitch.
You have so many important things to think about, Aria, and a 7-inch cock isn’t one of them , I remind myself.
“Ugh!” I yell, flinging my purse across the ladies’ room where I ended up.
“Are you okay over there?” A lady calls from one of the stalls. I release a deep sigh, affirm that I am, and pick my purse right up.
Elio Donatelli would not get in my head. Not today when I have to find out if Dennis has any leads on my late brother, Mario, and ask for another favor regarding my Dad’s case.
I hold my head up high and walk back to Dennis’ office, the sound of my block heels echoing through the hallways and boosting my confidence.
Thankfully, when I get back, Elio is no longer in the room, so I walk in and give Dennis my biggest grin.
“Hey, are you okay?” I can sense his concern from the dip in his voice.
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s okay. I actually have a meeting with some of the other detectives...”
“This won’t take long, I promise. I just want to know if you’ve been able to find any leads regarding my brother...” My fingers go up to tuck in a nonexistent loose strand.
“I’m really pressed for time, Aria.” That annoyingly polite smile is still stuck on his lips as he grabs his keys.
“Alright, I just want to ask for a quick favor then. It’s for my dad, who was recently attacked,” I quickly add in.
He lifts his wrist to his eyes and shakes his head, “I’m in charge of this meeting, Aria. I can’t afford to be late today. I’ll see you later, and I promise I’ll help you out,” he says. I give him another polite smile and walk out of his office, the sides of my face a pale shade of red.
Once again, I’ve allowed that menace called Elio to get in my way.
***
As I step out of Finnegan’s office, adjusting the strap of my bag, my eyes land on Elio. He’s standing near the far end of the corridor, a phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, speaking in a low tone. I can’t make out the words at first, but there’s a powerful authority in the way he holds himself that makes my breath catch.
My legs rise to my tippy toes as I take a few steps closer.
“You should know better than trying to negotiate with me, Cortez.” His voice is calm but edged very firm. “I am the don. La mia parola è legge qui (My word is law here).”
My stomach tightens. What the fuck! Did he just say he’s a ‘mafia don’?
Well, thankfully, he hasn’t noticed me. Clutching my bag closer, I turn around and keep walking, my heart pounding a little harder now. Whatever this conversation is...I know it’s dangerous. And it’s happening right in the middle of the FBI headquarters.
My phone suddenly vibrates in my hand. The unexpected jolt causes it to clatter out of my hands, landing only a few feet from where he is standing.
Oh, God! Please… not again!
I am torn between running for my dear life from this incredibly sexy man, who I just found out is a murderous mafia don, and picking up my phone before he gets to it.
I figure, either way, I’m screwed.
I cannot tell if my heart is racing from fear or desire as he turns back and almost closes the distance between us. I open my mouth, but my words are scurrying away from my mind like rats deserting a sinking ship. He scoffs, grabbing my goddamn phone that kept ringing in his hand, and silences it.
“I knew you were trouble from the minute I set eyes on you. Now, tell me, how best do we resolve this?” My mouth goes dry as I look into his eyes. They are darker than I remember them to be. I can feel the hotness of his breath on my nose.
Fuck! Elio Donatelli, the dangerously charming so-called business mogul, is actually a mafia don.
“I’ll call the cops.” My frown deepens, and his stare turns deadly as he grips my phone even harder in his hand, his knuckles now all white. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t call the cops on you right now,” I sneer, mimicking the tone he’d used when he asked a question earlier.
He takes one more step towards me, now standing as close as it gets, lips tightening into a thin line, “You’re playing with fire, Princess. And you don’t even know that you’re about to burn yourself.”
His breath is hot against my face, eyes boring holes into my head. His lips are only a second’s breath away from mine. If this man so much as lowers his head, he’s going to lock me in a kiss.
But then?still holding my gaze?he grabs my hand, puts the phone in my palm, and just turns around and leaves without another word!
Damn! Aria Abruzzi, you’re definitely in deep shit this time.