Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
ARIA
I'd successfully avoided Kai for exactly forty-eight hours, and I was starting to think I deserved some kind of award for that achievement.
Forty-eight hours of ducking into rooms when I heard his footsteps. Forty-eight hours of eating meals when I knew he'd be busy. Forty-eight hours of pretending I didn't feel his eyes on me every time we were in the same space.
Forty-eight hours of lying to myself that I wasn't constantly thinking about that kiss in my bedroom.
Then Don Salvatore summoned me to his study, and my little bubble of denial popped spectacularly.
The walk from my room to his office felt like a death march. Mrs. Rossi accompanied me, chattering about something I couldn't focus on, her kind face doing nothing to settle the dread coiling in my stomach.
She knocked on the heavy oak door.
"Enter."
One word. That's all it took for my skin to crawl.
Mrs. Rossi gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder and disappeared, leaving me alone with the man who expected me to become his obedient third wife.
Third time's the charm, right? Except the first two were dead, so maybe not.
"Aria. Sit."
I sat in the chair across from his desk, keeping my hands folded in my lap like the perfect mafia princess I'd been trained to be. Back straight. Eyes down. The picture of submission.
Inside, I was imagining all the ways this conversation could go wrong.
Salvatore stood, moved around the desk with that predatory grace that made my fight-or-flight instincts scream. He perched on the edge of his desk directly in front of me, too close, invading my space in a way that was absolutely intentional.
"I'm leaving in two hours for Chicago. Business that requires my personal attention. I'll be gone approximately a month, possibly longer."
A month. A month without him here. The relief was so intense I almost smiled.
"While I'm gone, you will follow certain rules.
Non-negotiable rules that, if broken, will have consequences you won't enjoy.
" His voice was pleasant. Conversational.
Like he was discussing the weather instead of my imprisonment.
"You will not leave this estate under any circumstances.
You will not make phone calls without Kai's explicit permission.
You will spend your time with Mrs. Rossi, learning how to properly run a household of this size.
You will study Italian since half of my business associates speak it and my wife needs to be able to converse intelligently.
You will prepare yourself to fulfill your duties as my wife. "
Every word made my skin crawl. Every sentence was a chain being wrapped around my neck.
He reached out, took my hand in his. His skin was cool. Dry. The touch of a corpse.
"You are young. Inexperienced. But that's exactly why you'll make an excellent wife.
You can be molded. Shaped into exactly what I need.
" His thumb brushed across my knuckles and I fought not to flinch.
"My first wife was too independent. Thought she could question my decisions.
She learned otherwise, but by then it was too late.
My second wife was weak. Couldn't handle the realities of this life.
You, however, you're smart. You understand what's required of you. "
I wanted to rip my hand away. Wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of his "requirements." Wanted to scream that I'd rather die than let him touch me.
Instead, I nodded. "I understand, Don Salvatore."
"Good." His grip tightened slightly. "One more thing. I expect a virgin on our wedding night. Purity is important in a wife. It shows respect. Self-control. All the qualities I value."
Oh god.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
I wasn't a virgin. Kai had made absolutely certain of that two weeks ago when he'd—
I kept my face blank. Neutral. The perfect mask I'd spent eighteen years perfecting.
"Of course, Don Salvatore. I understand completely."
"Excellent." He finally released my hand and I resisted the urge to wipe it on my dress. "Kai will be in charge while I'm gone. He'll ensure you follow these rules. If you have any problems, any concerns, you bring them to him. He answers to me, and you answer to him. Clear?"
"Crystal clear."
"Then you're dismissed. I have preparations to make before I leave."
I stood, managed to walk to the door without running, and made it exactly three steps into the hallway before my legs started shaking.
A virgin. He expected a virgin.
I wasn't a virgin. I was so spectacularly not a virgin that if there was an opposite of virgin—like, aggressively deflowered—that would be me.
And in three months, on our wedding night, he was going to know. He was going to know I'd lied. That I'd been with someone else. And then what? Would he kill me?
The panic attack hit fast and hard. My vision tunneled. My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe.
A hand landed on my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Whoa. Easy. It's just me."
Lia. Thank god, it was just Lia.
She steered me away from her father's study, down the hallway, into her bedroom. Closed and locked the door behind us.
"Breathe, Aria. Come on, in through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it. You're okay."
I wasn't okay. I was so far from okay that okay was a distant memory from a better life.
But I followed her instructions anyway. Breathed. Counted. Focused on not completely losing my mind in front of the one friend I had in this house.
"What did he say to you?" Lia's voice was tight with controlled anger. "What did my father say that made you look like you're about to pass out?"
"Nothing. It was nothing. Just... rules. About while he's gone."
"Rules." She didn't believe me. "My father doesn't give rules that make people have panic attacks unless they're particularly horrible rules. What did he threaten you with?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Aria—"
"He's gone in two hours. That's what matters. Two hours and we don't have to see him for a month." I forced a smile. "That's good news, right? A whole month without his cold eyes and creepy voice and those threats disguised as expectations."
Lia's expression softened. "You're right.
A whole month of freedom. Or at least, as much freedom as we can get in this prison.
" She moved to her closet, rummaging around until she emerged with a bottle of wine.
"Which means we should absolutely celebrate his departure the second his car leaves the property. "
"It's two in the afternoon."
"And your point is?" She grinned. "Come on. My father is leaving. That's cause for day drinking if I've ever heard one."
She wasn't wrong.
We waited until we heard the cars leave. Watched from Lia's window as the convoy of black SUVs disappeared down the long driveway. The second they were out of sight, Lia popped the wine cork.
"To temporary freedom and absent fathers!"
I took the glass she offered. "To survival."
"That too."
The wine was expensive. Smooth. Probably cost more than my entire wardrobe back home. We drank it like it was cheap beer at a college party, sprawled across Lia's massive bed, talking about everything and nothing.
Books we loved. Music that made us feel something. Dreams we'd probably never get to live.
"I wanted to go to college." Lia was on her third glass, her words slightly slurred.
"Like, a real college. With dorms and terrible cafeteria food and professors who don't care if you're mafia royalty.
I wanted to study art history. Spend four years learning about dead painters and pretending I was normal. "
"That's exactly what I wanted." The admission slipped out before I could stop it. "Papa was going to let me apply. Before... before everything."
"Before he arranged your marriage to my father."
"Before he died." The words hurt to say. "I asked him to find another way. Asked him to call off the engagement. And he was going to meet with your father when it happened."
Lia's hand found mine. Squeezed. "That's not your fault. You couldn't have known what would happen."
"Feels like it is."
"Feelings lie sometimes." She took another sip of wine, her expression distant. "My mom used to tell me that. Before she died."
There was something in the way she said it. Something careful. Like she was testing whether I could be trusted with more.
I didn't push. If Lia wanted to talk about her mother, she would. If not, I wouldn't force it.
"What was she like? Your mom?"
Lia's face softened. "Kind. Too kind for this life, probably. She loved books and gardens and music. Used to play piano for hours. Made this house feel less like a prison and more like a home." She paused. "She died when Kai and I were just kids. It was... hard. Losing her changed everything."
The pain in her voice was real and raw. I squeezed her hand back.
"I'm sorry. Losing a parent is... there's no word for it."
"No. There really isn't." She shook her head, clearly not wanting to dwell. "But hey, at least we have each other now, right? Two girls trapped in the same nightmare. We might as well be friends through it."
"I'd like that. Being friends."
And I meant it. For the first time since Mama died, I felt like I had someone who understood. Someone who got what it was like to be powerless. To be trapped. To be counting down days until you could breathe again.
By the time Lia passed out—lightweight, apparently—it was evening. I tucked her under a blanket, cleaned up the wine glasses, and slipped out of her room.
The house felt different without Salvatore. Less oppressive. Like the walls themselves could breathe easier without his presence suffocating everything.
I wandered aimlessly, not ready to go back to my room. Not ready to be alone with my thoughts.
The library called to me. I'd noticed it during Kai's tour but hadn't explored yet. Now seemed like a good time.