3. Aria
3
ARIA
" Y es, Papa." I kiss my father on the cheek as he grips my head between his thick palms. His eyes search mine, and while I can't hide every emotion I'm feeling about this wedding, I can at least reveal the ones I feel toward him. "I give you my word that I'm okay with this arrangement. It was my idea, wasn't it?" Even as I say the words, I cringe inside.
My neck is tense. My shoulders so tight I can't relax them. Tito Ramiro is wickedly handsome, and his scorching good looks may fool some women—they almost fool me. I just can't see past the way his family looks at this union as if their territory will expand. Father may be relinquishing some of his control for a portion of time as outlined in the contract, but Jasper will reclaim control of the entire organization in ten years, and nothing they do can stop that.
" Mia cara ," he whispers, his forehead creasing in deep emotion. "If you say the word, I will pull the plug. We can find a way. We don't have to do this." His eyes continue to search me fervently, but I will not betray him by backing out. I hate this entire plan, loathe the very concept of arranged marriages with my whole being, but if I don't do this, Father will lose everything he’s built since he was only my age.
"Go, please." I smile at him and pat his hands, pulling them away from my face. My eyes sparkle with emotion, but not the way a bride's eyes typically do on her wedding day. These tears are screaming for him to save me, to cut the contract in two and back out, but they will never be heard. "I have a wedding to prepare for, and my groom isn't one to be kept waiting. Besides, you love cake."
He backs away, but I know he's still uncertain. This is my choice. I am saving my family in the only way I can. I can't rob a bank and steal millions to bail him out, and though Jasper is more than capable of pulling off a heist to do something, Father won't allow it. It's too risky. The family needs him to lead someday, and Father isn't getting any younger.
I watch Dad walk down the hallway toward the sanctuary of this massive cathedral the Ramiros booked for our impromptu ceremony, and I feel Melody slip her hand into mine. She lays her head on my shoulder and sighs, and I shut the thick, arched wooden door. I can't cry in front of my father because I know he'll back out and save me rather than himself, but I can cry in front of Melody, so I do. The tears stream down my cheeks without reservation, and I turn so she can wrap her arms around me.
"Heavens," Mom says, rushing toward me with a tissue. "I just finished your makeup, Aria. You're going to smudge it."
My chin rests on Melody's shoulder, and Mom dabs at the tear streaks on my cheeks, but I can't stop the tears. I may have to wash my face and redo all of Mom's hard work, but for now, I let the emotion out.
"Hey, it's okay. Dad's right, Ari. If you want to call it off, you should." Melody has one hand rubbing my back and the other still gripping mine. I don't think I can get through this without her.
Mom continues to dab my cheeks as I cry. She silently supports me, though I know she understands this pain I'm feeling. I'm given the choice, and I am making it freely of my own accord. She was never given the choice, though now, she and my father have a good, loving relationship. But he is a good man. Unfortunately for me, the man I'm set to marry is a monster.
"Aria, it will be okay." Mom pats my cheek, and I straighten and sniffle, taking another tissue from her as I walk away from Melody. "Marriage isn't always a partnership in love. Sometimes, it is a sacrifice." Her words do little to calm me or assuage my anger.
I can't blame my father. Life can't be controlled, and things are completely out of his hands. I know if it were up to him, I would be free to select my husband, and I am the one doing this. I just wish the arrangement fell to a kinder man, a man like my father. Tito Ramiro proved his unworthiness by his comments when we met last week. He thinks of me as nothing more than a toy, which is the weight I carry on my shoulders as I slump into the white leather armchair situated at the vanity.
"Just tell Papa you don't want to do this, Ari." Melody drops to her knees at my feet and uncrumples part of my white satin gown, and I blankly stare at my melancholy appearance in the mirror.
Dark circles ring my eyes, barely hidden by Mom's makeup job after crying so much. My lips are chapped—evidence of dehydration brought on by the depression I've sunken into. The gown is modest too, covering any hint of cleavage. I don't need to give that snake something to look at any sooner than I have to. He doesn't deserve it.
Mom is here too, pulling a chair up beside me and taking my hand. We only have half an hour before it's time to walk down the aisle and give my life away to a man who won't cherish me as a husband should. Nothing either of them does can turn back the clock or change the future. I'm the only one with that power, but how do I sentence my father to bankruptcy and losing his power? Not only would that mean losing his home and organization, but it will mean his enemies can move in and harm him physically.
"Aria, I will support whatever choice you make. Seeing my daughter hurt like this is the worst pain imaginable." Mom's hand squeezes mine, and I look at her. "You have your whole life ahead of you. Our lives are almost over. We made the choices that led to our difficulty. You shouldn't pay for this." Even Mom's eyes mist over.
"You're wrong." I firmly square my shoulders and take a deep breath. "You and Papa only want to support me and love me, and Mel and Jasper too. You've done everything to raise us properly, to do the right thing, and now it's our turn to love you. This is how I pay you back."
I know she wants to talk me out of this, but she can't. I won't change my mind. Tito may be a vile pig, but he will be my husband. I may find a way to capitalize on his wealth and remove him from the picture, but in order to do that, the money transfers must go through. Before any money is sent, the wedding must happen. And if I can take him down, and his family too, from the inside out, I will.
"Now, please fix my makeup so I can go marry Mr. Ramiro and serve my family in the only way I know how." I square my shoulders and turn back to the mirror, ignoring the despondent expression on Melody's face.
She is my sister, but she's my best friend. She knows me well enough to know that once I've made up my mind, no matter how I feel about things, there is no changing it. Getting me sloshing drunk last week wasn't enough for me to renege, and her pleading today won't be, either.
As Mom fixes my makeup, she tells me about her arranged marriage to Dad, how her father sold her off as a bargaining chip to stop the warring between his family and my father's. Mom, a Bratva princess in her youth, became the comare of the Peralta Family. It was a promotion, but not without its drawbacks. I see the love in their eyes though, something I will never have with Tito. I don't even respect the man. How could I ever love him?
"It's time…" I hear a voice and turn to see Mr. Ramiro at the door. His bushy, graying eyebrows are drawn into a line and he scowls unnervingly. His son gets that hateful look from him. "Don Hector is waiting for you, as is my son."
My chest tightens and my throat constricts. I can't respond to him. Melody does it for me. "Thank you, Signore ." She stands between me and the door, blocking my view of the older Ramiro as he walks out of the room, and then she pleads with me yet again. "Ari, please don’t do this. Please just call it off."
And just like that, a switch is flipped and I rise, taking the bouquet of roses and baby's breath from my mother. I plaster a bold smile on my face and blink slowly. This is my choice , I remind myself.
"Let's get married." I press my lips into the plastic smile that will remain on my face until I am whisked away from the wedding hall later this evening and forced into privacy with my new husband.
Melody's shoulders slump, but she stands aside. Mom hands her the flowers she will carry and falls in line behind us as I move toward the door with Melody in tow. The satin of my dress swishes over the short Berber carpet. I stand aside as Melody opens the door, and the burst of cool air rushes in around me, ruffling my hair.
If I could wear black, I would be. Instead, I've allowed my raven tresses to cloak me in their sorrow. They frame my face and shoulders, thus covering even more skin. I step into the hallway and pause a moment while my mother and sister fold the thick tulle veil across my face. This feels like a funeral and my bridal veil one of mourning. I nod at them and proceed to the double doors that stand open to the crowd of guests from both sides of this alliance.
"Ready?" my father asks as I come to stand next to him. He holds out an elbow, and I hook my hand around it.
"No. But now is the time. Let's save the Peralta name, Papa." With sure steps, I glide the last few paces to the door. My train drags across the marble floors. Melody walks around me and through the double doors. Mom stands on my other side, and I take her arm. I want it this way—for every last Ramiro in attendance to see my arms lovingly wrapped around those of my parents. It will speak to them when they doubt my motives in bringing their entire organization to its knees. Because I will. They put pressure on my father for far too long, and only now that I'm aligning to their desires—to allow them control of our organization in any part—have they backed off.
Well, two can play at this game, and if Tito thinks he's going to have a docile woman who just lies down to take whatever she's dealt, he’s wrong. I'm going to give him a run for his money, and then I'll take that money and spend it on ways to destroy him.
Wait and see…