Chapter 1

Arianna POV

There are moments in life that don’t feel real you feel like you’ve slipped into a terrible dream and you rack your brain to wake up. You say to yourself no this isn’t real it doesn’t feel real wake up come on come on. Then it sinks in you’re awake and it’s real and you go cold. This has only happened to me twice when my mother ran with me in the middle of the night and the day she died. 

She’d had a heart attack in the parking lot at the grocery store. She’d never shown any signs of heart disease but the tests didn’t lie. She’d dropped and no one could have brought her back. 

When I got the call I felt the world blur and assumed I was in a vivid nightmare only to realize there wasn’t any other reality to escape too. She was all I had known for so long and now I was alone. 

Sort of. 

My father, an estranged ghost in the corners of my life, had swooped in out of nowhere. He took over and paid for everything the funeral, her arrangements, and the house even. 

I was taken aback when I saw him at my doorstep. He grabbed me like we were close and this was *our pain, something nothing like our reality. She’d taken me and left in the middle of the night but he told me he’d never blamed her and that he loved her enough to let her go. That he had missed me and didn’t want me to worry about a thing. 

I didn’t want this man who was so much of a stranger in my home, let alone my life, but at the same instant, I did not want to be alone. He’d come in and made sure I’d felt safe and supported. All of the bustle and documents that come when someone dies were lifted off of me and I suddenly felt like a toddler again being told to trust and blindly follow. Holding his hand and walking along in total faith. 

With him came my sister who I gladly enveloped. She wept with the grief of not knowing our mother. When we’d left my mom took my sister but eventually Giulia wanted to stay with our father and I chose my mom. I always assumed it was out of guilt leaving him alone and they seemed confirmed when she came to me crying over our loss. 

She looked over our pictures and her things and clothes. I will admit when looking at us Giulia was very much my father's daughter her luscious brown hair that had the softest waves to it and her eyes were honey on the inside and green rings on the outside she was a traditional Italian beauty whereas I took after my mothers darker looks almost black hair and rich amber eyes. Giulia was olive-skinned and on that, we were the same but I had freckles that covered me though I kept them under makeup. 

“I remember her humming as she rocked us to sleep, every night,” she whispered staring at the picture my mother had on her bedside. She was pregnant with Giulia and I was at her side she was on our father's porch in a white dress her hair in the wind. 

“She missed you greatly,” I brushed my sister's hair out of her face. 

“I doubt that,” She whispered. My parents had signed a joint agreement of no contact. My mother couldn’t contact Giulia and my father couldn’t contact me and neither of them could speak to each other. So when he came in I felt like the floodgates had opened or ties had been cut. My once sealed-off corner of the world was now open to the masses. 

Giulia and I were joined at the hip not leaving one and other. We went over everything we’d missed, first kisses, first dates, crushes, ballet recitals, driver’s licenses. We spent each night going over our lives with each other, doing our nails, braiding our hair, and drinking wine. She was only 20 but still, I didn’t mind. 

It turns out my sister was seeing some guy in a company my father's company worked with. It felt a little arranged but I kept it to myself. She seemed happy. She was in college and though I wanted to tell her to keep the guys to a minimum until she got her degree I said nothing. She was my sister but I still felt like it wasn’t my place. 

I told her about my job as an accountant she snorted and said I was definitely my father's daughter when it came to numbers. We stuck to them like glue but I never had the same rigidness he’d had I still enjoyed my freedom far too much to fall into the boring accountant category. 

She giggled at me and I realized how large a six-year age gap could be she seemed like a 14-year-old schoolgirl every once in a while. People come out of things differently and that seemed to be obvious when it came to me and my sister. 

I’d learned reality from my parent's divorce and my mother's death and my sister learned indifference to the world around her. 

After the funeral had passed I told my father I needed time and space and that it wasn’t that I was ungrateful for all that he’d done but merely that I had just been through a lot and he was surprisingly reasonable to my request. I’d expected him to push back and insist that now that he had me, he wouldn’t give me up without a fight. Instead, I was sent back to my house with a hug and a kiss. 

Guilia and I talked every day now and I called my father when I could he was thoughtful and listened and we seemed much more similar than I’d ever realized. The one thing we bickered about was him insisting I was wasting my mind being someone’s employee and that I had the ingenuity to run my own business, not somebody else’s. 

“What am I going to do?” I’d ask him. If I didn’t have a talent to sell or a product people wanted, I had no services they required. I know he probably wanted me to come and take care of his businesses and eventually he’d ask but at the moment I was fine with our separate worlds. 

After a while, I came over to see them at my old house. The mini-mansion that had grown in my absence was now full-fledged.  

“I threw myself into work after your mother left,” my father had shrugged when he saw my agape mouth hanging in the wind. A new wing had been added, the foyer redone, a tennis court put in, and a movie theater to boot. 

I went out back and found the cherry tree our mother had requested our father put in. She would read stories to us under it and we’d look up at the cotton candy flower petals as they fell. Seeing it helped my ache for her, to ask her how I was supposed to move on now when we’d built our lives around each other. 

We ate and we talked about our lives and our days and it felt like a real family. I thought to myself that I shouldn’t keep them at arm's length just because I was comfortable. I should allow myself some semblance of a home and family in this new chapter of my life. 

After a while, it became the new comfortable I’d go to work and text Gulia and she’d tell me about whatever sweet thing her boyfriend Marco had told her that day. I’d call my dad once a week and he’d remind me I was wasted at the small town company I accounted for but told me to enjoy my life. Then once or twice a month I’d make the hour drive for dinner and a movie. 

Then Guilia called me. 

“HE PROPOSED!!!” She squealed over the phone. “He proposed, he proposed, he proposed!”

I’d set down my glass of red in utter shock. My 20-year-old sister was engaged. The urge to tell my sister she was too naive to get married was swallowed instantly. 

“Wow, Gules that’s fantastic!” I had managed. 

“Oh! He took me out to dinner and we went for a boat ride and then he got down on one knee and HE PROPOSED!” She screamed into the phone again. 

“Sounds magical,” I sighed rubbing my forehead and fighting with myself to not ruin her moment. 

“You don’t sound happy, aren’t you happy for me?” She almost whimpered. 

“Well yeah yeah of course. It’s just you’re so young Gules and I just don’t want you to make any mistakes,” 

“We’ve been dating for a year and a half that’s more than most 20-year-old girls can even fathom. I love him. Don’t worry about me,” she insisted. 

“Okay, okay. Protective big sister mode turned off,” I shook off the doubt and was happy for her like she wanted. 

“Good! Besides you need to help me plan the engagement party pronto!” She ordered. 

“I do?” I was surprised she wanted my help considering she found me a shut-in at best. 

“Of course you *are the maid of honor,” she giggled over the line. I’ll admit I was overjoyed to know my sister and I had gotten close enough she wanted me to be a bridesmaid and so I gladly agreed. 

“Oh Guilia of course I’ll come over tomorrow,” I smiled broadly. 

“That’s more like it!” She cheered. 

“Well you go enjoy being engaged with your fiancé, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told her and she agreed giving me a bubbly I love you before hanging up. 

After a weekend of color palettes, China samples, appetizer platter prices, and a wine list I selected we had the engagement party planned. Somewhere in the haze I was introduced to Marco he was 25 and looked like he could kill me with his pinky. 

I smirked to myself seeing the gorilla man next to my tiny little sister. Guilia loved my idea of a black tie affair with a dress code of dark colors so she’d stand out. 

So that’s why I was standing here watching my little sister bounce on the top of her toes as she talked giddily with two of her friends. I had chosen a draped backless black dress with lace cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. 

“Stunner,” Guilia had called me when I walked in earlier. 

“Like her mom,” my dad had kissed me on the cheek with a tight expression. 

I’d spent most of the night sitting back and watching everybody, who seemed to know everybody but me, laugh, talk, and joke with one another. I as the outlier took my rightful place at the table in the back. 

Then I felt a warm brush of air walk up to me. 

“You know it’s disrespectful to outdo the new bride at her own party,” a rich deep voice hit my ears before I turned and saw the man it belonged to. 

Most men assert themselves to talk to a woman they like because they have to but he didn’t he was subtle because he could be. A gorgeous pair of green eyes greeted me in an all-black suit. He had some well-kept stubble around his face and his hair was rich chocolate. 

I found my voice by the grace of god and managed an “I think I’ll be just fine,” though it did not have the air of unbothered I’d have liked. 

“I beg to differ, you look like a painting, she looks like a prom Queen,” he set his drink down beside mine and leaned in. 

“And you think insulting my sister will make me like you?” I was instantly put off by his attack on my baby sister. 

He chuckled a deep rumbling laugh and a tingle went up my spine. “I didn't mean to offend but every man has his desires,” 

A blush washed over my face from the tone of his voice. “*I desire my sister to be the center of attention tonight,” I grabbed my glass and walked away from him passing him as another laugh escaped him, I hid the shiver it gave me and pinched my lips together to his the smile I had. 

“Oh good you two have met!” Guilia ran up to me as I attempted my escape. 

“What?” I looked at my sister with wary curiosity. 

“This is Marcos's cousin Giovanni he’s the best man,” she looked between us and I knew her enough to know she was plotting. 

“It’s good to meet you,” he stuck out his hand like the snake to Eve holding the apple. “Call me Gio,” 

“Arianna,” I told him shaking his hand and by the time I’d let go I knew I was already dammed.