chapter 4

Aria

I didn't sleep that night. I lay in the big pink bed and stared at the ceiling until the sky outside the window turned grey, then white. My father's voice kept playing in my head again and again.

She'll be grateful for anything we give her. Maybe I heard it wrong, I told myself. Maybe he was talking about something else. Maybe I was so tired that my brain made it up.

But I knew I didn't. At nine o'clock, Rosa knocked on my door. Her face was sad.

"Your parents want to see you in the study, Miss Aria," she said.

"Do you know why?" I asked.

She looked down at her hands and didn't answer. That was all the answer I needed.

Richard was sitting behind his big wooden desk. Diane was sitting on the leather couch by the window. When I came in, she got up and smiled at me, but her smile looked tired.

"Sit down, sweetheart," she said.

I sat on the couch beside her. My hands were cold. Richard put his phone face down on the desk. He never did that.

"Aria, we need to talk to you about something very important. Something about this family," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"Have you heard of the Moretti family?" he asked.

I nodded slowly. Everyone in this city had heard of the Morettis. Nobody said their name too loud. In the diner where I used to work, when Moretti men came in, the owner gave them their food for free and never asked for money.

"Many years ago, your grandmother made a promise to Vittorio Moretti. The Don. A marriage between our families. A Whitmore daughter would marry his son," Richard said.

"Why?" I asked.

"That's not important. What's important is that the Don never forgets a promise. Never," he said. Diane took my hand.

"His son, Dante, was shot a year ago. He has been in a coma since then. The doctors say he will probably never wake up," she said softly. My stomach turned.

"But the Don still wants the wedding. He wants it this month. And if it doesn't happen..." Richard said and stopped.

"If it doesn't happen, he will take everything. The hotels. The house. Everything your grandfather built. We will lose it all," Diane said and her voice broke.

"And you want me to marry him," I said.

It wasn't a question. Richard looked at me. Diane squeezed my hand tighter.

"Only you can save this family, Aria," she said. I looked from her face to his face and back again.

"What about Camilla?" I asked. Diane's face changed for a second.

"Camilla is... fragile, sweetheart. She has been through so much since she found out the truth. And she loves Ethan so much. It would break her," she said. And me? I wanted to ask. What about me? Don't I break? But I didn't say it. I just looked down at my lap.

"You don't have to answer now. Take a day. Think about it," Richard said.

"But not too long," he added.

I spent the whole day in my room. I sat by the window and looked at the garden. I thought about Grace. What would she say? She would say, run, baby. Run and don't look back.

But where would I run? To a shelter? To a job no one would give me? Back to being alone?

At least here someone needed me. Even if it was only for this.

Maybe if I do this, they will love me, I thought. Maybe they will look at me the way they look at her.

It was almost midnight when I decided to go and tell Diane yes. I walked down the dark hallway to her room. But her room was empty.

Then I heard her voice. It was coming from Camilla's room at the end of the hall. The door was open just a little.

"Shh, my darling. Don't cry. Please don't cry," Diane said softly.

"I was so scared, Mom. When Dad said a Whitmore daughter, I thought you were going to make me do it," Camilla cried.

"Never. Do you hear me? Never. I would never let you marry a vegetable," Diane said. I put my hand on the wall to hold myself up.

"But Aria..." Camilla said.

"Aria will be fine. She's strong. She survived prison, didn't she? This will be nothing for her," Diane said.

"You're not angry that I said no?" Camilla asked.

"Angry? Sweetheart, you're my baby. You will always be my baby," Diane said.

Her words cut deep into my heart. Deeper than anything Ethan ever said. Deeper than the judge. Deeper than two years of cold prison nights. You will always be my baby. Not me. Her.

I walked back to my room without making a sound. I closed the door. I sat down on the floor and put my face in my knees, and I cried without making a single noise. I learned how to do that in prison.

When I was done crying, I wiped my face and stood up. I still said yes. Isn't that stupid? After everything, I still said yes. Because a small, broken part of me still hoped. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe if I gave them this, one day she would hold me like that too.

The next morning, I told them at breakfast.

"I'll do it. I'll marry him," I said.

Diane jumped up from her chair and threw her arms around me. She held me for a long, long time. Longer than she ever held me before.

"Thank you. Thank you, my brave girl," she said into my hair.

Richard smiled at me for the first time since I came to this house. A real smile.

"You're doing a good thing for this family, Aria," he said.

Julian didn't say anything. He just stared at his plate. Later that morning, when I was going up the stairs, he stopped me again. But this time he didn't grab my wrist.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" he said without looking at me. I looked at him in surprise.

"Do you care?" I asked.

He opened his mouth. Then he closed it and walked away. But it was the first time he ever asked me anything about me.

Camilla put her fork down and looked at me with big sad eyes.

"Are you sure, Aria? I feel so bad," she said.

"I'm sure," I said.

"You're so brave. Much braver than me," she said. Then she smiled.

Two days later, the Don came to see me. I was standing in the big living room in a white dress that Diane picked for me. My hands were shaking so badly that I had to hold them behind my back.

The front door opened and the whole house went quiet. Don Vittorio Moretti was an old man with silver hair and a black walking stick. He was not very tall. He was not shouting. But the moment he walked in, even Richard stood straighter. Behind him were four men in black suits. And beside him was another man, younger, with a warm smile and kind brown eyes.

"Richard. Diane," the Don said.

"Don Vittorio. Thank you for coming. And Marco, good to see you," Richard said and shook their hands.

So that was Marco. The man on the phone. The Don didn't look at my parents for long. He turned his head and looked at me.

He looked at me for a very long time. So long that I felt like he was looking inside of me.

Then he walked to me slowly, his stick tapping on the marble floor.

"So you are Aria," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said and bowed my head.

"Look at me, child," he said.

I lifted my head. His eyes were dark and old and tired. But they were not cold.

"You have your grandmother's eyes," he said quietly. My heart jumped.

"You knew my grandmother?" I asked. Something moved across his face. Something sad.

"I knew her very well," he said. He turned to my parents.

"I want to speak to her alone," he said.

"Of course, Don Vittorio," Richard said quickly. They all walked out. Camilla looked back at me from the door with a strange face before Diane pulled her out.

When it was only the two of us, the Don sat down on the couch with a small groan.

"Sit," he said. I sat.

"Do you know what you are agreeing to?" he asked.

"I'm marrying your son," I said.

"My son is lying in a bed and he may never open his eyes again. You will be a wife without a husband. People will talk. They will laugh. Some of them will be cruel," he said.

"I'm used to that, sir," I said. He looked at me again with that long, deep look.

"Yes. I think you are," he said. He was quiet for a moment.

"Do you want this, Aria? Not your father. Not your mother. You," he asked. Nobody had asked me that. Not once.

I thought about the photo in the hallway. About you will always be my baby. About Ethan's laugh by the pool.

"Yes," I said.

The Don nodded slowly. Then, for the first time, he smiled. A small, tired smile.

"Good. Then I will tell you something, child. One day, the people in this house will understand what they gave away. And on that day, they will cry," he said. He stood up and tapped his stick on the floor once.

"The wedding is on Saturday," he said and walked out.

I sat alone in the big living room and stared at the door. What did he mean? What did my grandmother have to do with any of this?

And why did it feel like the most dangerous man in the city was the only one who was on my side?