14. Aria

Chapter 14

Aria

I see him sitting in the car outside. We fought, and even though I know Guilia is safely home, nothing about my marriage feels safe anymore. Franco called me a liar—and I am a liar.

I have been lying to everyone for a long time, including myself. I wanted to be someone else, to escape the legacy of my family. Instead, I married into a worse one, and now I am having his baby. My marriage is why Vito is after Franco. He knows who I am.

What this union means for him and the other families… I committed the mafia version of treason. I unified two families who had bad blood for a very long time, and I did it without them even knowing it. There are two liars in my marriage, and there are two killers that sleep in my bed at night.

Franco comes into the house, and Dominique has made himself scarce. "We need to talk." Franco's voice is gruff as he looks at me. "Let's go home."

"Is Vito dead?" I ask him .

"Not yet, but Guilia is safe." I knew she would be. She is not the end game. I am. Eliminate me, and all their problems are gone. Things go back to the way they have always been.

"Franco." I want to go with him. I love him, but we don't trust each other. "We should talk here." I can't face the silent treatment driving home and the anticipation of the fight I know is coming.

"You want to have this discussion here?" He glares at me. "Aria, let's go home, please."

"No." I stand up for myself, remembering who I am, even if I wanted to escape and forget for so long. "I am not who you think I am."

"I know, you're a liar."

"You're a murderer." I hate that he calls me a liar as if I wanted to deceive him. "What's worse?"

"Aria, you are a Dilio from that Dilio family. I thought it was just a common surname. It could have been. But I know better now. If you did not have my child inside you, I'd probably kill you with a smile on my face just because of who you are. How could you lie, knowing that, knowing who we are." His voice shakes; it's not angry, but it sounds like he is breaking inside.

"But am I the bad person because I am a liar? Franco, we can't do this. I told you I couldn't marry either of you." Tears threaten to fall from my eyes. "Only now does it make sense to him why. I tried so hard not to love him, to stay away from this life.

"But you did, and you lied the whole time. You could have told me. "

He is hurt and angry.

"And what? You'd have killed me with a smile on your face? Fuck off, Franco."

"Don't tell me to fuck off. You let me fall in love with you."

"You think I wanted to love you?" I ask. "Franco, I ran away. You came and dragged me to the chapel to get married. I just wanted to go."

"Marco was going to kill you."

"I'd like to see either of you try." They have no idea who I am—no one really does. "I can take care of myself, Franco. You don't have to worry about me."

"I do worry, Aria. All I do is worry about you and our child."

"You can stop. I am going to stay at the lake house for a while. I think we both need to cool down, and you need to resolve this business with Vito."

He looks at me as if I have kicked him. I'm not stupid. Now that people know it's an even bigger risk to stay here.

"Come home, Aria," Franco insists. He is almost begging. "Please."

I'm not ready to go home with him. "Franco, this is the right thing to do." He can't win every fight. "You and I both know how dangerous things could get. Vito is still out there. Let me take some security and go to the lake."

"Aria! "

I'm not a pushover, and he hates it. "Franco, you have business to take care of. I have a baby to protect. Stop being so short-sighted." This is best. I know it is. We need space, and he has to get both Vito and Marco under control.

"You take my security, and you keep your phone with you and turned on." He finally gives in and realizes I am going whether he likes it or not. "No visitors, no matter who it is. You trust no one."

I don't even trust him. Why would I think I could trust anyone else? "I do love you, Aria."

I know he does.

***

The lake house is isolated, and in the heat of the summer weather, it's gorgeous to be away from the city. At first, I welcomed the quiet and the stillness of nature—now I'm missing Franco and his chaos.

I miss sleeping next to my husband, feeling safe and protected in his arms. I wanted space, but now I just want him back. His daily calls only make me miss him more, but the war between families has escalated, and even Franco wants me far away from it all.

I'm lying out the back of the house by the pool, enjoying the sunshine, when a shadow blocks it .

"You have a visitor." One of the guards from the front of the house has come to find me. I'm not expecting anyone. No one is supposed to know that I am here. "He says he's your brother." I feel sick, and it's not the morning sickness. It's worse. I get up and pull on a sundress over my bathing suit.

"Let me see who it is first. Franco said no one was to come in." I follow him through the house to the security room, where I see my brother, like a ghost from the past, standing at the gate. Franco knows who I am now, so it was only a matter of time before he would find out more—more like my brother, and what I did for my family before I walked away. "You can let him in. Make sure he's alone."

"Mrs—" He starts to protest. "Franco said no one in."

"Is Franco here?" I ask. "Or am I here?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and I watch on the cameras as the guards search my brother, make sure he's alone and then escort him up to the house. He shouldn't be here. The man shouldn't be anywhere he can get found. He's neck-deep in bad debt and made a few questionable business alliances that left him ousted.

He has balls showing up here—and if anyone does find him, he'll be dead.

The front door opens, and before I can stop myself, I say, "What is fucking wrong with you? Why are you here?"

"Hello to you too, sis," he snarks, clearly expecting a warmer welcome than that. "Nice place you have here. I see you punched above your weight when picking a husband. "

"Careful," I threaten, and one of the guards steps closer. "What do you want?" He must want something.

"I came to congratulate you on ripping another family apart and on your wedding, which I wasn't invited to."

"No one was invited, you idiot." I was dragged down the aisle under duress. "What do you want?" I ask again, already uncomfortable having let him in.

"Come in, brother, have a coffee, let's catch up." His voice drips with sarcasm and envy.

I'm not responsible for his bad choices, and I have paid for enough of them in my life.

"I came to see you, Aria, to make sure you're all right."

"I can take care of myself, thank you." I remind him subtly. "This is not the best time for a catch-up. Things are up in the air right now."

"Is that so? Are you having marriage trouble? Is that why you're not living with Franco anymore?"

It must look that way to outsiders. That Franco and I are having trouble.

"I'm going to make you a coffee, you're going to tell me what you want, and then you are going to disappear again before whoever is after you shows up on my doorstep." Trouble follows my brother like a bad smell. "And before you ask, I do not have the kind of money to fix your problems, so that's a no." Franco hasn't given me access to his money. I get an allowance.

"I'm not here for money, Aria," he says, taking the cup. "It would help, but it isn't why I came to find you."

"What then?" He's nervous, acting sketchier than usual. "You in some sort of other trouble?"

"No, but you are," he says, looking me in the eye. "Aria, there is no love lost between us. You made a choice. I have no choice. But Vito thinks he can use you to take out Franco. Rumor is that he wants to dethrone your husband and take over. He's dangerous, and he has his sights set on you."

I had a feeling that was what was going on, but Franco doesn't discuss business with me.

"I can handle Vito," I say to my brother, who knows more than he's saying. "Or have you forgotten what I am capable of."

"I thought you'd forgotten." He smirks. "Vito plans to kill you. He knows you're pregnant, and that is a big threat. To everyone. He's gaining support from other families, too."

"How many men have tried to kill me? Since I was a teenager, men have tried and failed. I always kill them first." I loathe that my past is a filthy, bloodstained shadow. I had shaken it off and walked away free, and now it's back to making meme faces of who I really am.

"Aria, this is not the same," he says. "Be careful."

"You came here to tell me to be careful?" I smell a rat.

"I came here to see for myself that it was you they were talking about and to warn you. And I had sort of hoped your husband had given you an unlimited gold card so you could pay a guy, but money wasn't my motive."

We were close once, he and I, and then I chose to walk away and start over. Without the name, the pain, or the pressure to be what they wanted me to be.

"Thank you for the visit, but we can't have you overstay your welcome." If he's here, someone is following him. My brother is always running from something. "You better go now." I have noticed the guards are edgy, and my discomfort levels have risen.

"Thank you for the coffee, Aria." He hugs me, and in his embrace, my brother hands me a small knife—the type of concealed weapon we would carry around with us as children. I watch as he is escorted out of the house, a sense of dread creeping in. The past has caught up with me. I can't outrun it forever.

Something about his visit doesn't sit right—why now? If he had asked for money, I would have believed him. Coming to warn me? My brother is a two-faced, slimy, sneaking bastard. He would never risk himself for anyone, not even me. Which begs to ask, why was he here, and how long before the shit hits the fan?

I am about to call Franco and tell him about the visit so he doesn't hear about it from security when the house goes from quiet to deafening silence. Where are my men? What has my stupid, low-life brother done? Trust no one, Aria, I let him in!

Franco's phone rings, but before he can answer my call, I'm faced with our enemy, and if I fight, they will hurt my child. "I will come quietly." I put the phone down on the counter and hope like hell he answers or senses that I'm in danger quickly .

"Ahh, I was hoping you'd kick and scream and give me a reason to hurt you." Vito chuckles, and his maniacal laughter fills my kitchen. "But quietly works, too." His men have my arms pulled tight behind my back, and behind him, through the open door, I see my brother, the traitor.

"What do you want, Vito?" I ask him. Maybe I can diffuse this situation before they take me.

"I want you to stay quiet like you said you would and let us take care of business." He tips my chin up, so I have to look into his cold, dead eyes. Men like Vito have no soul. They're sad, hollow men with nothing to lose. "You are pretty. No wonder all the boys are fighting over you."