20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Aria

I pace the length of my room, the ornate rug muffling my hurried footsteps. My chest tightens with every second that ticks by, every moment that Lila might not have received my frantic message. My father had snatched my phone the instant I’d agreed to leave with him.

The walls of the room feel like they’re closing in.

I stop by the window, pressing my forehead to the cool glass. Outside, guards patrol the estate, their movements precise and mechanical. They’re not here to protect me—they’re here to keep me in.

Please, Lila. Please have seen it.

A knock at the door startles me, and before I can respond, it swings open. Vittorio strides in, his polished shoes clicking against the hardwood floor.

“You’re pacing,” he observes, his tone devoid of concern. “Anxious, are we?”

I whirl to face him, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “What do you want, Dad?” The word Dad tastes bitter on my tongue now.

Vittorio’s smile is thin, humorless. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve arranged something wonderful for you, sweetheart.”

My heart skips a beat, but not in the way he expects. “What does that mean?”

“You’re getting married,” he says casually, as if announcing the weather.

My blood runs cold. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, stepping further into the room. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, like a predator cornering its prey. “It’s time you stopped playing house with those mutts and returned to where you belong.”

I shake my head, my voice rising. “No. Absolutely not. This wasn’t part of the deal!”

“The deal,” Vittorio says, his tone sharpening, “was that you’d return to me. And now that you’re here, I decide what happens next.”

“No!” I shout, my fists clenching. “You don’t get to decide who I marry! I won’t do it!”

His smile vanishes, replaced by a cold, hard glare. “You will do it. Or would you prefer I deal with your bastard child instead?”

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. “Don’t you dare touch Elias.”

“Then behave,” he says smoothly, as if discussing the weather. “The man I’ve chosen will accept Elias as his own. It’s more than you deserve.”

“I don’t care what you think I deserve!” I snap. “I won’t marry some stranger just because you want to play puppet master.”

Vittorio steps closer, his towering presence making the room feel smaller. “You will. Because if you don’t, Elias won’t make it through the night.”

The words are a dagger to my chest. My knees feel weak, but I force myself to stand tall. My voice is quieter now, trembling with restrained anger. “You wouldn’t.”

He smirks, leaning in just enough to make his point clear. “Try me.”

I bite my lip so hard it stings, my hands trembling at my sides. I want to scream, to fight, to rip apart every inch of this man who dares to call himself my father. But I can’t. Not when Elias’s life is on the line.

“Who?” I finally ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “Who do you want me to marry?”

“Someone worthy,” he replies, straightening his cuffs. “A man with power, influence. A man who understands the value of keeping bloodlines... pure.”

I feel sick.

“And when am I supposed to meet this ‘man’?” I ask bitterly.

Vittorio glances at his watch, an unnecessary flourish. “In two hours or so. You’ll present yourself properly. The maids will be in shortly to prepare you.”

“Prepare me?” I scoff. “What am I, a sacrificial lamb?”

He chuckles, the sound devoid of warmth. “Exactly.”

“I won’t do it,” I say again, though my resolve feels thinner by the second.

“You will,” he says firmly, heading for the door. “Or Elias pays the price.”

The door opens, and two maids step in, their gazes lowered as they curtsy. Vittorio pauses in the doorway, turning back to me with a chilling smile. “Make yourself beautiful, sweetheart. First impressions matter.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and the maids move hesitantly toward me. I glare at them, my anger threatening to boil over, but they’re just pawns in this sick game.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap, backing away.

“Please, Miss,” one of them whispers. “We have to. He’ll—”

“I said, don’t touch me!” I yell, and they shrink back, their faces pale with fear.

I slump onto the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. My mind races, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. But no matter how I turn it over, the answer is the same: I’m trapped.

My fingers itch for my phone, the one my father confiscated, but it’s gone. My lifeline to Bane, to Elias, to everyone who could help me—it’s gone.

What should I do?

The maids exchange nervous glances, and one finally speaks up. “Miss, we can start with your hair—”

“I said no!” I snap, and they fall silent again.

I glance at the window, the only other way out of this room. But the guards outside are watching, their patrols too tight for me to slip past unnoticed.

Time ticks by, and the maids eventually begin their work in silence, brushing and styling my hair while I sit motionless, my mind elsewhere.

An hour. I have an hour to figure something out. An hour before I’m paraded in front of some man who thinks he can claim me and my son as possessions.

My fingers dig into the fabric of my dress as anger and despair battle within me.

I sit on the edge of the bed, the maids still fussing with my hair, my shoulders slumping as all the fight drains out of me. I’ve been pacing for hours, hoping that Lila had seen my garbled message, hoping that somehow help would come. But there’s nothing. No signal, no sign, just silence.

And Bane? He’s always abandoned me. I was a fool to think he'll help.

He’s always done this—let me down when I needed him. Why did I expect this time to be any different?

“Miss?” One of the maids murmurs hesitantly.

“Just... finish,” I mutter, staring blankly at the ornate wallpaper. They resume their work in silence, the comb tugging at my scalp.

My mind spirals as I sit there, helpless. Thoughts creep in, unbidden and cruel. Elias will die because of you. Bane will forget you. No one is coming to save you. This is your fault.

A knock sounds at the door, sharp and authoritative. I don’t even bother looking up. I already know who it is.

Vittorio strides in, his tailored suit immaculate, his presence dominating the room. The maids instantly step back, heads bowed in deference.

“Well,” he says, clapping his hands together. “I have good news.”

I look up at him, my eyes hollow. “What now?”

“The engagement is happening today.”

My stomach plummets. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, his tone casual, as if he were announcing a dinner party. “Why wait? The arrangements have been made. The marriage will take place in a week.”

“No...” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, that’s not possible. You can’t—”

“I can,” he interrupts, his voice cold and final. “And I already have. This isn’t up for discussion, Aria.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink furiously to hold them back. “This wasn’t the deal. You said—”

“I said what I needed to say to get you here,” Vittorio snaps, his patience thinning. “Do you think you’re in any position to negotiate? You should be grateful I’ve found someone willing to accept you and your bastard child.”

The words hit me like a slap, and I flinch, my throat tightening. “You don’t care about me,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You never did.”

Vittorio smirks, stepping closer until he’s towering over me. “Care? No, Aria. Love is a luxury I can’t afford. What I care about is maintaining our family’s legacy, and you’ve done everything in your power to destroy it.”

“That’s not true!” I shout, my voice cracking.

“Isn’t it?” he counters, his tone icy. “You ran off with a pack of mongrels. You bore a child out of wedlock. You’ve tarnished everything I built, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Tears spill down my cheeks despite my best efforts. “I didn’t choose this,” I choke out. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“And yet, here we are,” Vittorio says, his voice softening into something almost condescending. He reaches out, cupping my face with a hand that feels like ice. “Look at you, crying like a child. This is your fault, Aria. All of it.”

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You brought this on yourself,” he says, his voice a cruel whisper. “And now you’ll fix it. Do you understand me?”

I nod weakly.

“Good,” he says, releasing me. “The maids will finish preparing you. You’ll meet your fiancé shortly.”

I can’t speak. I can’t even look at him as he turns to leave. At the door, he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. “Try not to embarrass me any more than you already have.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and the dam breaks. Sobs wrack my body as I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. The maids exchange uneasy glances, but they don’t move to comfort me.

For the first time, I feel completely and utterly alone.

The maids finish their work in silence, their hands trembling as they adjust the intricate folds of the dress Vittorio had chosen for me. It’s beautiful, of course.

“Miss, we’re done,” one of them murmurs.

I stand on shaky legs, avoiding my reflection in the gilded mirror. I don’t want to see the stranger staring back at me.

“Thank you,” I say hollowly, my voice barely audible.

They curtsy and leave, the door closing softly behind them. The room is silent now, save for the erratic rhythm of my breathing.

I glance at the window again, the same thought creeping into my mind. Could I make it?

But even as I entertain the idea, I know it’s futile. The guards would catch me before I made it to the tree line. And then Vittorio would follow through on his threat.

I sink back onto the bed, my hands trembling in my lap. This is my life now.

I lay curled on the massive, cold bed. I wasn’t sure when sleep claimed me, but I slept off.

And then, he was there.

Bane.

The air in the dream shifted, heavy and electric, as I found myself standing in the moonlit woods. The chill of the night kissed my skin, but the heat of his presence engulfed me. He stepped out of the shadows, his gaze locking onto mine like a predator claiming its prey.

“Aria,” he growled, his voice rough and desperate.

I turned to him, stunned and breathless. “Bane?”

Before I could process anything, his hands were on me—strong, calloused, and impossibly warm. He pulled me close, his lips crashing down on mine with a fervor that stole the air from my lungs.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against my mouth, his voice trembling with an edge of both fury and longing.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. All I knew was him—his lips, his touch, his scent. My fingers tangled in his dark hair, tugging him closer as my body responded instinctively.

His hands roamed, sliding down to my hips and gripping them with a possessiveness that made me gasp.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice low and guttural. “Say you belong to me.”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m yours.”

His growl vibrated against my skin, and before I could register it, he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist. My back hit the rough bark of a tree.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck, nipping and kissing in a way that made my head fall back. “Missed you.”

“Bane…” I gasped as his hands slid up under the thin fabric of my dress, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling the fabric over my head and tossing it aside. His eyes darkened as they took me in, his gaze predatory and hungry. “You’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands cupping my bare breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks.

“Bane, please,” I whimpered, arching into his touch.

His smirk was wicked as he leaned in, his lips capturing a nipple while his other hand slid lower, tracing the curve of my thigh. The feel of his mouth on me was intoxicating, every pull and flick of his tongue making my body tremble with need.

“You taste like heaven,” he growled, his voice thick with desire as he kissed his way down my stomach. “But I need more.”

I barely had time to process his words before his fingers slid between my legs, parting me with a teasing stroke that made me cry out.

“So wet,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “You want this as much as I do.”

“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. “God, yes.”

He didn’t make me wait. His mouth replaced his hand, his tongue exploring me with a skill that left me trembling.

“Bane!” I cried out as his fingers joined the torment, thrusting into me with a rhythm that matched the relentless pleasure of his tongue.

“Come for me, Aria,” he growled, his voice vibrating against me. “Let me hear you.”

I shattered, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over me. His name fell from my lips like a prayer, and he didn’t stop until I was limp and trembling in his arms.

But he wasn’t finished.

He stood, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “I need you,” he said, his voice raw. “All of you.”

I nodded, unable to speak, as he shed his clothes. The sight of him—his broad chest, his chiseled abs, the raw power of his body—took my breath away.

He pressed against me, his hardness undeniable, and I arched into him, desperate for more. “Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He didn’t hesitate, sliding into me with one deep, powerful thrust that made us both moan.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his hand tilting my chin up so our eyes met. “You’re mine, Aria. Only mine.”

“Yes,” I breathed, my hands clutching his shoulders as he began to move.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his forehead resting against mine.

“Bane…” I gasped, my nails raking down his back as the pleasure built once again.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. “Let go, sweetheart.”

I came undone, my body shuddering as the pleasure consumed me. He followed moments later, his roar echoing through the woods as he spilled into me, his arms holding me tightly.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

But then the world shifted.

I woke with a start, my body still trembling, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. My thighs clenched as the lingering sensation of release coursed through me, and I realized with a sinking heart that it had all been a dream.

The knock on the door jolted me fully awake, and I scrambled to cover myself, my cheeks burning.

“Miss Aria,” a guard’s voice called. “It’s time. Your father is waiting.”