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Chapter Twenty-Three
SALVATORE
She hates that I’m making her go to this engagement party for her cousin, Gabriella. I’m reluctant to go, given what’s transpired over the last week. Aria hit me where it hurt, dug a damn knife into my heart and twisted it. I know that she was acting on her emotions, but it doesn’t give her the right to treat me the way she did. Yesterday she did everything she could to show me that she’s sorry. It’s time to stop living in the past and prepare for today.
I run my hands over the silkiness of the deep blue dress I had made for Aria. I happened to be in town and saw the fabric when I was walking by, needing to see it grace her skin. So, I did what any good husband would do. I found a local dressmaker, provided her with my wife’s measurements, and told her exactly how I wanted it to look. She created something far past my wildest expectations.
“What’s that in your hands?” my wife asks, and I allow the fabric to fall naturally.
Walking over to her, I place my lips against her temple. “It’s the dress you’ll be wearing to Gabriella’s engagement party.”
“I really don’t want to go,” she tells me again, for what seems like the tenth time.
“I don’t care. We need to keep up appearances, and in doing that it means attending family parties that we’d rather not be at.”
Aria nods, takes the dress from my hands and goes off into the bathroom. “Give me thirty minutes to get ready, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
***
Almost an hour latermio dolcecomes cascading down the stairs beautifully dressed, the color looking better on her than I ever imagined. I quickly rush her to the car, and our driver takes off, heading to the venue of the party. We’re already late. I have to say, I’m a man who hates tardiness. I’ll let her get away with it this time, but I hope she doesn’t plan to get away with it again.
When we arrive to the hotel that the party is being held at, I take ahold of Aria’s hand, and we walk inside. At our arrival, heads naturally turn, and the room grows silent. The eldest daughter of Baptiste Funar and her mercenary of a husband, oh my! They must have assumed we weren’t going to show up.
A woman in white with dark brown hair comes trotting up. “You two made it! Everyone kept telling me that we didn’t think we’d see either of you two today. I told them to shove it, that my favorite cousin would most certainly be here with her beloved.” Gabriella, no doubt.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Aria lies straight through her teeth, packing on the fakest smile she can muster up. I smirk, knowing how she really didn’t want to be here in the first place. From the corner of my eye I spot Andrei being led upstairs, watching as he looks like he’s being led outside. Something isn’t right, it’s like I can smell it in the air. “Mio dolce, find Marcel and stay with him. I’ll be back in a bit,” I tell her, not sticking around for her response. I head up the stairwell and follow where I had last seen Andrei, as soon as I come within his sights I see his uncle with a gun trained on his head. What the fuck?
I pull my glock from the back of my pants and raise it at Gabriele. His eyes meet with mine and he tsks, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“The clock is ticking, Salvatore.” He looks down to his nephew, taking the safety off his gun, pushing it further against his head.
Shit. This isn’t good.
“Is this really the time, for fucks sake? It’s one of your daughter’s engagement parties,” I interject, hoping to distract the old man.
“This is as good of a time as any. Business must still be running, I’m afraid,” Gabriele spits out, staring at Andrei. “I thought you might need a little motivation to get your job done, Salvatore. Why is it that he’s still alive?”
“I’ve been busy,” I reply. “Hits take time; a finesse. I can’t act quickly and end up not doing my job right in the process. Surely, you understand that.”
Gabriele smiles, smacking the back of the gun against Andrei’s head before looking to me. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want to kill him. Don’t you ever think of the things that your lovely wife had to go through because her father was too selfish to rescue her? About the ways that she was violated, abused worse than you could ever imagine? That has to boil your blood. You must want him to pay for that.” I do, deep down inside want Baptiste to pay for it, for all of it.
“I want Aria to be left out of all of this, every part of it. She knows nothing. You stop getting your goons to follow her, or I’ll start picking them off one by one,” I threaten, seriousness evident in my tone. He made a deal with me, in no part of that deal did shaking up my wife come into it.
“Ah, there we go. I suppose I can keep my niece out of this mess but only if you do what you were hired to do and make sure that his children support my movement when the time comes.”
I nod once, staring at the old man. I can’t believe Aria is related to this atrocity. The sad part is that I don’t have much of a choice here. I will do everything and anything I can to keep her safe, even if it means making a deal with the devil.
