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16
Damian wasin the Tribeca apartment, going over the strike strategy for the hundredth time, when his cell phone rang. He picked it up almost without thinking, his attention on the plans in front of him. It wasn’t until he saw the unknown number that the call got his attention.
He hesitated, then answered the call. “Yes?”
He waited through a long moment of silence and was about to hang up when he heard the broken voice on the other end of the phone.
“It’s Aria Fiore.”
“Aria… Are you alright?”
“I’m… I’m fine. I’m sorry to call like this. I just…” A sob broke free. “The truth is I don’t have anyone else.”
“I gave you my number for this reason,” he said. “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“I’ll come to you,” she said. “If it’s okay, I mean.”
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “But I can be in a car in less than five minutes.”
“I need the time,” she said. “I need… um, to get my head together.”
“Let me give you the address. Are you ready?”
She sniffled. “Ready.”
He gave her the address. “I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she said.
“See you then.”
“Damian?”
“Yes?”
“It was him,” she said. “He set the fire.”
“I know,” Damian said. “It’s okay. Just get here and we’ll figure it out.”
She hung up without saying goodbye, and he stared at his phone, wondering when he’d come to stand in the kitchen, his back against the counter. His mind was racing, running through all the things that might have happened to her if she’d confronted Primo about the fire.
It shouldn’t have mattered beyond how it would affect his strategy in the takedown of the Fiore organization — if at all. Aria was a pawn on the board. She occupied no position of power, probably had limited knowledge of her brother’s operation.
He didn’t give a shit about any of it.
All he wanted was to see her face. To know she was okay.
It didn’t make any fucking sense.
He grabbed his keys and headed out of his apartment and into the elevator. He reached the lobby well before her expected ETA and spent the next twenty minutes pacing in front of the building.
He was looking at his phone, marking the time that had passed since she’d called when he spotted a small figure moving toward him from the corner. He knew it was her even from a distance. It was in the way she held herself, the unique blend of strength and fragility he’d spotted the first time he’d seen her.
He forced himself to wait. He had no idea what had happened, what would come of their meeting, how it would impact his war with Primo or her safety.
But it would affect both of those things, and that meant she had to come to him.
He waited as she approached, her footsteps purposeful right up until the moment she stopped in front of him, as if now that she'd resolved to see him there was no point second-guessing the decision.
