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“We don’t,” Mattia says softly. He knows how on-edge I am about all of this. “We have no way of knowing what has happened since the recording device stopped transmitting.”
“We need to move quickly then,” I say.
“I need to prepare all of this to take to a judge,” Dalton says. “And after that, I think we should release it to the media.”
“Fight fire with fire,” I say quietly.
“That’s what I was thinking too.”
It’s still too slow. Anything can happen. With each passing minute that she remains his prisoner, she’s more and more at risk. I can’t wait for anything to be prepared first. He clearly doesn’t care about her. What if he kills her?
My leg begins to twitch as my impatience becomes more obvious. I can’t wait for the paperwork, or for whatever Dalton still needs to do. If the recordings are released, Gabriele will be too angry with Aria for crossing him like that. Hewillkill her, I’m sure of it.
“Gather all of my men for a meeting,” I instruct Mattia. “I want to see them all within the hour.”
“What are you planning?” Dalton asks urgently.
“I am doing what I need to do to get her out of there,” I say. “And nothing you say will stop me from doing it, so don’t even try.”
Mattia nods and issues a notice to all my men to meet me in the parking garage in an hour’s time.
Chapter 19
Aria
I’vebeenfastasleepfor hours, the deepest sleep I’ve had in days. The sound of the door to my room opening wakes me and I suddenly become aware that I’ve hardly moved in my sleep. The side of my body fitted to the mattress aches as my eyes flutter open.
First, a few guards enter and I am certain that my father will follow. The guards wait on either side of the door for him to make his entrance. I am faced with the brutal reality that I am, once again, my father’s prisoner. I sit up, and for the first time since yesterday the adrenaline in my body has faded. I have no idea if Mattia and Dalton received the recording of his confession, and my father has no idea that it even exists, if it exists at all.
My father walks into the room and he looks even angrier than yesterday. He says nothing for a while as he inspects some of the items in the room. I know this tactic well. He taught it to me. The best way to intimidate someone is to take your time with everything. I know his tricks. They didn’t work yesterday, and they won’t work today.
“I can wait,” I say sarcastically. “Evidently, my calendar has been cleared indefinitely.”
“The guards have reported that you aren’t eating or sleeping well,” he says.
“Are you pretending to actually care about my well-being?” I ask.
“You need to take better care of yourself, child,” he snaps. “So when I send food, you eat it. There is no purpose in this hunger strike, it benefits nobody and hurts nobody but yourself.”
“It’s not a hunger strike,” I argue. “I just don’t have an appetite.”
My father walks through the room as if it is the first time he’s ever seen the inside of it. I see my father through completely different eyes now. When I look at him now, he just seems like a villain to me. I feel no affection for my father anymore, he’s little more than a stranger at this point. Like a bad man whose path I accidentally crossed one night. I consider picking up the nearest heavy item to me and bashing his head in with it, but his guards are well-trained. He’s simply not worth it.
His time will come, I know it. But he doesn’t.
“Why do you care at all?” I ask. “You made it clear that I’ve been nothing but trouble. If I want to starve myself to death, why won’t you let me?”
“Why can’t you get it through your head,?” he barks. “Your wellbeing is a direct reflection on me as a father.”
“Precisely,” I whisper.
“If you die of starvation in my house, nobody will ever take me seriously again and I can’t risk that. There is too much to lose.”
“Ah,” I say, raising my eyes. “So this is an image thing. You don’t mind if people see me as a prisoner here, but I better not be a hungry prisoner. Is that it?”
My father clenches his jaw and I see the familiar twitch of his hand. I’ve made him angry and I don’t care. I have no reason to try and win my father’s love back anymore. It isn’t worth it. He has no more love left for me, that much is clear.
“Does anybody even know that I’m here?” I ask.
