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Shaking in every inch of my body, I grasped at the metal door handle, finally something solid and cold under my fingertips. Failing to twist it a couple of times, I almost gave up before I could open the door on the next attempt, slumping all my weight onto the wood. I pushed it past myself so violently that it caused a loud bang to echo around the house, a doorstop thankfully stopping the home from being damaged. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to care just then.
I slumped against the wall and slid down the floor. I had no more energy to continue standing. I hoped Alexander had heard the loud noise I had made with the door because I could feel my vision darkening already.
Just as I felt I was about to pass out, I heard a pair of feet running in my direction and listened to a voice shouting my name.
“Aryana!”
Chapter 10
Alexander
Ever since what took place in the kitchen two days ago, I rarely saw Aryana. It seemed as if she was avoiding me, but the truth was that I was also avoiding her. The atmosphere was tense and awkward, and I wasn't interested in trying to bridge the distance between us. I had already tried that and had been rejected. I wasn't interested in being left once again. I had already extended an olive branch. It was up to her whether she wanted to accept it or not. What I knew was that I wouldn't make the first move again. Call it pride. I did not care.
For the past two days, I had either been in the library or my room, only going to the kitchen to fix something for myself and Aryana because, despite the tension between us, I wouldn't allow the mother of my child to starve. Judging by how I never saw her portion when I checked the fridge, I could see that she ate it each time. I could not say I was happy she was eating my food and not throwing it away, but I felt satisfied.
Despite her eating my food, we still avoided each other. I didn't know her reason for avoiding me, but I couldn't say I was keen on seeing her after she rejected my olive branch and blamed my father for us being stuck here. Of course, I was unhappy with my father's decision, but I understood he did it for our safety. I understood Aryana's plight. She was wrenched from all she knew, and her life had been destabilized. But she also needed to realize this was all done for her safety.
While I could sympathize with her plight, she needed to get accustomed quickly instead of trying to escape reality. The sooner, the better. The quicker she could comprehend it, the smoother it would be. A part of me felt guilty that she slept with me, the heir to the Romano family. She wouldn't have been in this situation. She probably would have run away from me if she had known, but it wasn't as if I could have told her upfront that I was in the mafia.
I snorted in amusement. That would have been a very foolish thing to do. Ridiculo.
That would have rendered all my training a waste.
Anyway, the point was that it had happened. I wasn't ecstatic about being stuck here while my family and men were at war with the Saconnes. I couldn't go against my father's orders; thus, I had to make do here. Aryana needed to do the same. She didn't need to be happy about being stuck here, but she needed to acclimatize to the situation.
I sighed and stared at the opened book in my hand. I was in the library, not knowing what to do. I didn't understand why I kept on thinking about Aryana. What about her made me unable to get her out of my head?
I placed the book on the desk and sat on the leather chair behind it. I didn't even know what the book was about. I had been flipping the page without even looking at it, too engrossed in my thoughts about the mother of my child to pay it any attention.
I didn't even know where she was in the house, whether in her room, the kitchen, or the living room. The only thing I was sure of was that she wasn't in the library precisely because I was there. It appeared that we would not see each other any time soon.
That was what I thought until I heard a loud bang.
I sat up straight in my chair. What was that sound? My nerves tightened. Had someone found out our location? Impossible! According to Tony and Marcello, no one knew about this place besides my father and a few trusted men. There was no time to run through different possibilities in my head. I immediately opened the drawer under the desk and pulled out the gun that was lying there. The steel was cold in my palm, glinting from the sun's rays that peeked through the curtains as it withdrew for the day. I quickly checked if it was loaded, then flicked the safety off. I rushed to the door and opened it, but what I saw was unexpected.
Sitting on the floor and resting against the wall beside the opened door of her bedroom was none other than Aryana, wheezing and gasping for air. Her chest was heaving tremendously, and her hands were scrabbling on the floor.
"Aryana?"
I immediately rushed towards her, instincts controlling me to put the safety of my gun back on before dropping it in my haste.
Her eyes were clenched tightly, and her breaths came out in short pants. My hands cupped her cheeks, lightly thumbing at her eyes to get her to open her eyelids. I don't know what went through her mind when she saw me, but she sobbed loudly in relief, but the crying only made things worse. She was gasping desperately after each hollow breath. She still couldn't breathe correctly, her diaphragm not understanding that it was meant to move up and down, chest still jerking.
"Alex...Alexander." She rasped.
I saw her try to reach for me, but her arms were too weak, shaking with every movement. It was like her bones had suddenly turned to lead, blood to cement, even twitching a finger as though she was lifting weights. Aryana's grasp fell short, her hands falling limply to the side, knuckles hitting the floor painfully with each failed attempt.
"Alex," She called again, forcing her mouth to form the words. "Please, I can't-I-please," she stuttered with sobs, once again trying to reach out to me.
Almost immediately after her last attempt, I quickly moved one of my hands to meet Aryana's shaking fingers, holding on tightly. With gentle movements, I brought her hand to my chest, palm resting over the fabric draped over my body. I let her feel the steady rhythm of my breaths, the distinguishable up and down of my thorax, and the muscles all moving to show Aryana that she could breathe successfully.
Each intake of air was distinct and exaggerated to help Aryana focus.
"Hey, mio tesoro," I murmured, getting Aryana's attention again. "I need you to do me a favor. Can you follow my breathing, okay?" I asked with my tone low and soothing to Aryana's ears, like a lullaby. "You're doing so well, il mio bel tesoro. I'm here. It is okay."
I watched Aryana try her best to follow my chest movements, trying to get into the same rhythm she felt underneath her palm. However, the air still seemed to be made of water, invading her throat and lungs because she ended up coughing violently as she attempted to slow her panicked breaths, choking on every strangled gasp.
I shifted to a more comfortable position to better guide Aryana through her panic attack. Still, I moved my hand from where it had rested on her cheek. It seemed that had been the wrong thing to do because it made her panic even more. Her hand almost clawed where it was latched onto the fabric of my clothes over my chest. Her other hand wildly lunged forward, searching for a contact, and her fingers grabbed my arm that had been supporting her.
