I huff and flop back into my chair with my arms crossed over my chest, trying to push all of these bubbling thoughts away. Okay, I’ve had a lot to drink. I’m not handling any of this well. Maybe I’m even being unreasonable right now, but considering the circumstances, I don’t care. “I never asked to be caught up in this,” I grumble, and when I look at Ara, guilt floods me. I know she’s never been one to openly express her feelings, but I never thought it was because of such a monumental secret.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about any of this sooner. I just…” She hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty marring her features. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to remain my friend. And your friendshipisimportant to me,” she says earnestly. “It just became too difficult to ever bring up organically, and I thought if you did know this about me, maybe you’d be wise to walk away.”
Her shoulders sag, almost in defeat. It’s not often I see Ara vulnerable like this, and I can’t help but sympathize with her. No matter what she’s told me, she still appears the same to me, and I don’t know if that makes me a fool or if this is what true friendship is about. You’re together through thick and thin, right? But this is on a whole different level.
“It’s a lot to take in,” I admit as I glance at my feet. “I need to understand everything better before you ask this of me. It doesn’t even sound like I have a choice.”
She cringes at the last part because the reality is, I don’t. I’ve wound up in a situation I can’t get myself out of, and I still haven’t had the time to process it. I’m trying to think straight,but the alcohol has me spinning in circles, doing exactly what it was supposed to. I just don’t feel like myself right now.
“Luca is on a jet back to Italy now, to set everything back into place. But with that, we need to make sure we’re safe here in New York. Depending on who is behind the attack, they could reach as far as here. And I’m not leaving your safety to chance. They know what you look like, that you’re associated with me. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Especially because of me,” she adds quietly at the end.
The remaining bit of fight drains its way out of me as I sigh. I don’t want to see Ara like this. I know I should be more concerned for my own safety, but I’m still in disbelief. This is just a security measure, right? Surely, no one is really coming for me?
At my very core, I don’t want to lose my friendship with Ara. I absolutely adore our relationship, but finding out I may not know as much about her as I thought still hurts.
“How did you even end up marrying a Mafia boss?” I ask, still trying to come to terms with this revelation and dark secret. I knew Luca Armani had an air about him, but lethal and all underworld-like? Nope, I’ve definitely been living a sheltered life.
I look back at the empty bar, wishing my drink was still there. I throw a glare in Lorenzo's direction. He’s returned to standing against the wall, the drink miraculously gone. He seems unfazed by my attempted stink eye as he watches us.
How did I ever find him attractive? Did I really think he was simply a business friend of Luca's?I’m such an idiot.
Ara seems conflicted as to how she should answer, and I remain silent, waiting. Usually, I’d say she doesn't have to tell me if she doesn't want to, or something to that effect, but this time I need answers. Ones that will probably need to be repeatedtomorrow, because if I don’t wake up from this nightmare, I’m certainly waking up with a hangover.
Ara sighs, and her hand goes to her stomach. “I don’t know if you’ll still want to be my friend if you know about all the awful things I’ve done.”
There’s more stuff?
Do I want to know? Will this change us going forward? But I’m sick of everyone tiptoeing around me. People only tell me what they want to, and everyone keeps each other at arm's length in the wealthy social circles I grew up in. I thought Ara and I were different than those people, but maybe her reasoning isn't what I think it is. Shouldn’t I want to know more about someone I consider one of my best friends, even if it’s not all flowery? Isn’t that being real?
When she sees my determined expression, expecting her to continue, she uncomfortably shifts on her stool and nods.
“Right. Let me try to shorten it, but what I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else. Please, Lily, I’m not saying that as some Mafia wife bullshit but as a friend. It’s pretty damning.”
“I would say so, given I was almost run down by a car, wearing nothing but a bikini. But, hey, if this still isn’t a dream, then here we are,” I say as I casually shrug. She seems a little shocked at first, and I sigh, defeated. Okay, maybe I crack a few unsolicited dry jokes when I’ve had a few drinks.
“That’s a fair call,” she says, thanking the bartender who walks over with two glasses of water.
Damn it. That's the last thing I want right now, even though I know I’m probably better for it.
She waits until the bartender is out of earshot. “When I was a child, my mother was murdered in front of me.” My jaw drops, but I’m quick to bring the water to my lips to cover most of my shock. I didn’t know her mother was killed in front of her. Theincident of her mother being murdered in a home invasion was publicly known, but Ara never spoke about it.
“I made it my life's mission to find the person who did it. I discovered my father was involved in an underhanded business agreement. Heknowinglyallowed that night to happen. So, I played obedient daughter, slowly growing my influence to run one of his companies, Cleo, temporarily here in Manhattan. I put myself into a position where I worked the social circles during the day so I could stalk and monitor the Mafia family involved in that business transaction. I tried to avoid having direct involvement with Luca because I was aware of his… power. I also knew if I got too close, there was a high chance I’d be killed for it. But it became thisobsession. I had to avenge my mother and free myself,” she says, as if in a daydream, staring off at something I can't see. Then again, I can’t comprehend the horror of what she saw as a child. Somehow, it puts what I witnessed in Italy into some twisted perspective.
She was all alone, and I couldn't even imagine the weight of knowing my father was involved with my mother's death. I have my issues with my father, but this is something on an entirely different level. My thoughts snag on one important detail.
“It wasn’t Luca who killed your mother, was it?” I whisper, horrified at the thought.
“No,” she’s quick to say. “No, not Luca. It was his second-in-command at the time. He'd worked for Luca’s father during the time of my mother’s murder, so Luca ultimately gave him to me as a gift to get my revenge. Everything that happened between me and Luca during that time was real and certainly not with Lorenzo’s permission or blessing,” she half-heartedly jokes, and glances over my shoulder at him.
I don’t look his way, still actively avoiding the fact that Ara has suggested we become inseparable for the coming weeks. I’ve barely been able to make eye contact with him in the pastwithout the help of some liquid courage. But now, knowing how deadly he is, I need to squash my infatuation with him.
Then again, as I stare at Ara, who's slowly blurring in my vision with the influence of the alcohol, I’m simply trying to retain as much information as possible, not to mention focusing on the looming presence standing behind me. This all sounds so made up, something out of a terrible, traumatic drama. And there’s something I’m almost too scared to clarify. But I’m in too deep now not to ask.
“When you say you got your revenge, do you mean youhurthim?” I ask in a voice much quieter than I anticipated.
“No, Lily. I killed him,” she says matter-of-factly. Her answer hits me like a speeding train. Ara haskilledsomeone.
“Oh.” I drop my gaze to my lap, staring at my hands, which look fuzzy. It’s not every day your best friend tells you she’s murdered someone. But I can’t understand what life must’ve been like for her to lead to so much hate. I momentarily imagine someone standing over the body of my mother, and a cruel dread hits me so deeply, I immediately shove it away.
