Her gaze softens just the tiniest bit and she shakes her head. “No. It will never be that way between us and neither of us wants it.” She turns to look at me and the vulnerability written on her face disarms me. “Tristano, I’ll tell youanythingif you’ll please help me get him back before he’s killed.”
I want to punish Aida, to let her agonize over what my decision will be, and no one would fault me for it, even her. But I’ve learned a lot over the years I spent trying to find her, while planning to destroy Caruso for forcing her to leave in the first place. The mantra I kept at the forefront of my mind prevented me from self-sabotage.
The past is simply that; a time gone and unchangeable.
Yet the future is malleable, able to be made into what I want.
My vision is to create a legacy that’ll last for generations, so the Silvestri name will never die and never be forgotten like our original name. Aida may have chosen to forget. My brothers may have as well or been too young at the time. But I remember our previous identity.
The Dragonetti family.
Dead and buried like my past, like my father.
The only thing we kept was the signet ring and our family motto. The only reason we could was because my father refused to share it with anyone not of our blood. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. He wanted to ensure the sanctity of our family and ancestors by protecting the vow.
But I want to make it famous.
“Loyalty ’til death.” The last thing people say with either reverence or fear. Something to last the ages that will never die, even when I do.
“I don’t know if the money will secure his release,” I say. “Whether or not it does, I’ll still expect you to forfeit all the information you’ve kept.” I lean toward her and only when her eyes go wide with concern, do I continue. “Like any business transaction, if I believe I’m not getting my money’s worth, you’re going to owe me. And trust me when I say, that’s not a safe place to be.”
I push off the tree and straighten my clothing, more than done with this conversation, with her. Right when I turn to leave, the sound of my name stops me. I glance over my shoulder at my mother and the hint of sorrow in her gaze catches me by surprise.
“When I ordered Octavia to send you that message, I wasn’t sure if you'd agree to help me. I’d hoped you would in order to gain clarity and closure on behalf of your brothers, but not once did I think you’d consider reconciliation.” She looks off in the distance. Her eyes look glassy with unshed tears, but the sun’s rays make it hard to confirm. “Never that.”
Violetta
I’m dressed as though I’m going to prom.
Or a date…
The cynical part of my brain scoffs at the turquoise-colored evening gown with its empire waist, square neckline, and the matching high heels. However, the woman in me can’t believe how grown up I look dressed like this. My face and body haven’t changed physically, but I have on the inside. Maybe it’s the perceptiveness in my gaze which makes me appear older than eighteen. Whatever the case, having to wear this outfit is unexpected.
And I doubt it’s for my birthday because no one knows about it.
I apply another layer of mascara to help lengthen my lashes as I mull over this day and what it means for me.
Orshould’vemeant.
Since puberty, perhaps even earlier, I’ve always known what my father’s plans were for Carina and me. It was to be a lifelong sentence of being shackled to a criminal, regardless of his character or his treatment of women. I always assumed my eighteenth birthday would be the worst of them all, not that any were actually celebrated, but here I am, free and far removed from my father’s evil intentions.
All due to my sister’s courage.
I want to honor her by enjoying this day, yet I find that I’m quite melancholy. Not for the same reasons as before, which is obviously a tremendous relief. In actuality, it’s because I want to acknowledge this major milestone with someone who cares about me. Tristano comes to mind, on account of him never leaving it.
After many failed attempts to remove him from my daily thoughts, I’ve given up.
He doesn’t have tender feelings for me and why would he? Tristano is twice my age and has a wealth of knowledge and money, not to mention he’s had the opportunity to live. To truly explore life and do things that make him happy.
I want to do that more than anything.
Maybe having those types of experiences would help me to mature. Tristano deserves a woman who’s his equal and when I try to picture us a couple I can’t. Next to him I’d be like a kid sister, someone he protects.
Not someone he fucks.
I get to my feet slowly, not wanting to tip over and injure myself, and then do one last check in the mirror. I remind myself what I think about me is all that matters, and right now I look pretty. However, inside me there’s a girl who’d love nothing more than to be treated like the woman she is on the outside. Images of Tristano touching and kissing me have my body heating up and a warmth spreads over my cheeks. Then it heads south.
Damn it, now my panties are damp.
