I hit play.
Watched her face as Vincent's panicked voice filled the room. As my father gave orders for murder. As they planned her father's death like it was a business transaction.
The color drained from her face completely. Her hands started shaking.
When the second conversation played, confirming the bombing was done, she made a sound. Small. Broken. Like something insideher had shattered.
The recording ended. Silence filled the room.
Then she collapsed. Just folded in on herself, sobs tearing from her throat so violently her whole body shook.
I caught her before she hit the floor. Pulled her into my lap. Held her while she fell apart.
"He killed him." The words came out between sobs. Broken. Anguished. "My uncle killed my father. His own brother. And your father helped. They murdered him because he wanted to protect me. Because he was trying to save me from this nightmare."
"I know. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"I trusted him. When Papa died, Uncle Vincent was there. Held me while I cried. Told me everything would be okay. And the whole time he'd murdered him. Planned it. Executed it." She was shaking so hard I could barely hold her. "All of this. My grief. My guilt. Being trapped here. It was all because of their conspiracy. Because they wanted power and money and me."
I held her tighter. Let her cry. Let her rage. Let her break because she'd been holding it together for too long.
"My father thought he was going to die while I was at that club. He was trying to save me and I was..." She couldn't finish. The guilt was eating her alive.
"No." I gripped her face, made her look at me. "Your father wanted you to be happy and free before everything changed. He wanted that for you. None of this is your fault."
"But if I'd been home..."
"You'd be dead too. They would have killed you both. Or found another way to force the marriage. This isn't on you, Aria. This is on them. On my father and your uncle and their fucking greed."
She stared at me. Tears streaming down her face. Then collapsed against my chest again.
I held her. Stroked her hair. Whispered things I wasn't sure she could hear over her crying.
Time passed. Minutes or hours, I didn't know. Didn't care. Just held her while she grieved properly for the first time.Not for the father she thought died in an accident. For the father who'd been murdered trying to save her.
Eventually, the sobs subsided. Her breathing evened out. She pulled back, wiped her face with shaking hands.
When she looked at me again, there was something new in her eyes. Not just grief. Rage. Cold. Determined. Dangerous.
"What do we do with this? How do we make them pay?"
"We take it to the Council. It's our only real shot. The Council rarely interferes in family business but this crosses lines even they can't ignore. Murder of another Don for personal gain. Conspiracy. Cover-up. They'll have to act."
"When?"
"Soon. I need a few more days to prepare. Make sure everything is perfect. Get Father Benedetto fully on board. Then I request an emergency session and present everything."
She nodded slowly. Her hands clenched into fists. "I want to be there when they take him down. I want Salvatore to know that I know what he did. That he didn't break me. That he lost."
Pride swelled in my chest. This was the Aria I'd fallen in love with. Strong. Fierce. Ready to fight.
"You'll be there. I promise. We'll stand together and watch him fall."
I pulled her close again. Pressed my lips to her forehead. Let myself have this moment of holding her. Comforting her. Being what she needed.
She tilted her face up. Her eyes met mine. Then her mouth found mine and everything else disappeared till we settled in the comfort of the familiar taste of our lips intertwined in each other until they weren’t.
"Thank you." She touched my face. "For telling me. For giving me the truth even though it hurts. For being here."
