I held her until her breathing evened out. Until she fell asleep in my arms.
Tomorrow my father returned. Tomorrow everything got infinitely more complicated.
But tonight, Aria was safe. In my bed. In my arms. Where she belonged.
And I'd kill anyone who tried to take her away.
Chapter Seventeen
ARIA
I stood at my bedroom window, forehead pressed against the cool glass, staring out at the manicured gardens below without really seeing them.
Why had I run?
The question circled in my mind like a vulture over carrion. Why had I packed a bag, climbed out a window, and walked down that dark road like some naive girl in a horror movie who thinks she can outrun her fate?
Because I was terrified. Simple as that. Bone-deep, soul-crushing terrified.
Terrified of loving Kai so much it physically hurt. Terrified of losing him to violence or his father's suspicions or the impossible situation we'd created. Terrified of becoming Salvatore's wife and having to pretend Kai meant nothing while my heart screamed otherwise.
Running had been pure panic. The animal part of my brain taking over, convinced that if I could just get far enough away, maybe the pain would stop. Maybe I could breathe again. Maybe I could figure out who I was outside of this nightmare.
Except I couldn't run from myself. Couldn't run from the fact that I loved Kai Accardi with a desperate, consuming intensity that terrified me more than anything Salvatore could do.
I'd rather die than lose Kai. Would rather face whatever consequences came than pretend he didn't own every piece of my heart.
That realization had hit me last night in his arms. When he'd held me and promised to save us. When he'd looked at me like I was the only thing in the world worth fighting for.
I was his. Completely. Irrevocably. And running wouldn't change that.
Movement below caught my eye. A black car rolling up the circular driveway, sleek and expensive and radiating menace.
My entire body went cold.
Don Salvatore had returned.
I watched him emerge from the car. Tall, imposing, dressed in an expensive suit that probably cost more than most people made in a year. Even from this distance, I could see the predatory way he moved. The casual cruelty in how he dismissed his driver with a wave.
Hatred flooded through me. Pure, visceral hatred.
This man had killed his wives. Had turned his son into a weapon. Had bought me like cattle and expected me to be grateful for the privilege of warming his bed.
This man stood between me and any chance at happiness.
I wanted him dead. Wanted to watch him bleed out on the expensive marble floors of his estate. Wanted to dance on his grave and spit on his memory.
The intensity of my hatred startled me. I'd never wished someone dead before. Never understood how people could fantasize about violence.
But looking at Salvatore, I understood completely.
The atmosphere in the estate shifted immediately. Like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the air and replaced it.
Staff moved quicker, quieter. Guards stood straighter. Even the air felt heavier,oppressive.
Dinner that evening was a masterclass in barely controlled tension.
Lia sat across from me, her face carefully blank, barely touching her food. She kept her eyes on her plate, speaking only when directly addressed.
