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When I end the call, I rush upstairs and pack a bag. I arrange for a plane during the drive to the airport. Before takeoff, I attempt to call Aria again, but she doesn't answer. I can't bring myself to leave a message, the fear that she's ghosting me too heavy to put into words. I don't call Bruno for the same reason. I'm too worried that he'll confirm my worst fear. That she’s staying in New York.
As the plane ascends, I gaze out the window, my mind consumed by thoughts of Aria. I feel a tightness in my chest, a longing that I haven't experienced since the first time I had to leave her. Aria has become more than just a prize to be won. She's seeped into my heart, my soul.
I reflect on our time together, the way her laughter lights up a room. The way she interacts with my staff, who delight in her and her efforts to speak to them. The way her touch sets my soul on fire. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and the thought of her choosing to stay in New York, away from me, fills me with a sense of dread.
I've always prided myself on my ability to get what I want, but with Aria, it's different. She's not just some pawn in my game of power and influence. She's a woman I've come to care for deeply, a woman I want by my side, not just as my wife, but as my partner.
I think about the lessons my father taught me. He told me to find a wife to be my other half. To be the source of my power. Aria is that woman. Unfortunately, my father failed to tell me how to make this woman mine. Regret seeps in as I realize I may not have done enough to show her the depth of my feelings. I've been so focused on claiming her. Not that I haven’t been kind or conceding in many cases, but I haven’t told her how I feel. How she is my source of power.
As the plane soars higher, I make a silent vow that when I see Aria again, I'll pour my heart out to her. I'll show her the side of me that I've kept hidden, the side that yearns for her affection, her trust, her love. I'll do whatever it takes to prove my commitment to her, to convince her that her place is by my side, not back in New York.
The minutes on the flight tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. I can't sit still, my leg bouncing with nervous energy. I need to see her, to hold her, to reassure myself that she hasn't slipped through my fingers. The thought of losing her, of her choosing a life without me, is too much to bear.
24
ARIA
Retail therapy is real. But as much as I love having new things, the therapeutic aspect is being with my friends. For the most part, we peruse baby shops, buying things for Lucy’s baby. But I also buy items for my niece and nephew and for Kate’s baby. We have lunch at a nice rooftop restaurant where I soak up the sun and the sounds of the city. I miss this place, but not so much that I feel a pull to it. The pull is to Luca. I miss his villa by the sea. I miss Roberta and the other staff who I’m sure are amused by my inability to speak to them but are patient with me. I even miss Bianca. She’d have loved today’s shopping spree. Maybe someday, I can bring her to New York to join us. Mostly, I miss Luca. I miss the way he looks at me like I’m the center of the world. I miss hearing his voice and am trying hard not to let my mind think the worst about our inability to connect.
When the afternoon is done, Bruno escorts me back to the hotel.
“You look like you enjoyed yourself,” he says next to me in the car.
I glance at him, wondering if he’s feeling out whether or not I plan to stay instead of returning to Italy. “I did. It distracted me from not talking to Luca. Is he okay?”
Bruno nods but then looks out the window. It sends a sliver of concern through me.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Does it have to do with Electra? Is she still trying to get her claws in him?” My tone and expression are tough, but inside, I realize I have some fear that Bianca and the wives are right. Their men like to have extra women on the side.
“Electra is dealt with.”
“How?”
Bruno shifts uncomfortably. That concern inside me grows.
“What, Bruno? What has Luca done to deal with Electra?” I’m terrified of both possibilities—that he killed her or he’s taken her to his bed.
“I will take her south.”
I gape. “Is that code for send her to hell?”
His eyes widen in surprise. “No. It means I’ll marry her and move her south to run things for Don Conte there.”
“You’ll marry her?” This makes no sense.
He looks out the window again. “The baby is probably mine.”
“Probably?” Did Luca and Bruno share her?
“It’s not Luca’s, if that is concerning you.”
I believe him, and because I do, relief fills me. “Do you love her?”
“No. But I like the idea of being a father.”
