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I hold his gaze. “I’m in. You know I am. But I was never meant to be in this role.”
He sighs, nodding as he crosses his arms. “I get it, D. I really do. But Ignatius always said we were destined for something greater, and now that he’s dead, it’s our duty to see it through. He wanted us to uncover the Sisterhood. That’s why he left those breadcrumbs.”
My heart tightens.
I grit my teeth, memories of my childhood flashing through my mind. “Just because my father wanted different things for me, doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for where I’m at today. I wouldn’t change it for anything,” I argue.
Evander’s face softens, and he uncrosses his arms. “I know. Life’s a bitch and dealt you a shitty hand, but you’ve done well for yourself, man.”
I nod, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders.
Evander claps me on the back. “Let’s finish what Ignatius started. Together.”
Thirty minutes later, I grab my burner phone from my gym bag.
Stepping outside, I perch onto my bike and turn on the engine, the vibrations creating a familiar sense of calm.
I dial a number and put it to my ear. The ringing on the other end seems to stretch on forever.
Then, finally, the line clicks, and a voice fills the silence.
“Hello?”
The sound is a melody—soft, familiar.
“Aria.”
There’s a hint of surprise in her tone when she responds. “Dion?”
12
ARIA
My heart stutters when I hear Dion’s voice on the other end of the line.
The last person I expected to call me was him.
I lift my glasses over my head as if it’ll help me focus and shut the book I was reading. Sitting up on my bed, I try to gather my thoughts.
I haven’t heard from Dion since the night we spent together two months ago. We never exchanged numbers, so I never thought I’d speak to him again.
However, I’m not surprised that he found my contact information.
“Dion?”
“Yes, it’s me, astéri mou.”
My heartbeat slows at the sound of my nickname. “I..Wha…” I stammer, not really knowing what to say, so I’m thankful when he continues to speak.
“We need to talk.” I hear a gate opening behind him.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, nervously fiddling with my pajama shirt.
“Nothing. I just need to ask you some questions.”
“Uh, okay…Shoot.”
“In person.”
