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Dion’s face, his voice, echo again in the recesses of my mind, like they have been doing every day.
But that’s done. He was a casualty of circumstances beyond our control, and I have to accept our fate.
A part of me still hopes that he’ll genuinely be able to find a way out of this, no matter Andrew’s threats. I’ve tried to mourn the loss of what could have been, but beneath the facade of composure, I can feel the cracks beginning to form. How much longer can I keep up this pretense without breaking? How much more of myself will I have to sacrifice on the altar of societal expectations?
I stumble out of my room, thoughts spinning. The walls seem to close in, suffocating me. I need air, something to ground me. The woods, my sanctuary, call to me.
Swaying slightly, I navigate through the house. Each step is slow, careful—I don’t want to wake anyone. My hand brushes against the wall for support as I reach the patio door.
The cool night air greets me when I step outside, filling my lungs with a refreshing chill. I pause, inhaling deeply, savoring the moment, then make my way toward the forest.
The night is dark and eerily quiet. I pass my garden, the familiar scents barely registering. As I reach the treeline, a faint rustle breaks the silence. I freeze, my heart pounding. Last time, it was Dion who cornered me here. I haven’t seen him in months. Could it be him?
I scan the shadows but see nothing.
With a deep breath, I continue into the forest. The darkness envelops me, the silence almost deafening. Suddenly, I see a figure in the distance heading toward the street on the other side of the woods. It looks like a man. Fear grips me, rooting me in place. He turns, sensing he’s not alone, and our gazes lock. The moon casts a pale glow on his face, making his eyes shine. I try to discern their color, but it’s impossible in this light. He’s too far for me to make out his features, but I’m too scared to speak, to move. My hands are trembling, a cold sweat forming on my brow.
We stare at each other in silence, the moment stretching on. Then, he disappears into the darkness. I remain frozen, my body refusing to move until he’s out of sight. My legs finally obey, and I scurry back to the house, heart racing. Adrenaline courses through me, making my head spin even more.
I’m not sure if what I saw was real. It must be the alcohol or the coke. Shaking, I make my way back to my room and collapse onto the bed, ignoring the sweat and the aches throughout my body.
Exhaustion washes over me, and I close my eyes, hoping for sleep to take me away from this nightmare.
I drift into a fitful sleep, but the image of the man lingers.
PART IV
ONE YEAR LATER
26
ARIA
Ayear.
So much has changed.
I sit on the edge of my bed, absently running my fingers over the soft quilt. A letter from Andrew sits on the nightstand. He postponed the wedding. There was no explanation given, only a vague hint of “unforeseen circumstances” and “difficult decisions.” I can’t help but assume that the escalated tension in Cebrene between the Godfathers and the recent revelations about the Sisterhood have something to do with it. It’s as if everything is in a state of uneasy balance, and Andrew’s abrupt departure only adds to the mystery.
He left town for “business,” not even bothering to mention when he’d be back. Honestly, it’s a relief. And the thought of him potentially never returning almost gives me hope. The quiet is more welcome than I’d ever anticipated.
This past year has been a whirlwind. I haven’t seen or spoken to Dion in all this time. The emptiness inside me aches every day, and I miss him more than words can express. But I know staying apart is for the best, to protect my family and myself. And to protect him.
If only I could tell him why I had to end things between us, why it had to be this way.
Dion’s messaged me since the engagement party. And each time breaks my heart anew, but I can’t risk responding. I have this gnawing feeling that Andrew’s watching my every move. He probably has my phone tapped, waiting for any slip-up.
So, I keep my silence, no matter how much it hurts.
I’ve spent most of my time traveling between Cebrene and Antium with Gianis to be with Angelica. After her relationship with Evander fell apart, she needed all the support.
He kept so many truths hidden, betraying her trust in ways that left deep scars. To gather her thoughts and heal, Angelica moved back to Antium.
But the biggest revelation was about her father, Peter. Learning about his involvement in the Sisterhood was a shock. The secret society that kidnapped young girls, grooming them to be sold as prostitutes or child brides, and some, deemed unfit, even ending up as nuns to keep up the establishment’s appearance. It was unthinkable, horrifying.
Angelica asked me to help find more information, suspecting that our fathers were partners in this dark enterprise. So, I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, when both my parents would be out.
With my heart pounding, I sneak through the house and into my father’s office. Immediately, I’m filled with a sense of unease.
