ARIA’s POV
The soft jingle of metal rang out in the darkness, snapping me from my sleep with a jarring jolt of adrenaline. Through blurry eyes, I found Matteo looming above me, his hands deftly working at my cuffs. The sight of him sent a surge of terror coursing through me, freezing me in place like a deer in headlights. His features, caught in the dim light, contorted into a mask of frustration as he realized I was awake.
“We have a guest, so be good”. That was all he said to me.
He pulled me into his arms and carried me all the way to the dining room. There, I saw a bunch of familiar faces and a completely new face.
Carter, Ben, and Charles were the only people I could recognize on the table and there as a girl who looked like she could be in her teens.
The relief and elation that washed over Carter’s face when he spotted me was undeniable, his eyes brightening as he took in the sight of me, freed from the confines of my room.
After weeks of isolation, the sight of everyone in the room, their faces etched with genuine concern for my well-being, was both a salve to my soul and a source of embarrassment. The warmth of their shared glances, directed at my damaged ankle, held more power than any words could express, their silent message of care melting away my discomfort even as I blushed from their collective attention.
The young girl’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as she followed Matteo’s movements, her gaze drifting from my ankle to my face, then back again.
As he positioned me next to her at the table, a sense of intrigue emanated from her small form, her stare both innocent and insightful as she studied me like a strange and fascinating new specimen.
“Hi. I’m Gia”. She whispered to me, and I could tell from her accen that she hasn’t been here for quite a long time. She had long brown hair, and she was breathtaking. She has doe eyes and pale skin.
She looked like those kids you’d want to protect at all means. I smiled at her and looked over to the familiar faces, and then my eyes landed on Matteo, who just stared at me like he was trying to guess what went on in my head.
“Now we’re seated. I want you all to meet my little sister, Gia”. He said, looking only at me. “Gia, say hi”.
“Hi everyone”. She was cute.
The revelation that this young girl was Matteo’s sister, his own blood, stunned me into silence, my mind reeling at the implications. Her gaze, playful and inquisitive, caught mine for a brief moment, a shared flicker of curiosity passing between us as the others responded to her greetings. It was a brief connection, a fragile thread that bound us together in our mutual fascination.
“You don’t look so good”. She whispered only to my hearing.
“He doesn’t treat you well?”. She whispered again.
She was a smart girl. I mean, anyone seeing me in this condition would know there must be something wrong.
“I’m fine”. I whispered to her, forcing a smile as she smiled back at me.
Turning to matteo, I watched him eat his food like he didn’t have any care in the world.
“So… tell us, what you wanted to find at a strip club”. Charlie asked, and I choked on my food, but she was quick to hand me my glass of water. I gulped it down frantically and turned to Charles, and I could see he had a smirk on his face.
“Well, I heard the clubs here in Venice had men like I’ve never seen before. I just wanted to see if they were right”. She replied as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and then she fetched some bread from the center of the table. “I mean, they’re hot, but I prefer Americans”. She finished then took a bite of the bread.
Everyone in the room exchanged glances except Charlie, who kept his eyes on her with the smirk still on his face.
“You’re right. We’re much hotter”. He said, and she glanced at him, then returned to her food.
“No, they are, but I prefer Americans. I didn’t say Americans were hotter”. Like a shift in the weather, the arrogance that had previously adorned Charlie’s features disappeared, his smug expression vanishing as he bent his head to his meal.
“Where were you before that?”. Matteo asked with a mouth full of food
“Went to pick up some books at a bookstore”. She said, not even glancing at her brother
“Then after that?”. He asked, completely abandoning his food.
“I stopped by an ice cream truck. Wanted to get a taste of Venice’s ice cream”. She said, still not looking at Matteo.
“And which is better?”. Charlie asked all of a sudden, and she looked at him for a good minute and shrugged
“They’re both good”. She said finally.
“Oh no!”. Charlie lamented. It was the first time I saw him this free, and it was good to see.
“How do you like the food?”. Matteo asked in a firm voice, but she still didn’t glance his way. She just kept on with her eating.
“I’ve had better”. She said and looked up at him.
“You could tell Elizabeth whatever you want to eat”. Matteo said.
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll make it myself”. Her reply was quick.
I could tell she could be rude when she wanted to, and she was doing a great job at pissing matteo off.
“Umm…I don’t see pickles here”. She said
“We don’t have pickles”. Mrs. Fletcher said from the far end of the table.
She looked at the old lady and smiled
“Too bad. I love pickles”. She said, and I could see Matteo boil inwardly as he stared at his lovely sister.
“Gia…”. Matteo called out
“Matteo!”. She stopped whatever she was doing and looked at him straight in the eyes, which made him chuckle nervously.
“Carry on. I have work”. He said and left the dining, but I could tell he wasn’t happy about what happened tonight.
With a smile that was both subtle and disarming, she shifted her focus to me, her eyes meeting mine with an expression that hinted at the dawn of a new era, one filled with both uncertainty and the promise of change.