Gianna Aria dragged me toward the couch, away from Luca and Matteo. We sat down and Aria reached for my fat lip with a frown. “I can’t believe Dad hit you so hard.”
“He already did,” I muttered.
Romero was watching us from the kitchen. I really wondered how he could stand being trapped in this attic with Aria all day. I doubted that many soldiers had competed for the job.
After a moment, Aria leaned toward me, whispering.
“Are you okay? How was last night?”
I glanced in the direction of Luke and Matthew but they had already disappeared into the elevator and were going who knows where.
“Gianna?”
“I’m fine,” I said, turning my sister a comforting smile. It seemed that she had not slept much last night. Had concern for me kept her awake?
“E? How was it? Did you sleep with Matthew?”
I laughed. Aria reminded me of myself after Aria’s wedding night . I was terribly worried about her. “Don’t look so anxious. I’m really fine.” Oddly enough, I was fine. Maybe even too fine. It had been too easy to find my old life again, as if the life I had been trying to lead for the past few months had never really fit. That morning I had not wondered where I was, had not had to remind myself of my current alias. I was myself again.
“You don’t look good. Please tell me what happened. Last night I drove Luca crazy with my anxiety.
That made me smile. Everything that soured Luca’s mood did. “I slept with Matteo.” My mind returned to the feeling of him inside me, his intense gaze, his strong body, his touch, and my core tightened again. I wasn’t sure how I could stop my body from being so eager for Matteo’s attention , but I knew I had to find a way if I ever wanted to have any sort of power in this marriage.
“You don’t seem to mind,” Aria said with a mocking smile.
“As you said, Matteo is handsome and knows what he’s doing, so it wasn’t too bad.”
“Did you notice that you hadn’t slept with anyone before?”
“Yes. You were right. It hurt like hell. He was so damn smug about it. I really wish he hadn’t figured it out. I feel like he has more power over me now that he does.
Aria shook her head. “You have to stop thinking this way. You and Matthew need to find a way to get along now that you are married. It’s good that he knows the truth.”
“Matteo doesn’t make it easy for me either.
He is always so arrogant. And he’s the one who started with the games. And you know what else he did?” I lifted my leg with that stupid ankle bracelet. I still couldn’t believe that Matteo had actually put that thing on my body, like I was a dog that needed a collar. Of course from his point of view it was probably the normal thing to do.
After all, he was a controlling, possessive, power-hungry killer, but that didn’t mean I liked him.
Aria grimaced. “I know. Luca told me about it this morning . It was his idea. She paused with an apologetic expression. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he said he won’t risk any more conflicts with the Organization by letting you roam free.”
“As if my father or anyone else in the Outfit would care if I ran away again. I’m not their problem anymore, remember?” I waved my fingers, showing my wedding ring.
“Luke and Matthew would look weak if you managed to escape again, and that would weaken their position.
Things between New York and Chicago haven’t exactly gone well in the last few months.
“Because of me?”
“Not just because of you,” Aria said. “Luca and Dante don’t get along very well. They are both alphas who are not used to working with equals.”
“I don’t suppose you know a way to get rid of that?” I pointed my finger at my black chain.
“NO. Is it very inconvenient?”
I shrugged. “Not really, but I hate it. And I can say goodbye to short skirts and dresses unless I want everyone to think I’m a criminal.
Aria lightly touched my arm. “I’m sure Matteo will take it off soon.”
“I doubt it.” If I were him, I wouldn’t trust me anytime soon. Probably never.
Aria’s eyes darted back to my hair. She had been doing this ever since she first saw me with the new color.
I ran a hand over my hair. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“I’m not used to it. Maybe I will like it. But I miss your red hair.
“Me too,” I said. “Matthew also hates my brown hair .”
“Don’t tell me you’ll stay brunette because you want to bother him?” asked Aria with a look of understanding.
I was not that childish. Maybe six months ago that would have been my reaction, but being on the run helped me grow up. I wouldn’t keep my hair a color I didn’t like to bother Matthew. There were other ways I could make life more difficult for him, and I hoped to explore as many as possible. “I’ll get him back to my natural hair color as soon as I get a chance. Do you think Matteo will freak out if we leave the apartment to look for a hairdresser?
“Probably. You’ve been married less than a day.
Maybe you should try to maintain your best behavior at least for today.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said sarcastically.
Aria stood up. “It’s almost lunchtime. Let’s get something to eat and I’ll call my hairdresser and ask her to come and do your hair, okay?”
I stood up. “Perfect. I’m starving.” I followed Aria toward the kitchen area. Romero laid the phone on the counter, his eyes and posture alert as we approached.
Sandro had probably warned him about us. This reminded me of something I had wanted to ask Aria ever since I had run away. I waited for her to finish her phone call with her hairdresser and make us a salad before moving on to the topic.
“Did you have many problems with Luca for helping me ?” I asked quietly. I didn’t want Romero to hear us.
He seemed quite busy talking on the phone, probably with Matteo or Luca checking up on us.
Aria’s face contracted. “He was angry at first, but he forgave me. I think he understood that I would never leave him.
She and Luca seemed happy enough, but sometimes outward appearances can be deceiving, and I wasn’t quite sure Aria was telling the truth. She wasn’t going to say something that would make me feel guilty.
“Are you sure?”
“Isn’t that my line?” she asked jokingly.
I smiled. “You’ve taught me a thing or two.”
“Good to know.”
“There’s something else I’ve been wondering,” I said quietly. “How did Matteo find me?” “Luca didn’t really tell me about the search. He knew I would warn you. Do you think it might have been the blog? I think Luca checked my laptop. I tried to warn you.”
“I tried not to mention locations in my blog posts. But maybe they could track my location through my blog. Who knows?”
The bell rang. Romero headed for the elevator before Aria or I could move. “Will he ever leave us alone?” I asked when he was out of earshot.
“Not anytime soon,” Aria said with a shrug. She rose from her chair to greet the woman in her 40s who entered the penthouse with two huge bags. Aria introduced me to her hairdresser and five minutes later we had set up a chair in the bathroom and my hair was covered with cream that was supposed to restore it to its original color, not immediately but after several treatments.
Fortunately, I was allowed to walk around while the color reacted with my hair. Aria lent me her laptop and I settled down at the dining room table. In terror, I searched German websites for any news of murder in Munich. It did not take me long to see the article that mentioned Sid’s death. The police had no leads. My former roommates had to move out for the time being, and I doubted they would return to the apartment where Sid had met his end. The newspaper mentioned me, or rather my pseudonym Gwen, and that the police were looking for her as a witness.
There was no picture of me, thank God. I was always careful not to appear in any photos. But there was a picture of Sid with his guitar.
My stomach clenched with sadness and remorse. Aria put a hand on my shoulder. “You shouldn’t read it.
There’s nothing you can do, Gianna.
I slowly close the laptop. There was one thing I could have done. I could have told the police who was responsible for Sid’s death so that his family could find peace, but it was something I would never have done. There were some rules that even I would not have broken. I was not stupid or suicidal.
Aria’s worried look did not leave me as I went back to the bathroom to wash my hair. “I’m fine,” I whispered, but she didn’t seem to believe it, and neither did I. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of emotions and changes. I had hardly had time to reflect on all that had happened, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Maybe Aria was right and I should have tried to move on and put the past behind me.
The problem was that I wasn’t sure I could do that. Didn’t I owe it to my conscience and to Sid if I showed some contempt, if I didn’t settle into my new life with Matthew as if nothing had happened?