Tonight was Russo Security's annual dinner party. We had offices all over Italy and some in California, and this party happened every year in Rome so everyone involved in the company's success could enjoy a night.
We had also invited Executives from Moretti Enterprises so to celebrate signing them as long term clients. It was a milestone celebration for our company, a mere obligation for them.
I haven't seen Griffin since the day he dropped me off at the house, and the sheer morbidity of my situation that morning had been dawning at me many times over the past two days, and I had been plagued with anxiety. I had slept over at his penthouse. I wore his shirt as I made us breakfast.
The intimacy of it all haunted me now more than it did then, because I had been on some sort of post drunken stupor. A glorified hangover if you will. I resented the idea that Griffin may have thought so too. Sometimes I let too much of my personality show. My real personality, not my carefully crafted, timid and needy for accomplishment one.
I had spent so long trying to get the perfect grades, get accepted into the best school and land the most pristine job, I couldn't believe one candidate moment had caused such a huge lapse in my mask. There in his penthouse, I felt like a different person. He felt like a different person. We were both untethered from whatever trepidations held us back outside of those four walls.
But those were my feelings. Who knows if he felt even an ounce of all that.
I look at myself in the mirror, self-doubt tainted the beauty of my makeup and dress. The dress was made for someone who could carry it with confidence. Not me, as melancholy and uncertainty clouded around me like shadows lurking to take me down.
I am only 22 and yet, my life felt decided.
Flashback "Why wouldn't you just live with Dad's family if you loved Italy so much?" A 17 year old me asked my mom.
"Because Italy wasn't the problem honey, they were. They're.. way of living," She pauses, unsure. "It was less than ideal for me, and I couldn't imagine bringing you into that world."
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"They're old fashioned people, sweetheart. There are things I can't protect you from, even as far away as we are from them." she brushes back my hair.
"Like what?"
"Well arranged marriages are common in their world, your dad and I had to go through a plethora of obstacles to be together. But they see the same fate for you. If a Russo doesn't find a suitable, by their definition, partner at age 25, they have to marry someone of the families choosing. In an alliance if sorts." A frown creases her brows as if the thought makes her angry to no end. Which I am sure it does.
I gulp at the description of my paternal side of the family. Were they really that bad?
"And when your Grandfather let your dad marry me, he made us promise we would adhere to the legacy for all of our children." She scoffs. "That is why I stopped bringing you there, darling. I do not agree with their rules." Mom sighs.
"But don't you worry, we'll find you a love match before then." she smiles brightly for my benefit, even as dark and unwelcome thoughts plague my head. ___________
I blink at my reflection, trying to clear away the words. Even though the picture of my father's family was painted cold and unyielding, I never could bring myself to hate them. How could I hate them when I loved my dad so very much? And he loved his family. You could see it in the way he would animatedly talk about his childhood, or how he would tell his stories after he came back from visiting Italy without me or mom.
I just wished I had more clarity on what an arranged marriage at 25 even meant. I knew the basic things but what about the details? Who would I have to marry, would I even get a say? If I fell in love with a barista from Huntington Beach, would they make me break up with him?
I sighed, toying with my diamonds as they rested around my neck, cold and regal. Another wave of undecided what if's crashed into me. Was I Ariel, the beach going, icecream at sunset, average at best surfer?
Or was I Ariel Russo. Partial heiress to Russo Security. Part of a traditional Italian family that believed in alliance induced arranged marriages and went to fancy gala's and dinner parties wearing floor length dresses and diamonds.
I wasn't sure where this existential crisis causing train of thought had come from, but I knew it would be my whole night if I didn't regroup now and leave for the party.
I focused on my dress. The Vivienne Westwood piece was long enough to be classy, and ended just at my ankles for a look of casual elegance. It made me look every bit the dutiful grandchild I was meant to be. With matching pink heels and simple diamonds on my neck, ears and wrist, I looked and felt good. Fancy.
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My generous cleavage showed through and at the tops of the dress but it was tasteful, not trashy. I'd left my hair down in waves and done light makeup with a brown smoky eye.
I wasn't worried about seeing Griffin, his chances of showing up were slim, if not zero. He was the CEO, he didn't need to attend the party, it was below his pay grade.
And I don't want to see him. It's hard enough to not think about him while he isn't around. And when he is, it feels like he takes over my entire being.
I just wanted my time in Italy to provide clarity, not confuse me further with the lush exotic-ness of certain green eyed delicacies. So I had to be discerning about everything I did while I was here.
And not make my uncle suspicious, if he wasn't already.
AN:
To the people reading this one, thankyou 🩵
Do you like it so far? I can't tell if people hate it 🥲
