Book One
Aria Rossi grows up is in a family war between her family and the Violante's. This story follows her journey as a young sheltered child through the challenges that arise ahead.
Lies, loyalty, deceit, ambition, pain, trust, love, and fami...
"We are broken up!" I groan, sitting down heavily at the kitchen table. I spent last night at my parent's home but returned to argue with Orlando about this past week. We have been going in a roundabout conversation for an hour already with no resolution. I am frustrated and exhausted. Polar paws at my leg so I pick him up, letting him settle down in my lap. He knows we have been fighting, hating the sound of it.
"Yes," Orlando agrees, arms crossed as he leans against the counter.
I look up at him, tears in my eyes. "I don't want this."
"Me neither," He sighs softly. "I hate everything about this."
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"Everyone thinks I've forgiven you," I say carefully. "After last night when we were dancing, they took it as 'we're ok now'."
"What do you want, Ari?" He asks, coming over to sit down next to me.
I can smell his cologne, a subtle-smoky smell that smells like home to me. It makes this harder. "I don't want you to hate me! I don't want to see you with other women. I want you, even after the fight!" I whimper, letting my tears fall. "It's not normal! It's not rational. We have to break up or else I won't give you up."
Orlando puts his face in his hands. "I can't share you with them anymore. Either you're mine-" He stops, taking a shaky breath to compose himself. "Either you're with me, or we're done."
Seeing him hurt like this breaks something inside of me. This was a long time coming, breaking it off with Djordje and Zayn. It was never a sustainable solution. Over the last few months, I saw them less and less, but it felt safe whenever I explored things with them. I now understood his anger at seeing me with them. I understood how he hated the thought of me in their beds. After seeing him with the women last night, I was wrong and he was right. "I'm sorry," I whisper, swallowing my pride. "I'm sorry for not giving them up sooner. I won't be with them anymore. I promise."
He looks up at me, his jaw tight. "So what? We just go back to the way it was before the fight? We talk, laugh, joke, and pretend nothing happened?"
I shrug, wiping the wetness from my cheeks. "I don't know."
He slams his fist on the table, making me flinch. Polar growls softly in my lap, lifting his head to stare at Orlando. "That's bullshit! We aren't good for each other right now, Ari! I broke a window on you. I could have seriously hurt you."
"You won't do it again," I say, reaching over to touch his hand.
"You don't know that!" He cries, yanking away from my touch as if my hand is made of hot metal.
"So hurt me," I say, throwing my hands up. If he is going to, at least I will be semi-prepared. "Do it right now!"
He stares at me, eyes wide. "I will never touch you like that again, baby. I swear!"
