ARIA
When I exited the bathroom, Sandro was nowhere to be found. My apartment was empty, lacking any sort of life besides myself. I was surprised and also partially concerned to see that he had locked my front door after leaving.
I need to ask him how the fuck he got into my place the next time I see him.
My steps halted immediately. I scowled to myself. The next time I see him? Surely there wouldn't be a next time.
I decided to get started on my dinner, so I could drink my tablets on a satisfied stomach and climb into my bed. Opening my fridge, I was disappointed to find that nothing seemed appealing.
I grabbed a bottle of water and gulped down half the contents. I nearly spat out the liquid when a loud knock came from my door. It startled me, and I coughed a few times when the water nearly choked me.
I wiped my mouth, hesitantly heading to the door. Did he decide to come back? My door didn't have a peephole, and I was not about to open it to a stranger. "Who's it?" I called out, narrowing my eyes.
"Food delivery for...Aria." An unfamiliar voice responded from the other side. Food? I frowned in confusion. I didn't remembering ordering anything and I certainly did not have the money to pay for it.
I paused for a moment. Did he...?
Opening the door, I pressed my knee against it just in case. There was a young man standing there, dressed in a red uniform with a matching cap. In his hands he held a large brown paper bag.
"I didn't order anything," I told him, glancing down to the bag. He pursed his lips, and I saw the attempt to hide his annoyance. Not that I blamed him. I would definitely be annoyed too.
"Mr Galanti ordered it to be delivered to this address. It's already paid for." He lifted it, shoving it to my arms. I held the food, still feeling very confused. Without another word, the young man turned on his heels and headed down towards the stairs. Mr Galanti.
Alessandro Galanti.
I kicked the door closed, heading to my kitchen. I was curious about what he had gotten me. I set it down on the table, and unfolded the top before gazing down at the contents inside. I gasped, recognising the familiar take-away packaging of my favourite Thai restaurant.
And it was the exact same dish I had ordered when I lunched with Tammy.
I didn't know whether to be happy that he thought to get me food or scared that he knew what I would want.
Was feeling both even possible?
My stomach grumbled – a tell-tale of how hungry I actually was. I hadn't eaten all day, and seeing the food laid out in front of me made my mouth water. I couldn't help but assume that it was Sandro's attempt at softening me up. But nevertheless, it was free food and who was I to decline a meal? With that being said, I opened the packaging and grabbed my chopsticks from the drawer.
Plopping on the couch, I switched the television on and kicked my feet up. It felt so good to relax. It felt even better to eat something. Watching a random telenovela, I finished my food within minutes.
I forgot all about the green-eyed man pestering me.
When I was done, and satisfied, I took the painkiller and got ready for bed, not forgetting to double check that the door was locked. And that the latches were in firmly in place. I doubt that the tiny metal couldn't keep Sandro out but it was worth the try and worth the tiniest bit of security it offered me.
I scoffed to myself – how dare he leave me feeling uneasy when he wasn't even here.
But he got me food...
That's how easy it was to win me over.
Climbing into the covers, I leaned over and switched my lamp off. It surprisingly didn't take long for me to fall into a dreamless sleep.
•••
"Keep the change," A man, who seemed to be at least in his late thirties winked at me.
He handed me the bill, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was checking me out. I stopped myself from cringing – knowing that I should have been used to the inappropriate looks from the patrons by now.
I offered a polite smile, masking my discomfort.
"Thank you. Enjoy your day." I turned away from, gripping the pen and bill. I gasped when a calloused hand wrapped around my arm, effectively stopping me.
A shiver of disgust racked through me as the stranger smirked, eyeing me from the booth he was sitting in. I ripped my arm out of his hold, furrowing my brows and that's when his smirk dropped. A menacing and dangerous look replaced it.
"Come on." He glanced at the nametag on my chest. "Aria. Pretty name. Let's meet after your shift." There was lust in his eyes – that much was evident. And the way he interlaced his fingers on the table was everything but innocent.
"No, thank you," I said, attempting to walk away from him when his disgusting hand stopped me again.
What the fuck is this guy's issue?
I freed my arm from his hold, having to use the necessary force to do so. There was anger boiling me – and it was about to overfill at any second.
"I said no." My voice was firm, unshaken. We hadn't drawn much attention; most of the customers seemed occupied by their own matters.
"Why? You got a man?" he asked, and my jaw nearly hit the fucking ground. He had the nerve to narrow his eyes at me. As if he was losing his patience. Too many times there was a situation where men felt it was appropriate to lay their hands on me – and too many times I let it slide.
I scoffed at him, the disgust on my face painfully obvious. If only he had caught the hint. "I'm only allowed to say no if I have someone?"
"That's usually how it works.," he said, amused. But I wasn't laughing – not at all.
Rolling my eyes at him, I decided I was done talking with him. He had other plans. The same hand grabbed my wrist, wrapping around me so tightly to the point that it hurt. He was rough. And the anger on his face scared me.
"Are you fucking serious?" I yelled out, and it made every customer in the diner look in our direction. But I didn't care- I was fed up and ready to cause a scene. I should have done it the first time he touched me.
Even upon witnessing that this man was harassing- not one person in the diner stood up. The humiliation sunk in – all eyes were on me but they were just watching the show. The man smirked when he saw nobody was coming to my defence.
"See? Nobody gives a fuck but you," he murmured. And it stung because he was right.
"Don't touch me again-"
I didn't hear the door open. I didn't hear the footsteps. But I did hear the sound of a gun cocking. I looked around for the source of noise when my eyes landed on Alessandro, and he had his gun pointed directly at the stranger whose hand flew off me as if I burned him.
All the customers gasped simultaneously and rushed out the diner, not wanting to be a witness to a vicious crime. My heart was pounding, and I'm sure it missed a beat when Sandro pulled me to stand alongside him.
I could immediately feel the difference in the touch, it might have been my emotions fooling me but I swear it was just different. There wasn't ill-intent behind it, even though he was the one holding the murderous weapon.
The proximity. The heat of his body. Dammit.
I should probably stop him before he blows this persons brain out.
But I was kind of enjoying how scared the culprit suddenly seemed.
The man raised both his hands, a terrified and shaken expression on his face. Not so confident now, huh?
"I-I-m sorry. I didn't – I wasn't going to-" He stumbled over his words. Sandro said nothing, and then he averted his glare to the cooks, keeping his gun raised and his finger on the trigger. Fuck – I should really stop him.
"You're just watching?" he asked, and I saw their eyes widen as he addressed them.
The main cook made eye-contact with me, silently pleading and all I could do was look away. I knew it wasn't their fault for not stepping in but I just needed to get out of there. Disappointment laid heavily on my chest.
"Don't look at her. Look at me. Answer my question. You're just watching?" he asked, and it was scary how fucking calm he was. The man who had a gun pointed to his head was still shaking in his boots, keeping his hands up as he attempted to soften me with an apologetic façade.
He was only sorry because there was a man bigger than him involved now.
Theirs mouths opened and closed, mimicking a fish out of water.
"We- she wasn't-" he stuttered, eyes scurrying between the both of us. I wasn't what?
Sandro laughed humourlessly. It sent chills over my skin because of how dangerous it sounded. And he wasn't playing around. His finger inched closer to the trigger, and that's when the situation finally sunk in.
He was about to blow a hole through this man's skull.
"No." I shook my head, and this finally made him look at me. Pissed was an understatement. Anger swirled in his eyes, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He seemed to be contemplating his next move, but I was already grabbing my bag from the counter and getting ready to leave.
On top of everything that happened, I was still on my fucking period.
I was happy that Gertrude wasn't working- fearing she might have suffered a heart attack because of the entire ordeal. It was the only upside to the piece of shit day I was having. I gathered my things, fully prepared to just go home and cry my heart out.
Even if I wasn't fired, I could never show my face there again. I had embarrassed myself enough.
"Aria," Sandro called out, but I ignored him and exited the diner. He swore underneath his breath, and I heard him give instructions to another man that I didn't notice.
The one who grabbed my arm started voicing his apologies, but it went through one ear and out the other as I stepped outside and into fresh air. Fuck that.
I did not want to deal with that anymore.
How was I going to afford to live?
"Aria."
Why did he have to say my name like that?
Before the door could shut behind me, Sandro was already stepping out and searching for me. When our eyes locked, I was the first to look away.
He didn't seem angry anymore, just upset at the fact that I was walking away from him.
Who was Alessandro? What did he do? Why was he there? I had so many questions, but I paid no mind to it as I practically speed walked down the pavement.
But he was quicker than me and he reached me in a blink of an eye.
"I don't understand why you're mad at me," he said as he rounded my body, stopping in front of me and I was forced to look up at him.
I glared at him through my teary eyes. Why the fuck was I crying? I hated that I was such an easy crier. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his gun out of sight.
I didn't know what to say. I made a move to go around him, but he side stepped and effectively stopped me. He wasn't budging, but his pursed lips indicated that he was close to losing his patience. So was I.
The words were caught in my throat. I knew I should've thanked him. I knew I should've expressed my gratitude. He did, after all, save me from a creep.
I just couldn't do it. What could I say? 'Thank you for pulling a gun out in the middle of my work place and saving my ass'
"I'll give you your space," he murmured, and it was the last thing I expected. He took a step back, and my shoulders slumped in relief.
"If you're thinking that I did that because I expect anything in return, you're wrong," he said, assuring me that he had no hidden agenda.
I didn't know if I believed him. As messed up as that sounded, I was still very sceptical.
He turned around, making his way to a sleek black Koenigsegg parked in front of the diner. He almost looked...offended. I sighed, not knowing how to feel. I was about to walk down the pavement, when his voice stopped me.
"Nobody is going to fuck with you, Aria. Nobody." And with that, he climbed into his car and sped away.
• • •