"What experience do you have with families like mine?" I scoff.
"Dominique. I helped him with many things," she says, looking at me sternly. "I can be a great asset."
"You know what, I believe you." I smile awkwardly at her. "I believe you because you seem to know how to keep to yourself. It's almost as though you're a hidden gem, something no one knows anything about."
Marido pulls up to the house, and I get out, going around to open the door for Aria. "Why don't you visit with Mama while I report back to Marco about what happened today? Marido will be with you until I'm done."
"I feel safer with you, but okay," she says. She follows Marido into the house.
I take out my phone and dial Marco's number.
"What is it, little brother?" he asks, sounding breathless.
"Who is it?" a woman's voice purrs in the background.
"Someone tried to attack Aria today," I say calmly. My brother doesn't deserve a good woman.
"Do we know who?" he asks. "Get off me," he growls, and I hear the woman whine impatiently.
"No, but I'll try to find out. The guy is dead, though."
"Good, it sends a message. Thanks, Franco. What would I do without you?"
He hangs up, and I look at the house.
Dangerous thoughts are playing in my head. Dangerous thoughts of Aria in my arms.
On the one hand, I do not wish to betray my brother like that, but on the other hand, I know he deserves whatever comes to him for being an absolute lowlife. He doesn't deserve Aria. He doesn't deserve someone as beautiful and soft as her. She was meant to be mine, and I might yet make her mine again.
*
Chapter 4
Aria
That knife attack was not because I'm marrying Marco. As important as Franco thinks his family is, he doesn't know me or my history, and I know people are looking for me, people who want me dead.
I can't investigate, though, because Franco is with me twenty-four-seven, and my cell phone, laptop, and even my mail is being checked. I have no privacy except to go to the bathroom, and I'm sure once I'm married, I won't even have that.
Marco is terrible. He comes home smelling of cheap perfume and alcohol, and I know he's fucking his way through every woman he can. I don't know if he intends to stop once he's married, but somehow, I doubt it, and somehow, I think I'm going to land up with an STI.
Franco, on the other hand, is more conservative. I know he flirts with Claira, but I'm pretty sure he only does it to rile me up. Sometimes, I catch him looking at me with those dark eyes, and I wonder what he's thinking of. What dream is he having in that depraved mind of his? I know what men are like especially mobsters, and they think they're entitled to everything, even women.
He doesn't act that way, though. When he guides me somewhere, his touch to the small of my back is gentle, and when he speaks to me now, since the knife attack, there's a gentleness to his voice. As though he's worried about my well-being, not because I'm going to be his brother's wife but because he actually cares. I'm not sure how to handle that.
Being in the room next to his, I'm aware of our extremely close proximity, and I know Marco arranged it that way to torture Franco. He is right. He was supposed to be the one that I married. Now that I've gotten to know him over the last few days, I kind of wish he was the one I was marrying.
A wager. Marco said that Franco won a wager. Was the price me? Did he gamble me away? That doesn't say much about his character. Unless it was Marco's idea, and I can believe that. I believe that Marco would want to make a fool out of his brother by stealing his bride.
The more I think about it, the more I think I'm marrying the wrong man. It bothers me so much that I start to have nightmares about it. I wake up in the middle of the night and look around my room wildly. I can hear a grunting sound. It must be what disturbed me.
Curious, I leave my room and follow it to Franco's kind of open door. I peek in, even though I've already figured out what the sound is. I can see Franco reflected in his mirror. His head is tipped back as his hand works his cock. He grunts softly. I see him squeeze his cock as he moves his hand, and his other hand goes to fondle his balls. I feel a heat between my legs. He's larger than average and thicker. My mouth waters involuntarily as I watch his firm strokes.
"Aria," he grunts.
I bite my lip.
He's thinking of me.