Page 8 of Blackmailed Marriage

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t. It’s … horrible.”

There was silence on the line. Aria hated the silence.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“I think you should tell me about how horrible you think sex is,” Isabella asked.

Aria felt her cheeks heating. “It’s … it’s painful, and there’s nothing to be enjoyed. You know how it is, and I don’tthink it’s that good. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so tactless.”

Isabella laughed. “Oh, honey, it doesn’t have to be that way. Yes, sex with your husband might not be what you’re looking for, but have you ever read one of those books I gave you? There are different ways for a woman to get her enjoyment, and you don’t always need a man to give it to you.”

She was about to ask more questions but then there was a large bang on Isabella’s side. “I’ve got to go. Until next time.”

Before Aria had chance to say goodbye, the line died on her, which sucked.

She looked at her phone and then reached up and dropped it back into the cradle, before rolling over onto her back. Sex. She had stopped reading the romance novels since her wedding night.

Dante had not swept her off her feet. This was worse than an arranged marriage. There was nothing arranged about this. Dante had been blackmailed into marrying her. At least with an arranged marriage there was a small chance of them falling in love. She would never love Dante.

Since he had left this morning, she’d been trying to figure out where her father would keep evidence that had made professionals unable to locate it. She knew her father had more properties than the main family home. He’d been rewarded them by his own father.

Aria ran a hand down her face. He wouldn’t trust a safe deposit box, or any other means. Her father would keep it close to him, which had to mean at one of his offices, possibly in the safe, but it wouldn’t be one that was easily located. It would have to be in his bedroom.

Her parents didn’t share a bedroom, at least not in the time she’d been aware of her parents’ living situation. As a kid, she didn’t pay much attention to them.

Then, after watching movies and lots of TV shows, shestarted to ask questions, to which she’d often get told to shut up.

That had to be where he’d keep the information. She didn’t have a clue how she was going to get into her father’s room. Her stomach started to grumble. She had forgotten about dinner, and she had even allowed the staff to leave for a half day. She was given permission to do that.

In the large house, she was never alone. There were always soldiers lurking about, watching, keeping an eye. She was used to seeing guns and men ready to act. Growing up in similar circumstances made it easier to live with.

She stepped out of her bedroom, still putting on a robe. Soldiers were everywhere, and they would look away, but she valued her privacy and dignity. No one was ever going to accuse her of catching the eye of a soldier. She’d heard many tales, most of them gossip or rumors. However, in her world, when a woman went missing, with no body to be found, and rumors began to circulate, there was a chance it was the truth.

Aria couldn’t help but wonder what life was like for other people. The people who were not part of any mafia or family that had strict rules to follow. All her life, she’d constantly been told what to do. Over the years, she found herself watching strangers, seeing the way they walked and how they were with one another.

There were wives who would stand by their husband’s side without a single care in the world. Laughing, happy, excited about their life. She knew it happened in her own world, but they were so fleeting, it always seemed to be gone in a blink of an eye.

She stepped into the kitchen. The main light was off, but there were several beneath the cupboards on the wall that gave the kitchen a soft glow. Some might even consider it romantic.

Walking toward the sink, she reached into the cupboard on the left and grabbed a small glass. At first, she was tempted by a mug of hot chocolate, but now, all she wanted to do was have some water and go to bed. It was getting late.

She had no idea when Dante was going to be home, and she’d rather avoid any more confrontation with him. In the next few weeks, she needed to come up with a plan. One that meant she went back to her family home and then found some way to sneak into her father’s bedroom.

The only way she was going to do that was if she took Isabella with her. Her sister would be the one who’d invite her back home. Her family didn’t need her now, and as far as they were concerned, she had no choice but to do her duty. She just couldn’t tell her sister what she hoped to achieve. The less people who knew about her plot, the better.

Finishing off the water, she cleaned the glass, dried it, and then put it back in place. Once she was done, she spun around and nearly had a heart attack. She had no idea Dante was even home, or that he’d entered the kitchen.

“Dante,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

“That was not my intention.”

Her heart was racing. She hoped she’d not spoken aloud about any part of her plan.

“I don’t imagine it was.” She was not going to freak out. Laughing, she couldn’t help but look toward the doorway right behind him and hope for a chance to escape. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk.

They stood, opposite sides of the kitchen. She was still near the sink, Dante in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing a jacket anymore. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and he looked angry.

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