Page 51 of Beautiful Enemy

Aria sits up straighter in her seat, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “No. I’m also angry with you. For what you represent. You’re a Bratva daughter. That doesn’t make you a good person.”

“And you’re a Mafia daughter. How are we any different?”

I can tell Aria is wavering. She probably expected me to come in here and beg for my life, crying and kicking. She didn’t expect me to be as calm and collected as I am.

I’ve always been a rational thinker. When Anya married Erik, I knew that would mean my life was in my father’s hands and I was prepared for it.

What I haven’t been prepared for is Dante. He’s thrown me off my axis. He’s made me feel things I’ve never felt before.

And yet, he’s still my enemy and I need to get away from him.

I think Aria might be able to help me, if I can get her to view me differently. “If I could make my father fix his wrongs to you, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat. I don’t care that you’re part of the Mafia. You were just a little girl.”

Her eyes flash. “But you can’t. You’re Dante’s prisoner. You’re not going anywhere.”

“And I know I’m not as young as you were when you were kidnapped. I’m twenty-one. Not twelve. But I’ve been kept sheltered for all of my life. I haven’t seen most of the world. Haven’t experienced it. I am young. And I know what it’s like to be scared. How it feels to have your voice clench because you’re so frightened to speak and how it feels to have your stomach drop to your toes because the anxiety within you is getting to be too much.”

I can feel Dante looking at me but I keep my eyes focused on Aria. “I understand, Aria. If anyone in this room understands what you went through, it’s me.”

Shelets out a long breath as her eyes soften. “You’re right. You do understand. But you will always be Bratva scum to me.”

“Ok,” I whisper, all my fight leaving my body. I tried with Aria. Tried to get her to see that I’m in the boat she was once in. But she will never see me as anything other than the family I’m tied to. I’m still paying for my father’s crimes.

“I need to use the restroom,” I tell Dante. If I don’t leave right this second, I’m going to start bawling my eyes out and I cannot have these three Mafia people see me that way.

He nods. “But don’t get any funny ideas.”

“It’s down the hall,” Elio says.

“Thank you.” I hurry out of the room and make it to the hall before I stop and press myself against the wall, letting silent tears fall down my face.

“What was that all about?” Elio asks.

“What?” Aria responds.

I tense as I listen to them. They don’t know I’m here but that could work in my favor. My father would always get so angry with me if I ever eavesdropped but my father isn’t here right now. I have to do what I have to do.

“You need to be careful. That girl is the daughter of Sergei Belov. I don’t want this messing with your mind again.”

“It won’t,” Aria responds sullenly. “I just want her to feel as afraid as I did.”

“Trust me,” Dante cuts in. “She feels afraid all the time.”

“And yet, you’ve dressed her up like a doll and took her to our house for dinner,” Aria snaps. “She looks more like your girlfriend than your prisoner.”

Dante doesn’t respond. What I would give to see his facial expression. To know what he’s thinking.

A chair scrapes back and footsteps head right in my direction. I gasp and hurry to the bathroom but don’t make it in time. Aria finds me in the hallway.

“Where you listening?”

“No,” I say too quickly.

She huffs. “You were listening.” How is it possible that a sixteen year old girl can make me feel so inadequate? Guess it’s just a power teenagers have. It’s one neither me or Anya ever had. Not when our father instilled terror into us every day.

“I am curious,” she says, coming closer. “You said you know that your father is a bad man. Most girls in our world praise their fathers, even if they’re not good. So why don’t you?”

Here’s another chance.

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