Page 5 of Wicked Union

"I know what you're thinking but killing Hector Peralta isn't a good idea. Think about it. If and when it gets tracked back to you, you'll start a war with your allies. And the enemy of your enemy is your friend." He points two fingers at me, cigar pinched between them. "Don't think the Uhkovs aren't watching this alliance unfold. Peralta's demise would mean the Uhkovs and Peraltas join together, and who will fight against them then?"

I'm unsettled by his statement, but I do understand what he's getting at. If I anger the organization as a whole, they don't truly pose a threat to me. But If I anger them enough that my enemies take notice, I'll be buried. The Uhkovs aren't above befriendinganother syndicate in the city to take me out. Right now, we are kings, but it would only take a minor blunder to bring us down.

"I'm going to do it. I'll figure out how and when, but Hector Peralta's entire territory, his businesses, his trades, the frontage, all of it will be mine. And his men will either follow suit and align with the Ramiro family or they will be terminated.”

"And the heir?" Father asks, lowering his hand to his lap. His fingers shake, but it's not from the way the car rumbles over potholes. He's getting sicker by the day and refuses treatment now. I will be taking over more and more of the business on a daily basis, and I'm ready for that.

"Do you mean Jasper? He will fall in line like the rest. If he's well behaved, I'll give him a seat of honor at the gentlemen's meetings. If not, he's out. If you're meaning Aria's firstborn… Do you think I’ll ever let my son sit as the heir to another man's throne?" I scoff. "Not a chance in hell my son will ever run Peralta's organization unless he runs mine at the same time—as one unit. This city isn't big enough for two Italian Families. Hector has to know this. He's doing the right thing by coming to us, and he knows my plans. He has to see it. It's the only thing that makes sense. I will rule both families by year's end. You'll see."

The car continues its journey toward my father's home, and all I can do is revel in the fact that my life is about to change for the good.

5

ARIA

Ishove the clothing into the bag knowing it will never come back to this house. I've already packed several boxes this week, which thanks to Mr. Ramiro are being delivered to my new house any minute. It's not a home, not to me. My home is here where my heart is. With my family.

"I know you're not happy about this,cara, but there is so much to be thankful for even still." Mom takes my hand, and though it's balled up into a fist, she holds it. "I'm proud of you for doing this for your family. I know that God himself is smiling at you."

The idea that any god would allow any of this to happen is preposterous, but I leave my thoughts about the spiritual silent. I don't need to jump into that debate right now when my heart is already so heavy with grief over what I've just done.

Marrying myself to a family that has been pressuring us to forfeit our power and territory for years is, in my mind, the worst idea in the world. But with no other bargaining chips or way out of the mess, it was all my father could do.

"God has a funny way of showing how proud he is." I pull my hand away and reach into my dresser to take a stack of clothing and carry it to my bag. "You think he'll be smiling at me when that man is using my body as his personal sex toy?" The comment is off-color, and Mom doesn't respond to me. I wonder if she ever felt like that in the beginning, when she first married my father. I know what Tito Ramiro wants tonight, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

"There you are,mio caro." I hear my father's voice and turn immediately with a smile on my face. It's not as fake as it could be because my father really is the light of my life, and I really will do anything to please him and serve him. He's a good man, with a good heart. "You look so radiant."

He moves toward me with both arms extended until they wrap around me in a tight hug. I pull away and nod at the clothing in my hands. I'm afraid to speak for fear that my voice will crack and the hot, angry tears will fall. Dad doesn't need to see me break down. It will only cause him guilt, and this is all my doing. All my choice.

"Is he sending a car?" Dad asks, and I hear him following me. His soft footfalls are so quiet all the time. He's practically a ghost.

"Uh, no." I look up at Mom, whose distress is very obviously scrawled on her face. She doesn't seem to get the point that the reason I’m doing this is to alleviate my father's worries and stresses. A man his age should never have stress like this. His heart might be a ticking time bomb. "Mom's driver will take me." I set the clothing into the bag and turn around to face him. His eyes are looking at Mom.

"We can still back out of this. It's not too late. An annulment is possible." Now his eyes are pleading with me to change my stance, and I can't take it. If he asks me one more time, I'm going to cave and quit the whole arrangement.

"Papa, please. This marriage is good for you, for our family." My eyes burn with unshed tears which I blink back, but I move toward him with a smile. "It's a good thing. My life has purpose and meaning now. I'm bringing new life to the Peralta name." I cup his hands in mine and look him directly in the eye.

"Oh, dear, you seem so unhappy." Mom's exasperated plea doesn't help my case.

"I'm perfectly happy to know my family is saved. You both gave me so much life and wisdom, and I can repay that here and now." I pat Dad's hands and turn to zip up my bag. "I'm ready when you are."

Perhaps the only thing missing from this interaction is that my siblings aren't here. I don't know where they are, but Melody did mention not having the heart to see me packing up. We've spent so long under this same roof. Even when Jasper moved out, we cried. He lives with a few buddies in Santa Monica now in some big, ritzy house, but Melody will miss me dearly.

"Well, then," Dad says, and his smile is slightly deflated. "Don’t be a stranger." He pats my shoulder. "We'll have a family dinner on Sunday evening if you don't have plans."

"I'll talk to Tito," I tell him, as if I even care what that ogre thinks.

It's a rough few minutes of goodbyes until my things are loaded into Mom's car and I'm seated in the backseat with her. Her driver pulls the car into traffic and turns toward the highway,and I wilt. I can't keep complaining to her. Every time I do, she tries to convince me to give up. I have to keep my negative feelings to myself because now I know it isn't just my father's heart I'm protecting. It's everyone's. They all have to see that I'm happy to do this, even though I'm devastated.

"It won’t be so bad," Mom says, still trying to cheer me up. I don’t say a word. I just let her speak her mind. "You'll see. A man has certain duties toward his wife. You won't have to work if you don't want to. You'll never lift a finger around the house. I’m sure he has maids and servants, as we do."

I roll my eyes but I don't let her see it. That sounds like just about the most boring existence I can fathom.

"Soon, you'll have a child to care for, hopefully a son. He will be the heir to your father's fortune and organization one day, and you'll see how loved he is. Things will change then. Your husband will respect you more."

Is that how it went for her, I wonder? She bore a son and finally, she felt wanted in the marriage by proxy, not by right? I keep my thoughts to myself, and soon enough, we are parked in front of the Ramiro house. It's much different from his father's sprawling estate. Tito's home is new and modern, though it looks like it cost a fortune.

I climb out of the car without waiting on the driver to open for me and stand in front of a narrow swath of property with a tall property fence painted gray. The black Range Rover parked in front has chrome trim and rims that spin even when it sits here parked and off. It's flashy and obnoxious, just how I imagine Tito is in every way.

---