Page 139 of Fighting With Light
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
Mom hits a button on the side table. It’s a call system for one of the maids to bring her things when she needs them. She hardly leaves her suite as it is.
“You know, Mom, I think we should go outside and get some fresh air.”
“Oh, I would love to, but I’m tired. Open the windows, please,” she suggests.
Dammit.I stand up and open the curtains, and light floods into the room. She squints a little as I lift the blinds and open the windows. A burst of warm air comes through the window, and she takes a deep breath. It’s a win in my book, but it doesn’t solve my problem.
While we wait for our lunch, I go into her closet and put some things in a bag. There are no suitcases because she doesn’t go anywhere, so a large tote will have to suffice.
After I stuff it full of things I think she’ll need, I wait for lunch to come before pulling the iPad out from behind the dresser. Mom focuses on the window as she eats her sandwich, and I go to the bathroom with the device.
I was able to sneak a charging cord in with me and plug it in. Once it’s on, I check for the Wi-Fi, but it’s not on. I leave the iPad to charge, and then I’ll decide what to do. I might have to take the risk of bringing it back to my room and keep checking until it pops through. But then again, Liam may already be here, and all hell will break loose.
I sit across from Mom and eat my food, hardly tasting it and observing her. She eats the whole thing and the apple she requested. At this moment, she is happy and I am grateful for it.
After we ate, I went back to my room, read an old book, and kept checking for Wi-Fi, but still no signal.
There’s a knock at my door and I hurry to hide the iPad and lay my book on the bed, like I was sitting there reading. I flip the lock and find Alfie standing in the doorway.
“Hey, baby sister, long time no see,” he says and pulls me in for a big hug.
“Hey, Alfie, I missed you,” I mumble in his shoulder. He smiles and closes the door behind himself before he throws himself on the bed.
He puts his hands under his head and sighs as he looks up at the ceiling. I crawl up next to him and wait for him to say what’s on his mind.
“Can you just agree to it, Aelia? Please?” he says.
I huff a laugh. I shouldn’t be surprised, yet I am.
“Alfonso, I’m your sister. Why would you be okay with me marrying a complete stranger? In Italy,no less?”
He looks at me and back at the ceiling with a scrunched expression, and I know he’s not. “I’m not,” he says. “I don’t like it at all, baby sis, but…you know this is our world. You know how things have to be.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. “No, that’s what we’ve been told, Alfie. They canbehowever we want them to be. Others may do it this way, but I don’t have to.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to have to one day.” He looks at me with sad eyes. Arranged marriages are an old-school mafia thing. They still exist, and they are borderline ironic. Regardless of the story, the parents tell themselves, they are still essentially selling their child for something. In my case, it’s an alliance with another family in Italy. In Alfie, Romeo, and Giorgio’s case, it’s for other families to solidify with the Costas.
“You don’t, but if you do, I hope you at least love her.”
He reaches for my hand and holds it.
“That’s just not how this works, and I’ve accepted it, Aelia. It’s time you do, too.” He gets off the bed and, before he walks out of my room, presses a kiss to my forehead.
The hours are ticking down and I’ve continued to check for Wi-Fi and still nothing. I have a feeling it won’t be an option. Plus, I still haven’t figured out what to do short of jumping out of a window. There are no trees close to my window and bushes down below. The only way for me to go out the window is by getting onto the roof, which still leaves the problem of my mother, and gettingoffthe roof. I sigh and look out the window, watching the guards change their stations.
Giorgio already came in here and begged me to just agree to it so everyone can be happy again. I flipped him off and told him to get out.
There’s another knock at the door and I realize I don’t think I’ve had this much attention from my family in years, maybe ever.
I open the door, and Romeo is standing there dressed as I found him this morning in his button-up shirt tucked into his Brioni slacks and Hermes loafers.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
I sigh and throw the door open. He steps through and closes it behind him.
“I’ll give you this, at least youasked,unlike our other brothers.”
