Page 25 of Arianna

Then my eyes moved up her neck to find the perfect honey blonde hair I couldn’t stop looking at when I first saw her picture, chopped as if she did it herself, and something tells me she did. One-half of her hair is long and falls down her chest, almost touching her waist when she’s sitting, and the other sits well above her breast.

She looks like a mess.

A beautiful mess, nonetheless.

Her chopped hair.

Her dead eyes.

The frown on her forehead.

The grim lines around her mouth.

Anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach when I take in all the signs.

Abuse?

Neglect?

Both?

“Where is home?” she asks, not bothering to look at me.

And I don’t bother answering.

She will soon find out.

My eyes leave her, suddenly unable to breathe with the rage I feel, not only towards her bitch of a father but towards her as well for stirring feelings I have no business feeling towards a Parisi.

Pity is one of them.

Because when I looked into her eyes, I saw the same stare my father had when he got lost in the gruesome memories war left him with.

Then all the confusing feelings she stirred in me with just her presence fade and get lost in a sea of anger and resentment inside me.

The one I battle every day.

I think of him instead.

My father, my mother, and I ground myself.

Hardening my heart once again, ridding it of any sympathy for the girl.

When I come back out of my thoughts, I notice the girl is no longer looking out the window but down at the chessboard in front of her. On our way to get her, Banning and I played a game, but it was interrupted before I could checkmate him.

I watch delicate fingers reach forward and move a glass piece. “Look here. Someone left the king unprotected.” She says, trying to get my attention. She grins up at me, but there is no humor.

Nothing.

She is cold.

So cold, but those eyes don’t fool me. Those emeralds have a fire in them that will not be easy to put out.

Chuckling, I lean forward in my seat until I am a breath away from her face. Arianna loses her cocky smile when I move my pawn strategically, as I have done countless times before since I was a young boy.

“Checkmate, darling.” I have always found great satisfaction in winning at everything. At chess. At life. At war. This is no different. I will not lose. Ever. When it comes to this girl, it will not be any different.

Her nostrils flare, and her eyes flash with something resembling curiosity. I have never met someone quite like her, and I know with certainty that she has never crossed a man like me before.

---