Page 131 of Arianna

“Hmm.” He stares at me as if he just discovered something new about me and doesn’t know how it makes him feel yet. I know the feeling. It happens to me almost every day with him. It’s as scary as it is terrifying.

“So, will you? Tell me about them.” I try again, not wanting to be pushy but curious as to why this man has no one except his daughter.

Sebastian sighs and looks back up at the ceiling where the stars are. “My father, Ronan Kenton, served in the army for many years before he settled down and pursued politics. He was a good man. The best man. One that followed the rules and always played by the book. He did what was right, not only for his family, but his city and country. He married my mother, who, at the time, was also pursuing a career she loved dearly, but she gave it all up for love. For him. For me. She couldn’t be the politician’s wife, a mother and still be working as an astronomer on TV. Many factors didn’t allow it.” I listen intently as he tells me the story of his parents with a sadness that makes my heart tight.

He goes on to tell me more about them and how they were phenomenal parents. God, they sound wonderful. Hearing all about how good and kind they were made me feel all warm inside, the total opposite of my parents.

“Where are they?” I whisper, making him look away from the ceiling and down at me.

Many emotions swirl in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

First, sadness, then loss, anger, and back to sadness. “They were brutally murdered. It was front-page news that year.” Sebastian laughs without humor. Sad. So sad. “A lowlife gangster threw a fit because my father refused to participate in his filthy plans for Chicago and didn’t cooperate. So, he decided to order a hit that ultimately resulted in the murder of both my parents. The most kindhearted people the world ever had the pleasure to know were gunned down like criminals for everyone to witness.” Sebastian’s voice is no longer laced with sadness but with hatred. His face, was no longer peaceful or sad, but now ugly with rage.

I feel all of that now, too.

For him.

For his parents.

But mostly because I was once part of those lowlife gangsters who like to play God.

Without hesitation, I reach out and take his much larger hand in mine. It’s warm. A complete contrast to mine. I am always cold, but he isn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, not finding the right words to make the sadness disappear. “How old were you when you lost them?” I can sympathize with him, but our situation is not the same. He lost his parents. I cannot lose something I never had.

Parents.

Good parents.

My heart warms when instead of shaking off my touch, Sebastian grips my hand tighter, and looks at me. “I turned fourteen that year.”

Oh, no.

He was so young.

A child.

A child who lost his entire world at once and was reminded of it every day because it was so public.

I am sad for him, yes, but mostly I am furious.

“Where did you end up? Who took you in after they were gone?” I ask, wanting to know as much about him as he will allow me.

“My grandparents from my mother’s side took me in until I went to college.” At least he had someone. Yes, he had money, but sometimes money is not enough. Children need stability, attention, and, most of all, love.

I hope he got that from his grandparents.

Changing the topic, wanting to see him smile again, I ask him about his mother, and he tells me all about how lovely she was and how she never once regretted leaving everything she knew to stand by her husband’s side and care for Sebastian full time. He also tells me that she was part French, and the hotel back in Paris belonged to her side of the family until it was passed down to him when he came of age.

He comes from old money, not dirty money like I do.

We’re so different.

He was born good, but the world and the cruel actions of a heartless criminal hardened his heart, while I was born into cruelty, and now the world is giving me a second chance at life.

“Arianna.” Sebastian grips my chin, making me look straight at him.

“Yes?” I whisper, enthralled by his gaze.

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