Page 27 of Arianna

My baby daughter.

Victims and innocents.

In a moment of weakness, I tell her exactly what is on my mind as I look into her eyes. “You can stop fighting now, Arianna. The war is over.”

The icy facade slips the moment the words leave my mouth, but then she remembers who she is and what I am to her, and the ice barricades are lifted again.

“You are wrong, Sebastian Kenton.” Cold and detached, with no light in her eyes. You are just as fucked-up as me, darling. “The war has just begun.” A threat.

Chuckling, I signal the stewardess for another glass. “So be it.”

Arianna goes back to ignoring me while I focus on the chessboard in front of me. Chess has never been a game of entertainment for me but a way for me to exercise my mind. I don’t see the black and white tiles, the paws, or the queens. I see the game and the countless opportunities to destroy an opponent.

I can’t focus on anything but her words. How she managed to call me by my legal name, and I did nothing to put her in her place like before.

My cell rings, and I pull it out of my pocket to see it’s Parisi calling. “Yes?”

“Any deal you made with my father is void.” The voice of a teenage girl sounds on the other line. I look away from the board and focus on Arianna. “If— if you hurt her, I’ll—

“You’ll what?” I mock the girl on the line, but deep down, I am half impressed by her bravery. “Where is your father? And why is it you are calling me, child?”

“Fuck you. He will no longer be available to you.” The girl barks. “You won’t be making any more deals with him from now on either. No one will.” She falls silent, and I am tempted to hang up, but I am still processing what she just said. I could care less about the bastard, but if someone will make him pay for his greed and sin, it will be me.

However, how poetic it would be if Gabriele’s blood were drained of his body by his own daughter’s hand.

The thought does not calm the rage I feel inside but does lessen it.

I make a move to hang up on the girl, but a softly whispered plea keeps me on the line.

“Please, don’t—” The girl takes a deep breath before continuing. “Please don’t hurt her.” The Parisi spawn takes a deep and shaky breath, but her tone becomes strong and even. “She’s been hurt enough.” With that, the line goes dead. Unlike her older sister, this one seems all over the place with her emotions. I could detect so much anger in her voice and desperation as well.

Please don’t hurt her.

I am not this family’s ally.

I am the enemy her father created.

She’s been hurt enough.

Even if I didn’t wish to cause the girl harm.

It is inevitable.

Hurting others is what I do.

Especially to the princess of the man that cruelly tore my world into pieces so many years ago.

ARIANNA

Royal Highness

“You motherfucking fuck.” - B.B

Malibu, California

There is something oddly peaceful about new beginnings. It should feel terrifying being thrown into the unknown, but somehow, I only feel peace, but that could also be because peace always comes before the war.

Not the other way around like most would have you believe.

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