Page 149 of Vows and Vendettas

I grab Wiz’s arm despite all the years I refused to touch him. “I don’t need you to take me inside.”

He glances at the place I hold his arm and I retract my hand. With pinched lips, he nods and walks away, his posture stiff with disapproval.

Anxiety burns away the last effects of the alcohol I consumed earlier and I step in front of the closed doors separating me from my future. One deep breath follows another until I slow the thudding of my heart. Silent prayers to keep my composure and perform swirl in my mind until I can’t hear anything else. Slowly, I take the handle and turn it. A few minutes after entering this room I will learn the name of the man I’ll have to kill.

CHAPTER TWO

My shoes sink into thick carpeting as I follow the voices in my father’s sitting room. The bright fabrics seem dull as I make my way to the two men. Trepidation dogs my steps.

My father is the first to notice my presence. The man seated in front of him has wavy black hair that glistens as bright as a mirror reflecting off a moonlit lake. From behind, his posture is confident. Whatever tricks my father has up his sleeves don’t seem to affect the stranger.

Lavaughn points me to a chair, a silent command to sit like a good minion. “Niyah, I’d like you to meet Aris Glezos. He has a few questions for you that will help decide who will join our family.” My father glares at me, daring me to defy him.

He has nothing to fear from me. He has successfully bullied me into submission. I bow my head, avoiding the stranger’s gaze, afraid that he might see more than what I’m allowed to expose to him.

A tense silence fills the room. Although I can’t see the man’s face, his curious gaze is a heavy weight on my head.

“Mr. Hairston, I’d like to speak to your daughter in private.” The man’s calm voice sends shivers down my spine.

I don’t understand my reaction, though it must be fear. He sounds like broken glass crackling under intense pressure, sharp yet alluring; layer in the Greek accent and I imagine many women would willingly sacrifice themselves to hear his voice.

“That’s out of the question. Anything you have to say to my daughter, you can say it in front of me.”

I flinch at my father’s hard tone. If the stranger is glass, my father is concrete, unyielding and harsh. I’d rather the clear, sharp tones in Mr. Glezos’ voice, but choice is one luxury I haven’t had in a long time.

“Ms. Hairston, from the photos I’ve seen displayed, you have two other siblings,” Aris says in a way that relegates my father to the background, dismissing him without a word or inflection. His skillful yet understated approach wrests power from my father, but I doubt Lavaughn notices.

My father isn’t the subtle type.

It takes me a few seconds to understand that although Ari hasn’t asked a question, he expects me to respond.

“Yes,” I whisper while continuing to avoid looking at Ari. Despite my focus on my lap, I can feel his interest in me growing. I clamp my hands together to prevent myself from hugging my shoulders in a defensive gesture. I’m not under attack, so this need confuses me. At the same time, I can’t show weakness to an outsider, not in my father’s presence.

“Your father believes you to be the best candidate for a union with the Arroyos, but if I feel you to be unworthy of the role, I won’t hesitate to find someone else.”

Instantly my heart’s pace increases with the opportunity he’s presenting me. I swiftly glance at my father now that this new option is being presented, but his narrow glare stops me short. I’ve forgotten to hide the hope Aris’ words engendered.

“I had heard rumors you were evaluating more than just the branch families, going so far as interviewing some of Arroyo’s cousins to appease the unrest between our organizations.” The creak of my father’s chair followed by his heavy footfalls tells me he is rounding his chair.

Another swift peek shows me his back while he refills his glass. Tension creeps up my spine. His calm is a reminder. He’s setting a trap for a forthcoming attack, but it won’t be on Aris.

“Unfortunately, the Hairstons aren’t as prolific in marriageable women as the Arroyos are.” Without turning to look at me, he says, “For your purposes, Aniyah is the only option.” Hidden beneath my father’s words is a warning that if I don’t sell myself that my sisters will suffer.

“Mr. Glezos,” I blurt before I know what I want to say. Furiously I try to come up with something, anything, that could sway him in my favor. “I can address any concern you have about my fitness.”

A long pause fills the room while we wait for his response.

“If that were true, your focus would be on me and not your lap or looking to your father for permission to speak. Mr. Hairston, if this is my only option, I have to wonder if you’re serious about wanting to stop the war between your families.” Aris dismisses me in much the same manner as he did to my father, but this seems personal. Almost like he’s disappointed in me.

It hurts but I don’t know why. He’s a stranger. One with a dangerous allure I can’t explain. Regardless, his judgment of my shortcomings slices through my fear and timidity, giving me the push I need now that my sisters’ futures are more at risk from my actions.

I raise my face to look at him head-on. His nose, anyway. It counts. Like the man, his nose matches his personality. Patronizing, stern, and not attractive in the least. It would be perfect if not for the crook on his bridge. Stop waxing poetic about this man’s nose, Niyah! Right, I wipe my face of emotion, a practice I’ve almost mastered after years of dealing with my father. Hopefully, my ploy will work on Aris.

“You don’t know me, my father does. You also don’t know how sick and tired it makes us all to lose another brother, cousin, uncle, and son. You don’t get to question how serious we are in our efforts to make peace.” The half-truth almost sours on my tongue, but I persist. This is my truth even if it doesn’t apply to my father.

“I may not be your cup of tea Mr. Glezos. I may be an acquired taste for most people, but that does not make me unfit to heal the wounds our families have perpetrated against each other. There’s no reason to dismiss me and no need to parade my sisters in front of you for your amusement. Now if you’re done insulting us, can we please move on to what matters most? Avoiding a war.” Although my voice is steady, my body quakes under the mixture of adrenaline flowing inside me.

Aris’ nostrils flare. I raise my eyes to meet his for the first time, expecting to see rage. There is nothing. That’s not quite right. His gaze drills into me, and I can’t look away. He has mismatched eyes, one is electric blue while the other is an icy green, but the odd color combination isn’t what holds me transfixed. It’s the intensity. He makes me feel like I stand center stage, existing solely for his attention.

---