ARIA
"Champagne," Dante says, taking two flutes from a passing waiter. He hands me one. "Drink."
I do, grateful for something to occupy my shaking hands.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I shouldn't have engaged with them. I should have just walked away..."
"Don't apologize." His voice was firm. "You stood up for yourself. That's exactly what you should have done."
"But the scene..."
"It was necessary. And long overdue, from the sound of it." He turns me to face him, his hands on my shoulders. "Your parents are toxic, Aria. They've made you believe you're less than Vivienne your entire life. But you're not. You're extraordinary. And it's past time someone told them that."
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back. "Thank you. For defending me."
"Always." He brushes his thumb across my c
