Chapter Four
1353 Words
Aria
I was already pacing by the time the door finally opened.
I had tried sitting, I even tried lying down, tried pretending I could focus on anything else. Nothing worked. Every few seconds, my eyes went back to the door like I could will it to open faster.
When it did, my heart dropped.
“Mama.”
She stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind her with more effort than necessary. Her shoulders were slumped, her face pale, eyes dull in a way that scared me more than tears ever could.
I rushed to her immediately. “What happened?” I asked, grabbing her arms. “Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then why do you look like this?” I demanded, already panicing. “What happened in there?”
She didn’t answer me right away. She just stared at me, like she was lost.
“Aria, get me a cup of water first.”
I didn’t argue. I ran.
I spilled some on the counter in my haste, barely noticing as I filled the cup and rushed back to her. She took it from me with trembling hands and drank deeply, as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time she was gone.
When she finished, she wiped her face with the edge of her cloth. I stood there, barely breathing.
“Mama,” I said, unable to wait any longer. “Please.”
She exhaled slowly, then nodded. “The Don, he’s willing to help.”
For a second, I just stared at her.
Then relief crashed into me so hard my knees almost gave out.
“Oh my Goodness,” I breathed, grabbing her hands. “Really? He’s going to help us?”
She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t squeeze back either.
“I knew it,” I went on quickly, a shaky laugh slipping out. “Maybe he’s not as scary as everyone says. Maybe...”
“Aria,” she interrupted softly.
Something in her tone made my words die in my throat.
“There’s a but,” she said.
The room seemed to tilt.
I slowly let go of her hands.
“A… but?” I whispered.
She nodded and I knew, even before she spoke again, that nothing about this help was going to be free.
I stared at her.
“He said he would help, but there is a condition.”
“What condition?” I asked.
She didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes dropped to the floor, then lifted back to me, now glossy and full in a way that made my chest tighten.
“Aria,” she said.
Something in my stomach turned.
“Mama, what condition?”
She swallowed. I saw it. The effort it took. “He said… he said I have something of his.”
I let out a short, confused laugh. “Of his? What does that even mean?”
She didn’t laugh with me.
My breath slowed. My heart started to pound.
“He said,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper now, “that what he wants… is you.”
The words didn’t register at first.
Me.
I waited for my mind to reject them, to twist them into something else, something that made sense. It didn’t.
“What?” I whispered.
She stepped toward me, reaching out, but I moved back instinctively. My skin suddenly felt too tight, too hot.
“No,” I said. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Why would he...”
“He gave me twenty-four hours,” she rushed on, tears spilling freely now. “To decide. If I don’t agree, the deal is off.”
I shook my head slowly, my ears ringing. “Decide what?” I asked, though I already knew.
Her voice broke. “To give you to him.”
The words landed like a slap.
I felt dizzy. The room blurred, my thoughts scattering everywhere, all at once.
“To give me?” I echoed. “Like I’m like I’m something you can hand over?”
She sobbed then, covering her mouth.
I backed away until my shoulders hit the wall.
Romano Moretti.
The man I’d spent my whole life avoiding. The man I’d only ever seen from a distance, surrounded by guns and silence and fear.
My breath became shallow. “He wants me for what?” I asked. “To work?"
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Not like that.”
That made it worse.
My chest felt tight, like something was pressing down on it. “I’m only twenty,” I said weakly. “I don’t belong to him. I don’t belong to anyone.”
She looked at me like she was already losing me.
“I know, Aria,,” she whispered. “I told him you were too young. Too innocent.”
“And?” I asked.
Her silence answered me.
“He said,” she continued softly, “that was exactly why.”
The floor seemed to drop beneath me.
I slid down the wall slowly, my legs giving out, my hands shaking in my lap.
This couldn’t be real.
This had to be a nightmare I hadn’t woken up from yet.
And suddenly, I understood something with terrifying clarity.
Romano Moretti hadn’t asked for me because he needed me.
He’d asked because he could.
“Don’t think about it, Aria. There is no way I’m handing you over to that man.”
I laughed softly. “Mama.”
“No,” she insisted. “We’ll find another way. We’ll borrow money. I’ll take a loan. I’ll speak to people. There has to be another way to get your father back.”
I closed my eyes.
Images rushed through my mind too quickly to grasp, my father’s face, the way his hands shook when he lost at cards, the way he promised every time that it was the last time. The way promises always meant nothing.
“There is no other way,” I said quietly.
Mother shook her head. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth,” I replied, opening my eyes again. “You know it is.”
She stepped closer, gripping my shoulders. “You’re my child,” she said fiercely. “I carried you. I raised you. I will not trade you for anyone’s life. Not even your father’s.”
I didn’t pull away, but something inside me went still.
“You didn’t sleep last night,” she said suddenly, her voice softening. “You’re exhausted. This is too much for you right now.”
“Mama.”
“Go and rest,” she insisted. “We’ll talk about this later. When your head is clear.”
She brushed her thumb over my cheek the way she used to when I was younger, when rest was enough to fix everything. Then she turned and walked into her room, closing the door behind her.
The sound of it shutting echoed through the house.
I stayed where I was.
The wall was cold against my back, the floor hard beneath me. I stared ahead without really seeing anything.
Loans from who? With what collateral? In how much time?
Every path led back to the same dead end.
We had twenty-four hours.
I wrapped my arms around myself.
My mother believed there was another way.
But I knew there wasn’t so I made my decision quietly.
I moved towards her room and stood by the door.
“Mom?” I whispered.
“I’m fine,” she murmured from inside. “Go and sleep.”
I opened the door just a little. She was already lying on her side, facing the wall. She looked smaller somehow.
I watched her for a moment longer before I closed the door.
I didn’t tell her. I couldn’t, because I knew she would kick against it, and if I waited until morning, I might lose the courage to do what needed to be done.
So I changed my clothes and stepped out.
I was going to accept the deal.
- Writer
