A Dark Dance

#Viola's POV "Papa, you can't be serious?" I say, my tone tight as I stare our father down. Martin Moreau, father of Beatrice, Claudio, and Viola just signed. His handsome Mediterranean features were more run down these days, his thick black hair was thinning, wrinkles creased his face and his once strong build seemed leaner, the weight of financial struggles wearing him thin. Since his wife, Juliet had died five years ago, his business, hits house, had all slowly fallen into a state of ruin. And I hadn't noticed, because I was only fourteen when my mother died and my father had sent me to Italy to live with my aunt. My sister and brother, twins, were older than me by ten years and had agreed with my father to keep things from me. Like the fact that my family was in debt, that the business had been sold, and now, that Bea was going to marry to cover the debts and save the house. I've been home for three months now and my entire world had been flipped upside down. I look over at Bea, tall and graceful, her dark brown eyes more sad these days. "You agreed to this...stronzate?" Bea narrows her eyes at my cursing, but doesn't berate me. "Viola, we've kept this from you for a while, so I understand that you're feeling a lot right now. But truly, I have had the past few weeks to think about it. If it will save our family then..." I scoff and glare at our father. "Save our family? You mean our image, our reputation. You're marrying your daughter to a man who is even feared in Italy. Zio Antonio is scared of him, and Zio isn't scared of anyone!" I scoff in disgust. "Why not sell the house, find something affordable. You know, be normal." Our father leans back in his chair, a stern look in his eyes. "Our family is one of the oldest in this city, and before that, my ancestors were aristocrats, a prince even." He says, his prestige showing. As if I cared. "Your sister is doing this for us all, Viola. Do you really want to have to work your fingers to the blood to take care of that child?" My eyes narrow into slits. I was three months pregnant, nineteen and the father... wasn't in the picture. I had decided to keep the baby, much to my father's annoyance. But I'd already taken a job as a associate assistant in a lawyers office downtown. It didn't pay a lot, but I could easily support myself, the benefits included maternity leave and I could work my way up. "Do not use my situation to justify this!" I growl. My brother, my father's youthful image, steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder. "Vi, please, papa just meant that he wants to ensure that our futures aren't bleak." I take a steady breath and turn my eyes to him. "Claudio, you are his heir, why didn't you do anything to stop this ruin?" He seems taken aback by my words, his gaze turning towards our father. I can see the guilt in his eyes. "Vi-" I cut him off. "This is ridiculous. Mama would be appalled by this, you all know that, right?" Throwing my hands up, I scoff loudly and walk out of my father's study. A small tug of guilt hits me at being so harsh, but I couldn't help it. I was too much like my mother, stubborn, strong-willed. And being in the care of my Zio and his family these past five years had only fed my strength. The Caruso family were all independent and resourceful. Zio had raised me to take life by the horns and move forward. And here my family was, being weak and driven only by what others thought of them. It angered me. Bea's intended was dangerous. But wealthy. So she's agreed to sell herself to pay off their debts and get their father back into business. But I knew that he'd just fail again, given the chance. He didn't really have the drive anymore, I could see that. And Claudio, god love him, was more interested in chasing women and playing golf with his buddies. And Bea, she was obedient and caring for her family. I couldn't fault her for that, but her lack of backbone was annoying. How would she even survive someone like Dante Socci? I slam the door to my childhood room and lean against the door. In three months, my life had been turned upside down and not even my nostalgia could soothe me most days. Sighing, I move towards my full size bed and flop down onto it. I can't stay here, I decide. At least, not after the baby came. I needed my own space, even if it was a studio apartment in a crap neighborhood. I needed to stand on my own two feet. Because, truth be told, I was terrified my own family would drag me and my baby down with them. I might have slept with a complete stranger and gotten pregnant on accident, but I wasn't a complete i***t. I was just reckless. Not that I regret it. The honest truth was, I was excited to have the baby growing inside me. Do I wish that I hadn't been so drunk that I'd given my virginity to an older man who'd been dressed like the devil at a masquerade event at a nightclub? Maybe. But only because maybe I would have been sober enough to have asked for his name. Or to see his face. But he'd kept his mask on, even as he'd removed mine. It was strange to think that I might pass by a stranger and he could be him, my dark devil. My baby's father. I was half afraid he'd be one of the lawyers or executives at the office I worked at, but no one got his build or the way he carried himself. With a strangled moan, I pull my pillows to my face and muffle the sounds of pleasure as my fingers move under the waistband of my leggings. Pregnancy and the memory of his touch had made me extremely born these past few weeks. And who was I to deny myself a little pleasure.