Forbidden Never Felt This Good

~ 24

0024

~Aria~

I hadn't expected the shelter.

That was the thing sitting quietly in the back of my mind as we pulled up to the office building, the thoughtfulness and intentional act of it.

It wasn't flowers or a carefully worded apology or any of the obvious things a man reaches for when he knows he's the reason someone had a bad night. It was an animal shelter.

The kind of place I had never told him about or anyone for that matter , never mentioned in passing, never brought up in any of the conversations we had shared over the past days.

And yet he had known.

I didn't let myself think too hard about what that meant. Not today. Today was already carrying enough weight without me adding more to the pile.

His phone had rung while I was mid-sentence. I had seen it, the way his entire body changed when he looked at that screen.

Subtle, the way everything with Luca is subtle, but I had been watching him long enough now to notice the difference between his resting stillness and the kind that meant something had just landed wrong.

He cut the call. Slid the phone back into his pocket. Looked up at me with that steady expression of his like nothing had happened.

Okay. Not my business, people have phone calls. People cut phone calls. I let it go. Then we proceeded to the office.

Just because of what he did today did not mean I was going to let my guard down. Even if I was excited, I wasn’t ready to go back to the cycle again.

By the time we stepped out of the car, I had tucked the whole morning, the shelter, the animals, the warmth of it, somewhere safe inside me, and I had put my game face back on. It was exhausting but it was needed.

Today was going to be official.

The board was already assembled when we reached the floor. I could feel it before the doors even opened, that particular stillness of a room full of people who have been waiting and who want you to know they've been waiting.

My father was there, it did not surprise me. I know he was going to come but I was worried about his health. He was seated at the head of the table looking smaller.

My father spoke briefly. He didn't waste words, he never did.

“This is my daughter, Aria Santoro. I have appointed her to take over this business. I would expect each and every single of you in this room to give her the respect that you have given me. I do not expect anything less. She has the power and authority.”

He outlined the transition with the kind of calm authority that reminded me of why people in this world both respected and feared Vittorio Santoro, and then he said it plainly, in front of every person in that room.

I, Aria Santoro was now CEO of his legitimate business empire.

The applause was polished and measured, the way boardroom applause always is. I smiled.

I stood in front of everyone and gave that practiced polished smile. I had not yet digested it all but I would eventually. There was a weight of responsibility looming on me.

After everyone left the room, I was looking for Luca whose eyes had never left me throughout the meeting.

"I'm proud of you angel." I heard Luca say behind me.

Low. Quiet. Close enough that it wasn't meant for anyone else.

I turned slightly. Luca was just behind my right shoulder, which was exactly where he always was when it’s time to move, and he was looking at me with that expression that I never figure out.

I didn't have a response for it. I genuinely didn't. But I held my smile and turned back around, and told myself the flutter in my chest was just the adrenaline of the moment.

Be wise Aria.

Then his hand brushed my elbow. Brief. Barely anything. Just the lightest contact, the kind that could have been accidental except that nothing Luca does is accidental, and it moved through me like a current before he stepped back into his professional distance.

I needed to get to my office.

My father followed me up, which I hadn't expected, because he wasn’t even feeling well. But I had learned to stop being surprised by Vittorio Santoro's movements.

He had requested for Luca to excuse us. He settled into the chair across from my desk with the slow carefulness of a man whose body was no longer doing everything he asked of it, and I sat down and pulled up my itinerary for the day on the screen.

And then I saw Jean-Paul Mercier. Eleven o'clock.

I stared at the name for a moment. And the image came back immediately, the way Jean had looked at me yesterday, that flicker of satisfaction across his face that I hadn't been able to place at the time. Something was off about that man.

Makes me remember that I wanted to tell my father about it! Oh shoot.

"Jean-Paul is on my schedule today," I said, looking up at my father.

He didn't react. Just looked at me in that measuring way of his, the way he looks at people when he's deciding how much to say. "And?"

"And something felt wrong yesterday. The way he was watching the room. The way he was satisfied after the incident yesterday. That’s what I wanted to mention yesterday.” I kept my voice even. "It might be nothing."

My father was quiet for a moment. Then, "Luca."

I glanced at the door. He was already there, my father had apparently decided that whatever privacy he'd requested earlier was no longer necessary. Luca stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Jean-Paul" my father said simply.

Luca's expression didn't change but something behind his eyes sharpened. He sat forward slightly.

"I want his movements tracked," my father said. "Everything. Who he meets, where he goes, what his name looks like in circles it shouldn't appear in." He paused. "Check the underworld. Quietly."

Luca nodded once. "Understood."

My father let the silence sit for a moment. Then he turned his head toward Luca with the particular slowness of a man who wants his next words to land exactly where he intends them to.

“And if he is involved in anything," he said, his voice dropping into something quieter and far more dangerous than volume could ever achieve, "anything at all that puts my daughter at risk…”

He didn't rush it. Didn't need to.

"He won't live a single day longer than it takes me to hear about it."

The room was very still.

And Vittorio Santoro had never once in his life made a promise he didn't keep.

Especially the one about his daughter.