Page 5 of In Ruins
“Go away, Giana,” I mumble, eyes still closed. I know it’s her since we go through this particular routine every morning, though I think she’s a bit early today.
She’s been the only friend I’ve had since I got pulled out of school, and I would have gone mad already if I didn’t have her to talk to. Being locked away like a prisoner takes its toll on me sometimes. I’ve had no choice but to remain content with being kept inside like Rapunzel as the days come and go. I was under no illusion that a Prince Charming was coming to save me anytime soon, no matter how many times I wished for it.
I’m torn between wanting my freedom and not giving a shit about anything, my life included. Nothing has been the same since the day I lost my brother, or rather, since the day he went missing a month ago, though it feels a lot longer. I’ve been in this fog of sadness that I can’t seem to get rid of. He left a big gaping hole in my heart; one I don’t think will ever be whole again.
Even though I’m usually confined to home, I did manage to go out once last week with a couple of guards, since Father insisted they go with me formy protection. But I know better. He wants to ensure I stay a virgin until it’s time for him to marry me off to whoever he can benefit from the most, to form new alliances.
I think I’ve always resented the world I was born into, but over the course of the week, since my brother’s been gone, it’s become even more unbearable. I’ve started to harbor actual hate toward my father. Until now, I only had resentment because of the way he treated me.
Not that he’d even care about my animosity toward him. He’s always been a mean and cold bastard toward me, and since that night, his use of me as his punching bag has become worse.
Don’t even think about that night, Aria!I tell myself. I’ve been sore all week, more than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and I can only move properly again now.
“Your father sent me with a message. He wants to see you this morning, for breakfast,” Giana tells me, and I finally open my eyes to look at her. My father has never actively sought me out to speak to me, but I’m guessing it has something to do with today being my eighteenth birthday.
When I realize that, I feel a sense of dread instantly form in the pit of my stomach, and my heart begins to race.
Please, please, please let today not be the end of my world as I know it,I silently beg the universe.
“Do you think he’ll notice if I don’t show up?” I question, and she chuckles.
“Of course he will. He sounded pretty serious when he spoke to me, so it must be about something important.”
“You’re right,” I say, sighing as I get up. She instantly starts to make my bed as I head toward the bathroom to shower and get ready to meet my father. I have a feeling I know exactly what he wants, and I’m not going to like it.
We argued a lot over the last week, and it always ended with me at the end of his fist. I wish my brother were here. The fact that he isn’t makes me act recklessly and not care about life anymore. Just the thought of Luca brings tears to my eyes as I stand in front of the sink, trying to compose myself.
Will the pain of not knowing what happened to him ever go away? I don’t know how to move past that.
Wiping my eyes, I force myself to stop thinking about him and quickly brush my teeth and shower. Once I’m done and have dried my skin, I wrap the towel around myself and walk back into my room, over to my bed, where Giana already has my clothes laid out for me. I drop the towel and pull on my bra and panties. As I pick up the dress, I spot the small jewelry box beneath it.
I quickly put on my dress before grabbing the box and opening it. I’m too curious to find out what it is. Tears instantly gather in my eyes as I look down at the necklace inside. It’s a beautiful gold chain with a pendant of the sun.
The significance of it is like a stab straight to the heart. Luca always called me his sunshine, but he was wrong. I wasn’t the light in his life. He was the one in mine. He made my dim world feel brighter and less suffocating. Now that he's gone, I’m back to feeling like I’m constantly drowning under the weight of my father’s oppression.
I spin around when I hear Giana walk out of my closet, holding my shoes and a hairbrush in her hands. I rush over to her and pull her into a hug as the tears finally spill over at the thoughtfulness of her gift. She’s now the only person in my corner.
“Hey! No crying. Happy birthday,” she tells me. “I thought this would be the perfect gift for you to keep Luca close to your heart. Not that I’m saying he’s dead or anything. Who knows what happened? Or I don’t know, maybe we’ll find him soon and?—”
“Stop! Thanks! I know what you’re trying to say. I love it, really!” I sob as she hugs me a little tighter before letting me go.
“I’m glad you do. Now, dry those eyes,” she says. That definitely works to stop the tears. I don’t cry in front of him, ever. No matter how many times he hurts me or ridicules me.
That’s the one thing I vowed never to do. I know he sees me as pathetic and useless, as nothing. So, I will not show him any kind of weakness.
I sit down on the stool when she motions for me to take a seat in front of the vanity, and she begins brushing my hair out. I can’t help but stare into the mirror in front of me. I kind of hate the girl looking back at me. I mean, she’s beautiful, but her eyes look dead, and there is no happiness radiating off her. I wonder if she’ll ever find peace or freedom in this lifetime.
The thought that I might never have those things, and that it’s all just wishful thinking, aches straight down to my soul.
I long for a time when I can just enjoy life without all the bullshit and expectations of being a Mafia princess. I don’t consider myself a princess, but that’s how everyone else sees me. I’ve heard some of the whispers and gossip. They all think I have it so good and that my life is perfect, but none of them know what goes on behind closed doors.
I let out a long sigh at the injustice of it all. Giana opens her mouth to say something, no doubt about to reassure me that everything will be fine, but she doesn’t get to because the door to my room bursts open.
I look back into the mirror and behind me, just in time to see my father as he steps into my room. He has his usual stoic expression firmly planted on his face as he looks at me. Giana’s hand on my hair stops moving, and she pulls away before shifting to step out of the room.
I turn around on the stool to face my father as he stands there. Guess he couldn’t wait until later to speak to me, and he wants to get it over with. Why else would he come to my room? He rarely does.
“Hello, Father,” I say, but he doesn’t respond. He just stares at me with his usual look of disdain, but still I try again. Trying to talk to this man is sometimes like pulling teeth. “Giana said you wanted to speak to me. I was getting ready to come downstairs for breakfast.”
