Chapter 83 Stranger Danger
ARYA’S POV
The bass thrummed through my body as Jasmine pulled me deeper into the club, her hand warm in mine.
After the note from Marco, I was jumpy, ready to tell her everything and begged to go home. But one look at her excited face, and the words died in my throat.
Maybe I was being paranoid and it was just someone's idea of a sick joke.
"Two cosmos!" Jasmine shouted to the bartender, then turned to me with a brilliant smile. "You need this. Trust me."
I did need it. I needed anything to stop thinking about Giovanni's empty side of the bed and the cryptic note burning a hole in my purse.
We found a booth in the corner, away from the worst of the noise. Jasmine kicked off her heels with a satisfied sigh, tucking her legs underneath her.
"God, I needed this too," she admitted, taking a long sip of her drink. "Don't get me wrong, I love those kids. But sometimes you just need adult conversation and overpriced cocktails."
I laughed, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. "Thank you for inviting me. Really."
"Of course! I figured you could use a girls' night." She studied me over the rim of her glass. "Plus, Enzo told me you've been having a rough time."
"That's one way to put it." I traced the condensation on my glass, not meeting her eyes.
"He also told me what you've been through. With your family, I mean." Her voice softened. "I'm sorry, Arya. That must have been terrifying."
I shrugged, trying to appear casual even as my throat tightened. "It's over now."
"Is it though?" Jasmine leaned forward, genuine concern in her eyes. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look like someone still processing a lot."
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that she was looking at me with such open kindness, but I found myself talking.
"I just feel... lost," I admitted. "Like I don't know who I am outside of being my father's daughter or now, Giovanni's... whatever I am."
"His fake wife who he's clearly crazy about?" Jasmine's lips quirked.
Heat flooded my face. "It's not like that."
"Sure it's not." She grinned, then her expression turned more serious. "But I get it. Identity is hard when you've been defined by other people your whole life."
"Is that how you felt? Before Enzo?"
"God, yes." She laughed, but there was an edge to it. "My parents had my whole life planned out. Medical school, marriage to a nice American boy from a good family, two point five kids in the suburbs. And I wanted all of that too, until I realized I was following their dream, not mine."
I leaned forward, intrigued by her stor. "How did you figure out what your dream was?"
"Therapy. Lots of therapy." She winked. "And taking risks. Enzo helped with that, actually. He taught me that it's okay to want something different than what everyone expects."
The way her face softened when she talked about Enzo made my chest ache with longing. I wanted someone who looked at me the way I knew Enzo looked at Jasmine.
"You really love him," I said softly.
"I do." Her smile was radiant. "Even when he's being a possessive, overprotective pain in my ass."
I laughed. "That sounds like a De Santis trait."
"You have no idea." She rolled her eyes. "Last month, I went to a teachers conference, and he tried to send two bodyguards with me.”
She scoffed and shook her head but there was a smile on her lips. “Can you imagine that? Taking bodyguards to a conference full of teachers in broad daylight."
"What did you do?"
"Told him absolutely not, we had a huge fight, and then he showed up at the conference anyway, pretending he was just 'in the neighborhood.'" She laughed, her shoulders shaking with it.
A wistful smile crossed my lips. "I wish I had something like that," I murmured, more to myself than to her.
Jasmine reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "You will. And hey, maybe you already do. Giovanni's not exactly subtle about how he feels."
Before I could respond, she shifted gears. "But seriously, what about you? What are your dreams?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. The truth was, I didn't know. I had spent so long just trying to be good enough, that I never thought about what I actually wanted.
"I don't know," I finally admitted. "I've always been so covered, so sheltered in my family's house. Coming out here and being with Giovanni... it has made me realize how much of the world I've missed.”
She shrugged. "So experience it now," she said simply. "You're young, smart, and free to figure out what sets your soul on fire."
"Is it really that simple?"
"It's terrifying and completely worth it." She clinked her glass against mine. "To figuring out who the hell we are."
I was about to respond when Enzo appeared beside our booth, he looked ready to punch someone.
"We need to go now."
Jasmine's eyes widened. "Enzo? What are you doing here? How did you even get here?"
I was as shocked as she was but Enzo wasn’t even looking at me, he was full on glaring at her.
“I said, let’s go,” he spared me a glance. “You too, Arya. Thank goodness I had a tracker on your phone, Jasmine! Who knew-
He paused. I froze. And Jasmine’s lips parted, realization dawning on her face.
"You tracked my phone? You actually tracked my phone."
Enzo dragged a hand down his face. "Jasmine, not now-“
"Not now?" She stood up, anger flashing in her eyes. "You put a tracker on my phone without telling me?"
"It's for your safety," Enzo said, his jaw tight. "And what the hell were you thinking, bringing Arya to a club? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?”"
"Dangerous? It's a club, Enzo, not a war zone!"
He literally growled, stepping closer. "With everything that's happening? You brought her to a public place where anyone could do anything."
"I'm not a child, and neither is Arya!"
I sat frozen, watching them argue, and feeling smaller by the second. This was my fault.
I should have stayed home or told Jasmine about the note. I should have…
Someone bumped into our booth, and I felt something slip into my lap. Another note.
Oh no… I didn’t want to open it. I wanted to chuck it away and try to reason with Jasmine and Enzo but curiosity spurred me.
My heart was racing as I unfolded it with shaking hands.
‘Meet me in the back hall. We need to talk. - M’
Marco was here right now.
I looked up at Enzo and Jasmine, they were still arguing and neither of them noticed when I slid out of the booth, the note clutched in my fist.
I knew I should do anything other than what I was about to do.
But what if it really was Marco? What if he had information from my father?
My feet carried me toward the back of the club before my brain could win over the argument. The hallway was dimmer, the bass from the music a muted thrum through the walls.
I saw a figure at the end of the hall, their back to me and I recognized that dark head of hair anywhere.
My heart jumped into my throat. "Marco?"
The figure started walking away, deeper into the hallway.
"Wait!" I hurried after him, my heels clicking against the floor. "Marco, it’s me, Arya!”
He turned around but it wasn't Marco.
The stranger looked confused, almost alarmed, as I skidded to a stop in front of him. "Sorry, lady, I think you have the wrong guy."
Disappointment crashed over me so hard I could barely breathe. "I… sorry. I'm sorry."
He shrugged and walked past me, leaving me alone in the hallway with my racing heart and the stupid note still in my hand.
I looked down at it, reading the message again. Was someone playing a prank on me?
A tired sigh left my throat and I was about to give up and return back to the bar when I heard an unfamiliar voice rumble behind me
"You're looking really good, Mrs. Dr. Santis."