“We used to talk about escaping,” I said quietly. “Remember?”
Chiara’s face softened, and she didn’t reply, busying herself with more kitchen chores, as if hoping I’d walk away if she stayed silent long enough.
“We used to stay awake all night planning fake identities and apartments we couldn’t afford on our own,” I continued bitterly. “You wanted a bookstore by the ocean. I wanted literally anything that didn’t involve armed men.”
A sad smile touched her lips. “You wanted a motorcycle.”
“I still want a motorcycle,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“You’d kill yourself,” she muttered.
“At least it would be my choice.” That landed harder than I intended. Chiara looked down briefly.
“Aurora,” she said carefully, “you’re eighteen. Beautiful. Smart. Men in our world notice girls like you.”
“Wonderful. I’m thrilled my existence is apparently a public safety concern.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m serious.” Chiara took a long look at me. “You don’t know what these men are capable of.”
“So it’s easier to marry me off to the one who’ll hurt me least?” Anger bubbled hotter now. Sharper.
“Stop, Aurora.” Chiara rubbed her temples, clearly exhausted by our conversation.
“You know what’s funny?” I asked. “Papa used to say arranged marriages were about protection too. Funny how men keep using prettier words for ownership.”
“Sergio isn’t Papa,” she said again.
“No,” I agreed coldly. “He’s just another man deciding what happens to me.”
“He didn’t decide this,” Chiara fought back. “I did, along with my husband.”
I blinked slowly. “Oh, somehow that makes it more romantic. My mistake.”
From the dining room, I heard one of the twins yelling dramatically. “Sienna put parmesan in my grilled cheese!”
“It adds depth!” Sienna yelled back defensively.
“It tastes like feet!”
“That’s because you have an uncultured palate,” Sienna hit back.
Chiara rubbed her forehead again. “I swear to God, if one more person screams tonight…”
“AUNTIE AURORA!” Bruno barreled into the kitchen holding a plastic dinosaur and wearing tomato sauce across his face like war paint. He looked up at me seriously. “Luca says marriage means kissing the same person forever.”
My soul nearly left my body. “Unfortunately, he’s right.”
Bruno looked horrified. “ I don’t even want one kiss! That sounds disgusting.”
“Correct,” I hissed in return, glaring at my older sister.
“Can you cancel it?” Bruno suggested. “Ask Mommy to do it.”
Honestly? I considered it. Chiara shot me a warning look before turning back toward the counter.
“What would make you feel better?” she asked finally.
I frowned. “What?”