Merciless Union by Faith Summers

33

Aria

I’ve been at the Romanovs now for a little over a day, and night is approaching again.

Olivia placed me back in their guest room, and thankfully she could see I wasn’t in the mood to talk. She did try several times, however, to make conversation and check on me.

The first thing I did when I got in the room was sit by the window so I could think.

It might seem like the lamest thing ever, but sitting by the window is how I’ve managed to get by for the last two years.

I’ve barely slept, and I feel weird from the whole Damien thing. I also wonder if I feel weird too because I’m pregnant.

I still can’t believe I am, and just over twenty-four hours ago, I threatened the father of my child with divorce if he gave my family’s company to that monster who killed my mother.

What a fucking mess.

I’ve gone over the scene of my mother’s shooting so many times that I’m immune to the replay of the horror.

No longer am I panting, with my nerves a wreck from the anticipation of remembering.

No longer is my heart beating so fast it fractures my soul.

At first, I went over the newest scene from my mind because I considered the possibility that Lucca could be right.

I wondered if my dislike for Damien could really make me imagine such things.

It wasn’t until I played through the scene for the hundredth time that I realized I was only contemplating something so ridiculous because of Lucca.

At that point, I knew without a doubt that the vision in my mind was unmistakable memory, and the more I went over it, the more vivid it became. Like I was watching it play before me on a widescreen TV.

I thought about the damn memory so much that I remembered what exactly happened to me. The potent memory burst through my mind like water from that busted pipe and kept flowing with answers I sought.

I remembered that after I knocked the vase off the table, Dad saw me and came after me. I was so freaked out I ran around in circles like I didn’t know where I was. I could have been at that summer home for the first time, not the years spent there previously with my family.

Dad rushed into the house, leaving the fire unattended just like he said.

He came up the stairs. By then, I’d heard him, and a combination of fear and shock robbed me of my senses. I’d gone to the balcony on the other side where my parents had a patio set. As if I could fly away from Dad's clutches. That was just by where he’d been too, so it was foolish of me to go there.

It was exactly where Dad found me before I could think to run back to my car and try to get away.

There was a loud explosion which I now know was from the fire and the fuel container. That caused the wooded balcony to snap.

I was backing away from Dad when it happened and too close to the edge.

When the balcony caved, I fell through, falling several feet down. I remember feeling broken, but there was fire everywhere.

I tried to crawl away from danger, but all I did was place myself in more harm. As I looked up, a beam that was on fire broke free and came crashing onto my head.

That was it. The end of the memory trail, now I have to work my way backward to put the rest of the pieces together.

A gentle knock sounds on the door, and Olivia comes in with a tray of cookies and hot chocolate.

I feel bad that I’ve been so reserved when we bonded so well the other day.

She smiles at me even though I can see she knows something’s going on with me. She looked the same way when she brought me enough food for dinner to feed a small family.

There was more food than I could handle, but I ate it all to be polite.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t make these and not share them with you. The kids already had a hundred, so I thought I’d come see you and leave them with Maksim to deal with the sugar high.”

I chuckle at that. “That’s funny.”

“Funnier to watch if you’re me.” She giggles and comes closer with the tray. She pulls up a chair and sits near me. “Aiden called too. They’ll be back in about an hour or so.”

“Really? I didn’t expect them back until tomorrow.” That was the estimate.

“I know, but whatever it is they went looking for and found must have been pretty darn important to send them back so quickly.” She nods. Since I know what the thing is, I’m inclined to agree. Now I’m eager to know what the secret is. “I was going to try and bribe you into telling me what’s going on with you with cookies when he called. That was the more obvious reason for me coming here.”

I bite back a smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been like this.”

“Is there anything I can help with?”

If I start talking about what I think she might be able to help with, she’s going to know I’m pregnant. That’s the only thing I can think of on top of my head.

“I don’t think so, but thank you so much for your kindness to me. You’ve made it easier. Things are just complicated, and they were always like that when it comes to Lucca and me. They’re so complicated and such a mess that I’m not sure any of it can be fixed.”

“Can I at least ask what happened? You were conflicted the other day, and it was different from when you were first here. Tonight you looked nothing like the woman who was so happy to see her husband alive. You didn’t look like that woman the other day either.”

She’s right, and the most significant part about it was at that time, Dad already told me Lucca planned to kill me. I already had a heads up, and in my heart, I knew it was the truth. But I was so happy to see him it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter until he confirmed it, and he told me everything else about Damien.

Olivia gazes at me, eager for an answer, so I think for a moment about what I can tell her.

“I learned some truths about Lucca’s plans that pushed me in this direction, and I haven’t been able to find my way back,” I decide to say.

“Do the plans change the way you feel about him?” She holds my gaze.

I shake my head. “No, but they should.”

She gives me a little smile. “How you feel should always be your starting point. It doesn’t matter if you shouldn’t feel that way. When we spoke the other day, I think I sounded wise and like I knew everything. I don’t. Before I met Aiden, my mother and I were held captive to a man who staged my brother’s death and planned to marry me to steal my family’s company. He was going to kill my mother and me when all was said and done.”

My mouth falls open. “My God, what did you do.”

“Well, that was how Aiden and I met, and we had a very rocky start that nearly saw him killing me. We both had things we had to work out. All the time, I kept thinking I shouldn’t feel the way I did about him. Not when I was trying to escape someone from the mafia who trapped me and did everything to break me. None of that mattered in the end because I knew I loved him. That was all that mattered to me even when he gave me an exit route.”

I bite the inside of my lip so hard I nearly draw blood. It’s like she can see into my mind, see into the many problems that are swirling around in there.

“I hope that helps in some small way,” she adds, and I nod.

“It does. There’s so much I have to wrap my head around.”

“I figured as much, but don’t try to figure out everything in one go. Start with the most important thing first.” She stands and dips her head. “I’ll leave you to eat and think. If you want to talk some more, I’m just around the corner.”

“Thank you.”

She leaves, and I nibble on the cookies until they’re finished.

The most important thing on my mind is Damien. That’s where I want to start. That’s where I must start.

I do love Lucca, and he was right; we don’t have a loveless marriage. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to stay with him if he refuses to believe me and give Damien Cervantes.

That bastard Damien; no wonder he looked at me with so much hatred every time he saw me.

Any normal person would have cowered away or felt bad for what they did. He looked like he wished he could have killed me too.

I laugh to myself and not a laughter of humor. It’s cynical. He did want to kill me, and that feeling I’ve had since I met him hasn’t changed. I’m sure the man still wants me fucking dead.

I wonder why I didn’t remember him when I first saw him. It’s so odd that I remembered Pasha the moment I saw his face but not Damien. Then again, I only remembered what Dad did recently too. The same question could be asked about him. I guess that’s just how my mind chose to protect me.

Dr. Belmont wasn’t kidding when he said my memories were being suppressed because of bad memories from my past. Jesus, was he ever right.

The next person to come through the door, half an hour later, is Lucca.

I’d graduated to the bed where I was reading one of the thriller novels Olivia left me last night.

My stomach twists when I see him for two reasons. The first is because of my pathetic relief that he’s okay, and the next is from anxiety over Damien.

“Hi,” he says first.

“Hello.” I straighten up when he comes closer.

“Would you like to go home? We’ve been told we can stay if we want to. I have business here in the morning so I don’t mind staying.”

“It’s late, and I don’t mind staying, especially if you have business here.” It sounds so official. “I would like to be home tomorrow, though, to see Dr. Belmont at some point. We’re supposed to be doing violin stuff.”

“That’s fine. I’ll speak to him and get him to come over. I never asked if you told him about what you remembered.”

I narrow my eyes, and my temper spikes. “I didn’t tell him, but he knows I remember. The moment the memory came to me of everything in perfect clarity, I went to you.”

I enunciate the words ‘perfect clarity’. He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Don’t tell him anything. I will speak to him myself when I deal with it.”

When he deals with it?

What the hell does that mean?

“Are you going to deal with it?” I shoot back.

“Yes.”

Lucca strides over to me with those long powerful legs and plants himself down on the bed.

I can tell from the tension across his shoulders that what he found out isn’t good at all, and it’s taken its toll on him.

“What happened with Gina, Lucca? You’re still going to tell me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He glances at me, shrugs out of his jacket then shuffles around to face me.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s really bad, Aria.” He takes a breath, and then he tells me more evil my father did.

I feel like vomiting, and since it’s too early for me to experience any pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, I can’t blame it on that.

I threw up too when I first remembered what my father did to my mother. The same feeling churns my stomach now, and I wish I never the details of the secret.

I look at him, and I’m almost scared to ask the next question. “What about Damien, Lucca?”

I’m not asking the question now because of the company. I’m asking because of the glaring fact that Damien obviously must have known this secret too.

Lucca stands, walks over to the window where I’d sat earlier, and rests his hands on the bay. His hair falls over his face when he bows his head.

“You still don’t believe me?” I check.

“I never said I didn’t believe you,” he answers, and my attention piques.

“You sounded like you didn’t believe me.”

“My hesitation isn’t about that. I think he more than likely knew the secret this whole time, and it’s hard for me to get my head around him being one more person who betrayed me. He’d be the worst of all. He really was like a father to me. I am who I am because of him. What I want is the truth.”

I consider how he must feel, and my heart aches for him. I don’t know what he and Damien planned for my mother, but it’s obvious it wasn’t to team up with my father to kill her.

“I’m sorry. Despite how I feel about him, I tried to check my mind to see if I was as mistaken as you thought I might be, but I’m not. Damien shot my mother. I’ve never told you this, but when you lose your memories like I did, you can distinguish what your mind makes up from what is true. That was true.”

When he returns his silver gaze to me, I notice that the wall is down, and I can see his soul through the window of his eyes again.

But he doesn’t give me a chance to look any deeper, and he doesn’t say anything more to me either. The conversation is over.

He turns away and leaves, leaving me with the heaviness of the truth lingering in the air.

All I can think of now is what’s going to happen next now that the skeletons are falling out of the closet, and I’m getting my memories back with all the dark secrets people wanted hidden.

What really will happen next?

I rest my hand on my stomach for the first time since finding out I’m pregnant and I hope and wish that I’ll make it out through.

The last thing left is the business, and my father will want me dead when the time comes.