Prologue.
1047 Words
Aria's POV
How do you evade someone as formidable as the Godfather of the Italian Mafia? How do you survive when you're off the grid? You do what I do. You leverage your unique skills. You adopt an alias to sell your paintings, using an agent as a shield. You hide in plain sight, under his very nose. You reside in a secluded house in the mountains near his stronghold. You change your identity, making it impossible for him to trace your finances. You rely on the only person who still cares about you. You make them promise not to reveal your whereabouts.
Am I terrified for my life? Absolutely. But I refuse to let fear paralyze me. I am Aria, and I will not be a victim.
It all started that faithful night when I tried to make extra money to study the arts. My dream was never realized. The night I hurt my right hand, my future was in shambles as I lost my bursary to study the arts.
I always loved Antonio Pistone. We have known each other since we were children. He even promised me that he would always look after me when my father was mistreating me. Well, that night, everything changed, and I had nothing to do with it. His betrayal, the betrayal of the one I trusted most, shattered my life, leaving me with nothing but the ruins of my dreams.
Antonio, now the Godfather of the Italian Mafia. Amelia, a renowned actress. My brother Peter, a professor at Oxford, and I were all close friends. Like me, Amelia's life could have been different until she discovered her wealthy birth parents. This revelation changed her.
When my family and I returned to England, everything changed. My father never loved me, and my mother was more concerned with pleasing him and Peter than with me. It was only later that I understood the reason for my father's intense dislike for me. The complex web of relationships and the shifting dynamics among us created an undercurrent of tension and uncertainty.
Peter, the only person who cares about me, is only my half-brother. My father's first wife died when Peter was born. He only married my mother to look after Peter, and well, of course, he needed a woman to warm his bed.
When my mother got pregnant by accident, I was born, and my father was furious, as he never wanted another child. He only wanted the child of his first love. So when I hurt my hand that awful night, he refused to help me and chased me out of the house because I was useless in his eyes. His rejection cut deeper than any physical wound.
That night, I went to Pistone's house to help as a servant get extra money for my studies as I needed to take odd jobs to pay for some books I needed. At first, I wanted to study business economics, and I wanted to study it as well, but my bursary was only for studying art.
I was serving everybody when I saw Amelia, my old friend. I greeted her, but she treated me like I was nothing and pushed the drinks out of my hand. She stepped on my hand when I was down to clean up the mess. The glass went right through my hand, hurting some of my nerves. The pain was excruciating, but what hurt more was the betrayal from someone I once considered a friend.
Someone recorded and played the incident while a video about Antonio's life was shown. I had nothing to do with that video, but the hatred in Antonio's eyes when he looked at me pained me deeply. I knew I had to get away because his girlfriend, Amelia, was humiliated in front of everyone. Even though I was not involved, I knew he would blame me. I knew his parents would never accept her. She had been unkind to me, but Antonio did not see it that way. He saw me as betraying his beloved Amelia.
I left the house and returned to England. However, after going to the hospital and realizing that my hand wouldn't heal on its own and that I needed surgery, my father kicked me out of the house, knowing that I would lose my scholarship. When I went to the university to explain the situation, they canceled my scholarship.
In a sense, I felt relieved knowing that I would not attend the same university Antonio would. I knew that Antonio was coming to Oxford. I couldn't face him, and I knew he hated me. I still loved him, and I know his hatred for me will hurt me for the rest of my life. I was afraid that if he caught me, he might try to harm me.
I cut off my long hair, dyed it a different color, and started working all over England.
Peter warned me that Antonio and his parents were looking for me, so I knew I had to run away. I realized I could no longer use my name, so I changed my name, got a new ID, and went to Rome.
Initially, I worked as a street artist, painting pictures and selling them to tourists while learning to use my left hand. One day, a renowned older artist noticed me and took me under his wing. He was impressed by my work and started teaching me. I became skilled with my left hand, and my right hand became needless.
Now I am the famous artist Ariana Brown, and people pay much money for my paintings. I make a good living and love staying in remote areas. I rarely see anyone other than my brother and only go to town when necessary. When I go to Rome, I ensure I stay in the parts Antonio and his family will never go.
Also, I've managed to stay off the grid, leaving no photos or information about me online.
I look at the man sitting next to the man, painting. He is my fiancé. I met Mark at art school. He is an artist like me. Do I love him? I do not know, but I do know that he is good for me and very protective.
- Writer
