A Sinner’s Truth (De Bellis Crime Family Book 5)
A Sinner’s Truth: Chapter 8

If ever there was a time for the world to open up and swallow me whole, now would be it. Humiliation fills every core of my being as the events of last night hit me. And they hit me hard.

What on earth was I bloody thinking, asking a complete stranger to marry me? And not just any stranger. No, I had to go and ask one of the notorious De Bellis brothers. I’ve heard of them. I’d be surprised if anyone in this city hadn’t heard the name before. And I’ve seen them, in tabloids, at charity galas and parties. But I’ve never spoken to any of them.

I don’t know what came over me. I’m blaming a mixture of desperation and alcohol. And he turned me down. Which intensifies my embarrassment tenfold. I don’t really put myself out there that much, and now I know why. I mean, he didn’t contemplate my offer for even a second. But why would he? He’s a De Bellis. Why on earth would he agree to marry me for a year?

“Why are you hiding under the covers?” Drew’s voice has me pulling the blankets off my face.

“Because I’m waiting for the world to swallow me whole,” I groan.

“What happened? Did you find a husband?” he asks.

“Worse.” I cover my face again. If I stay under the blankets, then maybe I can live in a fantasy world where last night didn’t happen.

“What happened?” The mattress dips as Drew sits on the edge. Then the blankets are being tugged off me.

“I proposed to someone and he said no,” I groan again.

“Okay, well, that’s kind of expected. I wouldn’t be jumping into a marriage if some random chick came up to me in a bar and proposed.” Drew shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“It wasn’t just anyone,” I whisper.

“Who did you propose to?”

“Santo De Bellis.” I close my eyes, not wanting to see the look on my best friend’s face.

“You proposed to a De Bellis? Yeah, that’s not happening, Aria. You know what that family does, don’t you?” Drew sighs.

“I know, but I thought he’d be perfect. Dad wouldn’t object. No one would. But it doesn’t matter. He said no,” I grumble.

“I think you dodged a bullet, probably literally,” Drew says. “Come on, let’s just go to your father and tell him it’s not happening.”

“I can’t. He won’t give me my trust if I do that.”

“I can give you money,” Drew offers.

“It’s not the money I want,” I remind him. Though I don’t have to. My best friend knows what I really want from my trust.

“I know, but there has to be another way,” he says.

My phone rings from my bedside table. I quickly swipe it up and see my dad’s name on the screen. “Speak of the devil and he appears,” I tell Drew before tapping the green answer button. “Hello.”

“Aria, we have a lunch meeting today. Four Seasons. Be there at 12:30,” my father says.

“Ah, okay, who is this meeting with?” I ask him.

“Your fiancé,” he answers and then disconnects the call.

“Ugh. Why is this happening to me?” I feel the tears start to form at the corners of my eyes. I’ve already cried enough, and crying isn’t going to solve anything. I’m still in this predicament.

“What he want?” Drew asks.

“I have to meet him and Oliver for lunch.”

“Want me to come?”

“No, it’s fine.” I toss the blankets aside and drag my ass out of bed. I don’t have long to pull myself together.

Walking into the Four Seasons, I straighten my shoulders. Throughout this whole façade of an engagement, I’ve refused to let them see how much it’s affecting me. As soon as I reach the table, my father stands and hugs me. The polite greeting. There’s no warmth to it at all.

And then Oliver stands. I don’t have a choice but to return his embrace. He goes to kiss me and I turn my head to the side, offering him my cheek instead. His hand slides down to my ass and his fingers squeeze the flesh. I quickly step out of his hold, pull out a chair, and sit down. I wish I could go and disinfect myself.

“You look beautiful as always, Aria,” Oliver says, his gaze lingering on my chest.

I wore one of my most conservative outfits. My pale-blue blouse is buttoned up all the way to my neck, and my black skirt reaches just past my knees. There isn’t anything sexy about what I’m wearing, and yet this creep is looking at me like he wants to eat me alive, and not in a good way.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask my father while doing my best to ignore Oliver.

“We need to sign a prenuptial agreement,” Oliver answers at the same time he shoves a stack of papers at me.

“A prenup? Seriously?” I look to Dad, and he nods at me. “Okay, well, I’ll read over it and get it back to you,” I tell Oliver.

“No need. Just sign it. Your father has already approved all the contingencies.” Oliver smirks, placing a pen in front of me.

My mouth goes dry. I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to sign something I haven’t read. “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.” I push out my chair and stand before practically running into the ladies’ room.

I turn on the tap and splash water over my hands and wrists. Anything to try to calm my racing heart. I don’t know if I can do this. I’m willing myself not to cry, not to fall apart right now. I won’t let them win. Whatever game my father is playing at, I will find out. I just hope I can do it before it’s too late.

After staring at my own reflection for five minutes, I head back out to the dining room and take my seat. As I do, something catches my eye from across the room. Not something. Someone.

Santo De Bellis. My face heats when he looks directly at me. Great, could this day get any worse?

“Aria, you need to sign these papers,” my dad says, which snaps me out of my daze.

“I need to read them first. You taught me never to sign anything without reading it first, Dad. How do I know I’m not signing my entire wealth over to him?” I ask.

“I don’t need your money, Aria,” Oliver seethes.

“What do you need, Oliver? What exactly are you both getting out of this? Because I seem to be the only one getting screwed here,” I hiss, keeping my voice low.

“You’re not getting screwed. At least not yet.” Oliver leans over and whispers into my ear, so my father doesn’t hear him.

It’s a good thing I haven’t eaten yet. I’d be at risk of throwing it all right back up. “I want a clause in here. I’m not sleeping with him,” I tell my father.

“Aria, this isn’t the place or the time for this conversation.” Dad shifts in his seat.

“This marriage will be real in every sense of the word,” Oliver states while glaring at me with those beady eyes of his.

“This is a marriage on paper only. You will never touch me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take the documents home and read over them.” I don’t wait for either men to object to my leaving as I rise from my seat.

I can’t believe this is happening. It’s not until I get to the foyer of the hotel that I feel the first tear fall down my cheek. Sliding my sunglasses over my eyes, I walk outside and start heading up the street. I don’t want to chance my father or Oliver coming after me. I’ll deal with the fallout of my behaviour later. At this point, my situation really can’t get any worse.

Once I’m two blocks down from the hotel, I pull out my phone and call for an Uber. I just want to go home, run a bath, and drink a bottle of wine. I’m starting to see why so many high-society wives are alcoholics and drug addicts. They need something to numb their reality.

Everything is shiny on the outside of the lives of the one-percenters. But on the inside, it’s nothing but a bloody shitshow of men controlling women and women allowing it. Once I’m done with this next year of my life, I’m never letting a man tell me what to do ever again.

I’m going to be free. I might even move and force Drew to move with me to some place far away. At least if I take my best friend with me, I won’t be missing anyone I leave behind.

I do like my job, though, but I’m not going to wait around for my father to retire and hope that he actually lets me take over the company. Knowing my luck, he’ll sell it off to the highest bidder. Just like he did with me.