Chapter 6

"Flavia, please calm down," Ginevra ordered, her voice filled with concern.

"Calm down? How can you ask me to calm down?" Flavia responded, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

"Honey, please..." Matteo pleaded, his voice filled with desperation as he looked directly at Flavia.

"Hai venduto mia sorella!!!(you sold my sister). You sold Aria to the Genovese" Flavia shouted, her voice filled with accusation and pain.

"What would you have had us do? Matteo owed a lot of money, and if we didn't come up with a plan, the Genovese would have taken it out on all of us, including you!" Ginevra yelled, her voice tinged with frustration.

"That doesn't justify selling my sister! It's unfair," Flavia cried, tears streaming down her face. "She was my everything, and now I'll never see her again."

"I'm sure there's something we can do..." Matteo said softly, looking back and forth between Flavia and Ginevra, searching for a solution.

"Stop it, father! They're the Genovese, and we all know it's impossible to penetrate them. I'll never forgive you for this, both of you!" Flavia wept and ran inside the house, her pain too overwhelming to bear.

"She's just throwing a tantrum. She'll be fine," Ginevra spoke, her voice filled with sadness as she followed her daughter into the house. Matteo stood outside, his confusion and regret consuming him. It now occurred to him that Flavia was right - he would never see Aria again. "Stupid Matteo, stupid!" he cursed, slapping himself across the face. He knelt on the ground and wept, his heart breaking at the loss of his daughter. "Forgive me, Aria. I'm a terrible father."

ARIA FRANCESCO

I stood before Paolo, who led me into a dressing room.

"Alessandro needs you to wear this," he instructed, tossing a red gown my way. I caught it in my hand and exhaled, taking a moment to examine the revealing outfit. I shot Paolo a sharp glare. "You can't be serious."

"What?" he asked defensively, his expression turning stern.

I took another look at the dress. It was an off-shoulder gown with a long slit that would expose way too much of my thighs and cleavage. "There's no way I'm wearing this."

"You don't have a choice," Paolo replied, his voice firm.

"Yes, I do, and that choice is a definite no. I'm not a whore," I snapped back, refusing to back down.

Paolo clenched his fist and looked away, his frustration evident. "We could do this the hard way."

"I'm not wearing the dress, Paolo," I stated plainly, determined not to back down from my principles. Without warning, he grabbed my jaw in a painful grip, pulling me closer.

"You're not going to make me repeat myself, and no one addresses me as Paolo, except for Alessandro. Do you understand?" His voice was filled with authority, and I nodded immediately, the pain in my jaw intensifying. He pushed me backwards, but I managed to maintain my balance. "Go in there and get dressed!" he ordered, storming away and leaving me alone with my thoughts. I looked at the dress once more, tears welling up in my eyes. How could they force me into such a degrading outfit? I sniffled, wiping away my tears before entering the room where two ladies awaited me – one blonde and the other with dark hair.

"She's the one Alessandro instructed," the dark-haired lady said upon seeing me, walking closer and taking a strand of my hair in her hand. "Hmm, there's a lot of work to do."

"We'll have it covered for Alessandro," the blonde replied, wearing a forced smile. They led me to a tub, where I was made to strip and subjected to their version of a thorough wash. I sat before a dressing mirror, my emotions in turmoil. They fixed my hair and did my makeup, and before I knew it, I was standing before them in the red gown that was even worse than I had imagined.

"You'll be fine," the dark-haired girl smiled at me, extending her hand. "Isabella."

"Aria," I whispered back, my voice barely audible. She smiled warmly at me, trying to provide some comfort.

"It's normal to feel overwhelmed on your first day. You'll get through it," she assured me, her words offering a sliver of hope. The blonde lady approached us, signaling that it was time to move.

"Let's go. The guests are waiting," she said, leading the way. I followed behind, my heart pounding with uncertainty.

We arrived at a crowded bar, filled with loud music and laughter. I had never experienced such a large gathering in my life. Isabella guided me towards a man seated with a glass of alcohol in his hand - Alessandro Genovese himself.

"Alessandro!" the blonde lady called, walking towards him and taking a seat by his side. "Aria Francesco," she introduced, a forced smile on her face. Alessandro stared at me with his dark, emotionless eyes.

"She's ready," Isabella announced, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I'll take her to..." the blonde lady began.

"Come!" Alessandro's command interrupted her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Aria, come," he repeated, extending his hand towards me. I gulped, unsure of his intentions. Did he want to humiliate me in front of everyone? The blonde lady by his side seemed eager for my downfall. Negative energy filled the air, but against my better judgment, I took a slow step towards him, hesitantly accepting his hand. He guided me to sit on his lap, causing a wave of glares and murmurs to ripple through the crowd. The attention was suffocating.

"You look beautiful," his whisper sent shivers down my spine, his touch affecting me in ways I couldn't explain. "What do you say?"

"Th-Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. He smiled at my response.

"Go do your job then," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on my neck before helping me stand. Isabella approached, taking my hand and getting ready to lead me away. I hugged myself, feeling as if my world had come crashing down around me. "Take her," Alessandro instructed Isabella, who nodded and guided me towards my next task. As I followed her, I couldn't help but feel that my life had taken a dark and dangerous turn.

"Take this and deliver it to the gentleman over there," Isabella instructed, and I nodded in agreement as I took the tray of drinks from her. I began walking towards the man, who was engrossed in laughter with a woman seated beside him. I couldn't help but feel relieved that he was in the company of another woman.

"Aria!" I heard my name being called and turned to see the blonde approaching me.

"Take this drink to the gentleman over there," she pointed towards a rather boisterous and irritating-looking man.

"But Isabella..." I started to protest.

"I am your superior, so you must listen to me. Now, move!" she ordered, giving me a slight push from behind. I narrowed my eyes, scanning the area for Alessandro and Paolo, but they were nowhere to be found. Not that they would have been of any help, but their presence would have provided some sense of comfort. Resigned, I made my way closer to where the man was seated, feeling a sense of unease.

As I bent down to place the tray on the table, inadvertently exposing my cleavage, he couldn't help but look. But his actions went further; he reached out and touched me. I quickly stood up, startled by his inappropriate behavior.

"What?" he asked, clearly oblivious to the fact that his actions had crossed a line. I fought back tears, feeling violated after such a brutal encounter.

"Vuoi batterti con me?" (Do you want to fight me?) he asked, rising to his feet.

"No," I whispered, moving backwards and accidentally knocking over a nearby table.

"Attenta, piccola puttana!" (Watch it, little whore) cursed the man behind me, before forcefully pushing me back towards the chubby man who now trapped me in his arms. He grabbed my rear end violently, and I struggled to break free.

"Get off of me!" I shouted, desperately attempting to release myself from his grip. But his strength overwhelmed me.

In a desperate attempt to defend myself, I looked at the table and grabbed a glass of alcohol, smashing it onto his head. The entire crowd gasped, some even laughing at the dramatic scene that unfolded before them. I'm sure there were people taking pictures as well.

I couldn't fathom what would happen next, and I didn't have the luxury to think. I simply ran, not caring about the pain in my feet from the high heels I wore. I ran as if my life depended on it, until I found myself in an unfamiliar place. Gasping for breath, I took off my shoe and continued running. I would escape to a place where no one, not even the mighty Alessandro Genovese, could find me.