Her gaze hardened after only a few words in his response. There he sat, presenting his fist as it was a piece of fine art that desperately needed admiration. After all, if no saw it, it meant the effort put into its color meant next to nothing. Either he knew nothing about her father, or he wanted to irritate her enough to correct him. Aria was smart enough to not take him for a stupid man, but she would have liked the sentiment to have been returned. He couldn’t have possibly understood how completely she wanted out from her father’s abusive thumb. She also understood that she would trade one ruthless captor for another. Yet, her hope would be to play at his heartstrings. Marco Rossi took her for a disobedient child, but Lazzaro Cavelini would surely see her in another light?<br/><br/>It was impossible for her to form a coherent reply to his assumption that she would go anywhere with him. At this moment, she could object all she liked. In a few days, she knew she needed to find where she stood with the<i>Cavelini Angel</i>. As his wife, was she his equal, or did he expect to preside over her like he did the Made Men under his rule? Turns out, she didn’t need to say anything. Lazzaro noticed her father’s men. While she didn’t want any attention given to them, it wasn’t so save them the shame of blowing their cover.<br/><br/>He spoke in that way that made it clear he was to be heard. The tone in his voice sent a shiver through her thin frame. When the two men came to stand behind her, Aria turned her head, making note of how shiny their shoes were, before lifting her head and setting her green hues on the man who demanded attention without a word. She picked out and offered stick, not entirely intent on picking up on his bad habits.<br/><br/>“They don’t answer to me.” She stated flatly. In fact, the two goons her father had sent her way she had a rather severe distaste for. One she knew as a rapist and the other dealt drugs under her father’s nose. The great Marco Rossi was being played left and right and was too selfish and stupid to notice. Lazzaro turned his voice to the soldiers, pinning them the floorboards. She didn’t have to turn to see the drug-dealing moron look at her in the hopes she’d save his sorry ass. Her fiancé seemed to take offense to that, leaving the man silently scoffing and swallowing whatever retort his dim mind may have formulated under the pressures. The expression in Lazzaro‘s gaze surely had the potential to kill. Aria averted her own eyes, trying to forget what she had seen.<br/><br/>The food had appeared on the table as if my magic and the menu had been slipped from her fingers before she’d even be able to give it proper attention. Irritation rolled over her momentarily as she realized she wouldn’t even be allowed to order her own fucking food. Yet, what sat in front of her did like quite amazing.<br/><br/>The tapping at the edge of bowl had one of the men practically stumbling over himself for a breadstick, but soon they were on their way and Aria could take in the breath she didn’t think she had been holding tight.<br/><br/>And then he asked what made her angry. Green eyes took him for a few Solent moments before she felt prepared to even speak again. “Marco Rossi.” She said flatly, this time not daring to lose eye contact. Aria also took a sip of the wine, before spinning pasta around a fork. Now that her father’s men were disposed of, here was newfound freedom in what she could say. The filter was gone. “Marrying you.” Her voice had gone soft, but what better to start with that the truth.