Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles

Arias's POV

I had always imagined that if my mom ever had big news, it would be something life-changing, like winning the lottery or deciding we were moving to a tiny house in the middle of nowhere. Something huge.

Instead, she sat across from me at our tiny kitchen table, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the rim of her coffee cup, and casually announced she was getting married.

Married.

To Victor Castillo.

For a second, I just stared at her, my brain refusing to process what she had just said. Victor Castillo. Victor Castillo. As in, the man who had made my life miserable with his smug little smirks, backhanded compliments, and condescending attitude. The man who always looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his stupid designer shoes.

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the rage bubbling up inside me. My mother tilted her head, her lips curving into a small, expectant smile, like she was waiting for me to leap up and hug her or something. Yeah, right.

“Well?” she finally said, her voice sharp, like a knife slicing through the tension. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in myears. My fingers curled around the edge of the table, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping me from snapping.

Victor Castillo. The name alone made my skin crawl. How could she even think this was okay? How could she look at me with a straight face and expect me to be happy about this?

Across the table, Cassandra let out an excited squeal, practically vibrating in her seat. Her blonde curls bounced as she clapped her hands together.

“Oh my God, Mom! That’s amazing! Congratulations!” she gushed, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

I flinched. Of course she was thrilled.

My mother reached across the table to squeeze Cassandra’s hand, her expression softening in a way it never did when she looked at me. “Thank you, darling. I knew you’d be happy for me.”

I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“I should go,” I mumbled, pushing my chair back. The sound of the legs scraping against the tile made my teeth clench, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out.

My mother barely spared me a glance. “Of course, you’re always so busy,” she said dismissively, waving a hand like my presence—or lack of it—didn’t matter.

I didn’t look back as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

---

The walk back to my apartment felt longer than usual, the cold air stinging my cheeks as I replayed the conversation over and over in my head.

Victor Castillo.

It didn’t make sense. My mom was beautiful, successful, and could have literally anyone—so why him? Why the one man who had made my life miserable in the most subtle, infuriating ways? He never said anything outright cruel, but his words always had this edge, like a knife coated in sugar.

“Are you sure you want to wear that, Aria?”

“You’re so… different from your sister.”

“Maybe if you smiled more, people wouldn’t find you so intimidating.”

I gritted my teeth, my nails digging into my palms. He was fake, manipulative, and worst of all? My mom never noticed. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care.

By the time I got to my apartment, I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I tossed my bag onto the couch, kicked off my shoes, and flopped onto my bed, staring at the cracked ceiling.

Silence.

It was comforting and suffocating all at once.

My phone buzzed. I grabbed it off the nightstand, my heart stupidly hopeful for a second, but of course, it was my mother.

I let it ring once. Twice. Three times.

Then I answered.

“Aria,” she said, her voice sharp and impatient. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t be more supportive earlier. This is a big moment for me. Can’t you at least pretend to be happy for once?”

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. “I’ll send you a gift,” I said flatly, forcing my voice to stay even.

She sighed dramatically, like I was the biggest disappointment in the world. “You’ve always been so cold,” she muttered. “I don’t know why you can’t be more like Cassandra. She was thrilled, you know. You could learn a thing or two from her.”

There it was. The comparison. The same one I’d been hearing my entire life.

Why can’t you be more like Cassandra?

Why can’t you just be happy for me?

Why can’t you just smile?

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “Goodnight, Mom.”

I hung up before she could say anything else.

For a second, I just sat there, gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. Then, without warning, the tears came. Hot, angry, stupid tears. I wiped them away furiously, cursing myself for letting her get to me again.

She didn’t deserve my tears. None of them did.

I turned onto my side, my gaze landing on the only framed photo on my nightstand. My father.

A quiet man with kind eyes. The only person who had ever made me feel like I was enough.

He would have hated Victor Castillo.

My phone buzzed again. I groaned, expecting another lecture from my mom, but it wasn’t her.

It was Cassandra.

Hey, Aria! Come dress shopping with me tomorrow? It’ll be fun!

I stared at the message, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Spending a whole day with Cassandra sounded like a nightmare, but saying no would only make things worse.

With a resigned sigh, I typed back: Okay, sure.

As I set the phone down, I let out a long, exhausted breath.

Tomorrow was going to suck.