Letters From a Lost Love

A 'Godfather' Fic (Michael Corleone and Ariella McGyver)

Chapter 1: The Things They Couldn't Say

New York City, 1961

Ariella McGyver walked up the path of Michael Corleone's home, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. The plan was simple, really: convince Michael that marrying her would be in his best interests. It wasn't about love, though she did love him. It was about providing him with options, namely, a second son to carry on the family business. It was about giving her peace of mind, peace she hadn't had since she was ten years old. For nearly three decades, Ariella had completely shut herself off from the rest of the world. Not physically, but emotionally. She had tried to live a normal life, tried to live by society's standards, but she couldn't. Not after everything she had gone through. She wasn't meant for white picket fences and immaculate yards.

Her sister, Anastasia Bianchi, had never fully understood that, though it wasn't for lack of trying. Ariella hadn't completely confided in her sister about what had been done to her. She had lost her innocence at a time when it was most precious, had been used and abused at her mother's behest. All because she looked like her father. All because her mother had cared more for power than her own daughter.

Anastasia had been the golden child, the one who could do no wrong in their mother's eyes. It was Ana who had inherited her mother's fine Sicilian features, while Ariella was the spitting image of her father: fiery red hair, green eyes like a cat's, fair skin. They were both extremely beautiful girls, but their mother, Camilla, had favored Anastasia more. Camilla had done her best to try to stamp out her daughters' Irish heritage, but Ariella had clung to it with a fervor that made her mother violently ill, resulting in her death a year after Ariella's return from Ireland. Both daughters were raised strictly Italian: forced to learn the culture with no room for error. It had certainly helped Camilla's case that they lived close to the Corleone family, a family mixed up in nefarious business, a family Camilla was forced to be a part of after she murdered her husband. She had subsequently gone to Don Vito Corleone and confessed to him. He offered her a way out: that her name would be kept out of the papers so long as she worked as his secretary. She had agreed, and had been faithful to him for many years. At least, that's what she made him think.

Ariella and Anastasia had grown up with the Corleone family, visiting them every night for dinner. As an adult, Ariella now understood the real reason: Vito Corleone had never fully trusted Camilla Bianchi, and so he watched her every move like a hawk. It was good to be cautious. Ariella had loved all the Corleone children: Santino, Fredo, Michael, and Constanza (Connie for short), but she had been especially close to Michael. They were the same age, after all. Michael saw her the same way he saw Connie, as someone to love and protect, but the same could not be said of Ariella. She was positively in love with him, and had been since she was thirteen years old. Not that she ever told him, or told anyone. From the time she was ten, she'd learned to be invisible, to not feel anything for anyone. Feelings only got you hurt. And Ariella was tired of being hurt.

That's why she was going to see Michael. This was a business proposition, not a love fest. She just hoped he would agree.

The door opened almost instantly at her knock. It was Al Neri, Michael's personal bodyguard. He gave her a restrained smile.

"Are you here to see Michael?"

Ariella rolled her eyes. "No, I'm here to sell you a bridge, but that would work too."

Neri's eyes widened slightly. He knew Ariella well enough to know if she was making jokes, something serious was afoot.

"I'll let him know you're here," Neri replied, letting Ariella in.

A few minutes later, the door to Michael's study opened, and Tom Hagan (the Corleone consigliere) stepped out. He nodded to Ariella, then left.

Ariella walked confidently into Michael's study, determined to do this right.

Michael gave her a small smile.

"Ariella, what can I do for you?"

Ariella had to remind herself to keep breathing. Seeing Michael smile so genuinely was a rare feat. Having that smile directed at her, well, it was a wonder she didn't faint on the spot. But Ariella wasn't one for fainting like some giddy girl.

She was here on a mission.

Focus.

Keeping her tone and expression as neutral as possible, she began, "I'm here to make you a business proposition."

Instantly, she could see the change in his demeanor: the tightening around his eyes, the way he shifted in his seat, the calculating stare. Traits she knew extremely well.

"I'm listening."

"I'm proposing a match between the two of us. A marriage of convenience, if you will."

"And how does this benefit me?"

"If you agree, you will have the chance to hopefully cement your standing with another son."

"Is that all?"

"You will also have the unwavering support and loyalty of someone who you can not only trust, but who also knows and understands the customs of the Family."

Michael nodded intently, his eyes never leaving Ariella's.

"I see. What about you?"

"I didn't come here to discuss me."

"Surely you get something out of this deal."

"When you figure it out, you can let me know."

Michael's eyes narrowed.

Ariella didn't flinch. She'd dealt with harsher people than Michael Corleone. Her mother, for instance.

Not that she wasn't afraid of him. Anyone who met this man and wasn't afraid of him was an utter fool. But Ariella had a healthy fear and respect for him. Which is why she could say things that would have gotten someone else killed on the spot. She knew he held her in high regard, especially since she had saved his life a few years ago.

That didn't mean she had to be rude, however.

She waited expectantly. Would he throw her out?

He crooked his finger at her.

"Come here."

She obeyed, coming to kneel before him.

He lifted her chin, looking deep into her eyes.

"If you can tell me this is just a business proposition, I'll consider your offer."

Ariella laughed.

"Oh, I'm not falling for your trap."

"What trap?"

"'Speak to me only with thine eyes'. Yeah, try again."

Michael was silent for a few minutes as he studied her.

"What do you want?" he asked finally.

"Why do you assume I want something? I came to help you."

"Is that so?"

"This is business, Michael. Not personal. I thought you of all people would understand that."

Their gazes locked, and Michael nodded as if he'd finally figured her out.

Without warning, he pulled her up on his lap.

"What are you doing?" she protested.

He didn't answer, just stared at her with an inscrutable expression.

Then he held her chin firmly as he kissed her.

Ariella knew better than to pull away. No one ever refused the don, not even close friends and family.

When he let her go, he gave her a cold smile.

"Can you still tell me this is just business?"

Ariella responded in kind. She hated to admit it, but her mother had trained her well.

"Yes."

"So you felt nothing."

"A feeling with which I know you're well acquainted."

Michael stared at her impassively.

She gave him an insolent smirk.

"Feelings are so…useless, aren't they? I mean, people hurt you and you still try to care for them. Like Fredo. And Kay. I don't blame you for killing your brother. Frankly, I would have done the same. Kay, well, she was just hateful. I would never have treated you with such disrespect."

Then Ariella turned and walked back to her chair.

Once she was seated, Michael said, "So you truly believe you're the right choice for me."

"Yes."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, you're entitled to your opinion."

Michael shook his head. He knew Ariella was feisty, but he hadn't expected such blatant disregard.

To be completely honest, she frightened him a little.

She was far too unpredictable. He needed someone a little more stable to be his life partner, someone he could completely control.

But Ariella was still his friend, still his assistant. And no matter how unpredictable she was, she had still proven herself time and time again.

Besides, regardless of what she said to the contrary, when he'd looked into her eyes, looked past the façade, he'd seen a hint of the person she used to be. He could almost swear she…loved him.

But that was impossible. He was incapable of love or of being loved. And Ariella herself had admitted to him that she couldn't love anyone. She had tried in the past, but it had never worked out in her favor.

But it made him wonder…was the real reason she had rejected those other men because she loved him? And if so, how long had she had those feelings?

They had known each other all their lives. He had trusted her with things he had never told anyone else, because he knew it would be safe with her.

She knew nearly everything about him, but he regretted that he knew nearly next to nothing about her. He remembered that around age ten, she had begun to shut down emotionally. If anyone had asked him why, he wouldn't have been able to tell them. She hadn't smiled in nearly thirty years. It broke his heart, made him vow to find whoever had hurt her and destroy them. He suspected her mother had had something to do with it, but he had had no concrete proof. As he moved up in the family business and began guarding his emotions fiercely (out of necessity, mind you), he realized what an asset Ariella would be to him. Which is why he had made the decision to recruit her to the business, something that had been unheard of in the old days. Women weren't meant for positions of power. But Michael Corleone knew what he was doing.

He needed Ariella to persuade men to agree to his demands. Yes, he could threaten to hurt them or kill them, but sometimes that wasn't always the right choice. And Ariella was intelligent enough to get men to do what she wanted. It wasn't always about physical attraction, though that didn't hurt. It was about exploiting their weaknesses, which many times had nothing to do with sex. Besides, men always liked a pretty face.

Michael had spent most of his life constructing walls around his heart. But he wasn't an expert like Ariella. Michael knew most people regarded him as cold, callous, and devoid of humanity, but they had never met Ariella. Ariella McGyver was terrifying. Sometimes he wondered what she would have done if he'd never asked her to join him in the business. Would she have been a serial killer?

Michael killed people who posed a threat to him. Ariella looked like she would have killed people just for looking at her the wrong way.

He knew it was horrible to think of his best friend in such gruesome terms, but he couldn't help it. What had happened to her to make her almost…sociopathic?

He was afraid to ask, knowing he would hate the answer.

Ariella was staring at him coldly, sending shivers down his spine.

He needed to be back in control.

"I've decided to consider your proposal. That being said, I would like to have dinner at your house tonight at 7. Would that be acceptable?"

"Yes. There's just one thing."

"What is it?"

"No business at the table."

Michael smirked. He had trained her well.

"Thank you for this opportunity to speak with you. I'll see you at 7."

Michael inclined his head, and Ariella smiled.

Then she got up and left the room, Michael staring pensively after her.

If he was going to do this, he might as well get to know her better.

After all, this was to be a marriage of convenience.

But for the first time in his life, Michael Corleone couldn't say whether that was a good thing or not.