“I can chase you, and I can catch you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine.”
― Morrissey
It all started with a note, just a simple note hand written by a woman I didn't know, never even met. But in that note is perhaps every answer to every question I've ever had in my life. And because of that note, I travel thousands of miles. I look for her, but find him. I'm drawn to his passion, his talent, a darkness in him that somehow becomes my light, my life. I know he has secrets. I don't care. Because you see, I have secrets, too.
I'm not Aria Alard, daughter to an Italian musician, as he believes. I'm Aria Stradivari, daughter to Alessandro Stradivari, a musician born from the same blood as the man who created the famous Stradivari violin. I am as rare as the mere 650 instruments my ancestors created. Instruments worth millions. 650 masterpieces, the brilliance unmatched. 650 reasons to kill. 650 reasons to hide. One reason to not to: him.
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