Chapter 23 (Aliyana)


    We''ve been stuck together for thest year and a half.


    I had school most of the days, and it was far from the boy''s high school, which meant I didn''t spend


    much time with them. Next year that will change.


    Michel and Ren suggested I attend their school because of the art program. Ren was prepared to go to


    Papa and ask him.


    Something that made me like the pimpled face boy, yet, find him annoying. Arrogance is dangerous,


    and we are kids. Papa doesn''t like arrogant people.


    I exined this in the morning before we all left and again, once I got home today, but Ren refused to


    hear a word of my exnation. It went through one ear and vanished.


    Simmone, Capo Stagio Russo''s sisterughed when I made a sound that should never be made while I


    colored her house with words no youngdy should say, storming out of there in frustration and up into


    the attic.


    Which is the reason I was snippy today. Now, I am not so sure about my insolent snappy attitude.


    Thirteen is hard as it is. Add in the facts- I was pawned off to live in Chicago, my mother is dead, and I


    have no one to admit to that recently I got my period. I''m rethinking my decision to keep to myself. A


    lot.


    Ren and the others only want to be my friend. I need friends, and they are going to be significant men


    Property ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    one day, so they are excellent friends to have in this world. I think this as I head on to my room to


    shower and change my clothes, which consist of distressed ck denim pants, a well fitted white soft


    cashmere tee, and ck suede Corvette shoes.


    My hair takes me ten minutes to brush out, and I think about Mero’s request to get Christy''s number. If I


    am going to be these guys friend, then I am going to have to do my part too. They want me in their


    group. A woman born into our world didn’t get an opportunity like this, ever.


    My thoughts carry on when I see they are all waiting for me downstairs, and I am 15 minuteste. None


    of them utter a word.


    I think on it, even more, when Gabriel introduces me to a boy in his ss that indeed knows a lot more


    about me than I do, including the knowledge of my sister or should I say, siblings.


    “So, tell me, Dexter Kent, are the rumors true about your father?” Mero asks the Texan, blue-eyed boy


    staring at Mero in open amusement. Light brown hair floppy as it falls partially into his face. He is


    wearing an Armani suit, and while most boys look at these guys in awe and fear, Dexter Kent seems at


    got him instead, I knew this was not a surprise, but a nned urrence on his part.


    “It depends on who is asking,” He says in a still very young voice.


    “How old are you?” I ask him.


    “Eleven.” The 5 of usugh at his confession.


    “You are tall for such a young boy, your father must be a big man.” Michel voices what I am sure we are


    all thinking, he is the same height as Michel and Mero, and his face is mature. I would have thought he


    was 13 or 14, but he is younger than all of us.


    “Tell me what you know about my sister.” I get down to the reason we are in the Yogi bar and the


    purpose of why Ren and Gabriel’s soldiers have closed the ce for us.


    Dexter smiles, revealing the promise of his charm as the smile directs itself to me.


    “Well, for starters, Miss Capello, did you know that your mother was a very active member of the Bratva


    even after she married your father?”


    The silence amongst the 5 of us bes thick with tension as he continues,


    “Your mother chose to remain a member of her family after your sister was taken into the fold, but then


    your sister disappeared. I tried to get a name, but I couldn’t. It’s like she vanished. But, I asked around,


    and it seems like your father wasn’t as forting about his trips on business as he led many to


    believe.” His face scrunches up in a way that, at another time, I would have thought cuteing from a


    boy as charming as him, but now it just makes my gut clench as I frown, my heart beating faster.


    I almost jerk when a warm hand curls around my own, Ren. I curl my fingers in between his,


    understanding the meaning as Mero, who is on the other side of me, puts his hand on my shoulder.


    Dexter Kent sees it, and a look akin to respect infiltrates his features. They are there for me, my


    people, we are the same.


    “Tell me.” Two words were spoken.


    I didn’t know as I said those words how they would link us together, and the implications it will have on


    all 6 of us.


    That day on a hot summer’s afternoon in a Yogi bar, as Mero, Ren, Michel, Gabriel, and I sat across a


    Texan boy named Dexter Kent as he told us things about my father, our fate was sealed. Our


    allegiance to each other made by the sins of my father and our alliance with Dexter Kent now


    something that would one day have us picking sides in a war we will all y our part in.


    We left Yogi Bar that afternoon, with Dexter Kent, our new friend, and went to Nicko’s Pizzeria, our


    silent pact made.


    And one day would be sealed not just in secrets, but in blood too.


    I should have known as I looked at the pimpled face, Ren, as he ced his arm over my shoulder,


    Because goodness and happiness never existed long enough in our world to make a name for it.


    Lorenzo Catelli was so much more than that. I knew Gabriel, Mero, and Michel were already tainted


    like me, but not Lorenzo. For some reason, his family kept him 13 going on 14. Even Dexter Kent, as


    he ate his pizza, had darker secrets than Ren. I knew this because how did an 11-year-old boy know


    so much about my family? My father was not an easy man to find much less get that kind of information


    about. My father was a monster wrapped in a costly suit and a fancy job that made him not only elusive


    but disguised as a savior.