Chapter 51 (Marco)


    "Marco. I wasn''t expecting you so soon. You couldn''t wait ''tillter?" I kiss my sister on her cheek.


    Grinning as I stand in the foyer of the white Victorian-style home. It''s a suburban housewife dream. And


    a sick joke of my sisters.


    Anya picked it out because it was identical to most of the homes secured behind this gatedmunity.


    "I know you weren''t going. I was shocked; you even made an appearance at the funeral. Did you


    manage to shed a tear or two?"


    "Very funny, I loved Ren, in my own way." I ignore her ring gaze, but I can''t ignore the bright yellow


    dress she is wearing.


    "We all did," I correct her, "What the fuck are you wearing?"


    "What the fuck are you doing at my house?" She questions me back, already knowing the answer.


    I roll my eyes, "I''m not going to the reception, where''s Mischa?"


    Anya''s eyes remind me of my father when her face gets pinched, but the rest is just like my mother.


    I''m the only one of us that got my mother''s eyes.


    "Looking for a yellow dress, we were going to y dollhouse." She answers with a sneer.


    I smile but say nothing when her eyes arch as if to say ''Comment, and I will p you,''


    "Is Deno going to do your duties again?"


    Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDra/ma.O(r)g!


    "Yes, Leonardo and Deno would be just fine on their own."


    "Leonardo will be drunk before he even gets to the house, and dad will keep a wide birth as usual.


    Deno will probably spend his time warding off wandering hands. Yeah, I think you right." Her sarcasm is


    warranted but still not wanted.


    "Papa." A small voicees from upstairs, and I step inside, my smile wide. Finally.


    My sister rolls her eyes and gives me some way as I hear those little feet hit the staircase.


    "Wow, you get bigger every day," I say as she runs and hugs my waist.


    I lift her up, as a whiff of her watermelon scented ck hair envelops my senses. Big ck marble


    eyes and cute dimples smile at me.


    "Papa." She ces her small hands on my cheeks and gives me a wet kiss.


    My heart squeezes with so much love for her, it physically pains. She looks so much like her mother.


    No one can question our rtion with her ck eyes, the one thing she has of mine.


    "Aunt Anya and I make ice-cream."


    Her big eyes and pale skin remind me of her mother. Her toothless smile is so innocent, carefree.


    How could someone want to hurt her?


    How can I allow anyone to harm her?


    How do I not protect her? My sweet Mischa.


    From the first day I walked into that hospital with Deno and lifted her up, she became mine.


    Deno and I swore an oath to protect her, no matter the cost.


    "Made ice-cream Mischa. You want to do something with Papa?" Anya asks as Mischa rests her cheek


    on my shoulder.


    Her head lifts up, and her face transforms into a toothless smile, "Movies, toy shop, and ice-cream,


    chippies, pic and, and ice-cream." Her face scrunches up as she thinks of what else.


    I pinch her small nose.


    "You can decide on your way, go put your shoes on and bring a jacket; maybe we can do ice-cream


    first." I put her down and watch her rush up the stairs. Her legs are so long.


    She got little calves now.


    Kids grow up so fast. I don''t like her staying here, but Anya is the only one besides Deno and myself


    who could keep her safe and happy at the same time.


    Mischa isn''t an easy kid, and I like it that way. I raised her to be shy and not talk to strangers. I, rather,


    she turns out to be a stuck-up princess and safe than a dead one.


    "Any word about La?"


    "No, Amariya is hunting them down. She''ll find him eventually." I don''t mention anything about her


    ''extramural'' activities, or the fact Amariya is missing again.


    My sister is a Catelli too, dangerous and deadly, I have done well to remember that growing up. I know


    she''s up to something, and I''m going to find out what it is before I react.


    "Gabriel came by earlier to see Mischa. He isn''t taking Lorenzo''s death well. You need to keep your


    eye on him, he is our family." My sister, ever the wise one.


    My father has one soft spot, and it belonged to his only daughter. My virgin, 26- year-old sister, never


    married, but piss her off, and she''ll kill you with a nail file in seconds.


    She lives her life as she wants to, in the shadows.


    There was once a guy I thought she''ll choose until she met another. Tragedy always ends a fairytale


    when a Viin is a leading role.


    "Lorenzo''s death is going to cause ripples in the Famiglia until we find out who wanted him dead," I


    warn Anya.


    "If my suspicions are correct, I believe Ren''s biker girlfriend would know the answer to that."


    "Leave her alone, Anya. She''s under my protection."


    "I suppose someone is going to be getting married in the next few months now," She says, ignoring my


    warning.


    "Probably." I hope for my sister''s sake it isn''t her.


    "Salvatore Moretti ising from New York as we speak. He is going to keep close tabs on the young


    ones; they all want revenge." You included little sister, but I know you will find your way to get it.


    Her face is nk, which is not something unusual when ites to Anya.


    "I''ll see you when you get back. You can stay for Dinner. I''ll call Deno and Leonardo, see if they want to


    join. Xander will be stopping by."


    "Sound''s like a n. I''ll fetch Mischa this weekend, you shoulde with us to the Manor."


    "Of course, I''ming. I think I''m getting suburban lice. How far do you live from Aliyana''s house?"


    "20 minutes, why?"


    "She invited me over for a few days, I said yes." This is new to me, Aliyana didn''t mention anything, but


    why would she?


    "She keeps wolves for pets," I tell my sister as I kiss her cheeks.


    "I know." She winks, and as I usually do in my sister''spany, Iugh.