Chapter 10

Aliyana 'Aliyana, come on." My stepmother screams from the bottom of the staircase. My brothers and sisters are standing next to her waiting for me. Papa left an hour ago to tend some business before the function started. I barely got a few minutes with him. 'Don't tell me the bitch is ranting again," Mero (Romero) grunts from the other end of my earpiece. 'I don't need to, she is loud enough that you can hear it yourself." 'When you're done with Kylie and Diamond, meet us outback. Ren needs all of us." 'Gabriel is busy tonight," I remind him. 'Aliyana, get your ass down," Filippo screams as I roll my eyes. 'They are so impatient. Gabriel will catch up, I'll see you soon, I need to detour for a quick stop then I'm there," Mero informs me. Something was not right, I didn't share this with Mero, but Papa was agitated today when he got home. Something was making him restless. I didn't need anyone to tell me that shit was stirring in Seattle. I had a feeling by the end of tonight Mero, Ren, Gabriel, Michel and I were going to jump right into the middle of it all. My brother gives me his ‘older brother' death glare as I begin to run down the staircase only after I see them all standing by the bottom. 'Coming," I tell my family. I rush down the stairs as my sister's giggle when they see the still open bottle green dress barely covering my ass as I slip on my peep-toe green heels I left by the bottom of the staircase. 'I'll be there. Drive reckless." Mero laughs at my words, cutting the call. Guilia zips me up as I wiggle my left foot into the 6-inch heel. She neatens my curled hair while my stepmother complains, 'You didn't do anything with your hair after Marissa left. She told you to cover it, now it is full of paint." 'She has beautiful hair, the paint adds character," Guilia points out in my defense. 'And no make-up?" Ilaria continues with her rant ignoring Guilia. 'You have paint on your cheek Liya," Elia notices as his brown keen gaze smiles shyly at me. 'You look very handsome, is that tailored?" I ask him as Guilia pulls the stitch of my dress to the side of my body. 'It's an original, Filippo, and Papa took me." His dimpled cheeks flush a dark pink. Elia is the shy, timid twin. The complete opposite of his twin Serena who is glaring at us in her blue and gold dress. 'Papa and Filippo should definitely take style tips from you." I wink at him as Filippo messes up Elia's gelled light brown hair. Elia loves fashion, and he has a skill with a sketch pad when it comes to suits. 'Don't encourage him. He's already getting bullied at school without you adding to it," Ilaria snaps. My hand itches to punch that twitching glare right off her fake face. My brother, Filippo, checks himself before he goes Zap-Zap and kills my father's wife. Which is what I want to believe is the reason he shuts up and glares at the big-nosed wench. Why would Papa marry such an awful bitch? 'Don't look at me like that, you're the one who is late." 'I never asked you to wait for me." 'No, you didn't, lucky I don't take orders from you then," She snipes as her long nose crinkles. Ilaria is beautiful. That is something I can't deny, but her ways have twisted all the beauty on the inside and replaced it with something nasty that no amount of pretty flesh can disguise. I remain silent, she is right, and her anger is partially warranted. Honestly, I did get a bit lost off track. While everyone in the household was getting dressed, I got stuck in colors. It wasn't something out of the ordinary. My loss of time is the norm. Painting is something you can't just leave and go back to. Once inspiration sucks you in, I find it best to purge it to where it wants to go. Today it was my canvas. Once I start something, my mind rides me hard to finish it. Which is why Papa did not take me to functions that weren't compulsory. Most of the time, he sent his wife and Guilia. When people asked for me, they simply said the invite wasn't unlimited. Code for ‘mind your own fucking business.' Guilia walked into my room an hour before we were due to leave. She lost her shit upon seeing the state of my room and my messy clothes. To say she started rushing me for time is putting it mildly. But all her yelling and pestering flew out the window when I got a call first from Ren, then Mero. Ren sounded disturbed, which had me worrying about him. He wasn't the happy Ren, who left Azure with promises of a goodnight. No, the Ren on the phone was the Ren who at 15, put a gun to my science teacher's head when Mr. Rajan offered me a higher grade if I'll let him ‘touch' my ass. Mr. Rajan vanished two days after. Mero called soon after Ren and stole what time I had remaining to get ready. Mero was the chatty one in our group. He'd hold me in a conversation that flowed so smoothly from the time he said hello. I was always left stunned at how many hours the two of us spoke every day. Ren preferred text and always about something relevant, but today was something else. Michel was the ‘I'll call you if it's important or when we going to meet up?' kind of guy. Gabriel was a show-up, and let's talk face to face. He knew where I was, and if he did text, it was usually to tell me to open the gate or hurry up. Mero was the glue that kept us attached when we would have got caught up in life. He called all of us, every single day. He'd talk more to me than the guys, but he'd meet Gabriel at least once a day if they weren't spending the day together already. With me, it was a call whenever he had something to tell me, which was every single day or the others wanted to meet. Today was no different. The timing HOWEVER sucked. Not only did I miss the alarm clock I'd set to remind me to get ready, but after my sister took it upon herself to play the whining mother, I still managed to be 30 minutes late. Well, maybe 40 minutes, or an hour. My stepmother knew that I wouldn't be ready by 6 like she knew I'd forget to put make-up and tie my hair. The paint on my cheek wasn't anything new, either. When I was growing up, I wanted to have a hobby. Papa suggested painting, and after that, it stuck. I was good at it, so Papa sent me for professional classes, and before I knew it, I was painting pictures that most people thought were taken from a camera. Painting is the one hobby I enjoy doing. My pass time when I am not with my friends. I suck at sports, so art became my sport. But on days like these, it consumed me. I hate pretending and acting like I care how big your bank balance is or how much your shoes cost.