Chapter 33

Aliyana 'Aliyana, your father has been calling you, where are your ears?" Ilaria yells from the glass door leading to the pool I'm currently floating in. The sun has not shied away since Ren's death. I still can't believe it's two weeks. It feels longer, but not so long that I've forgotten him, but long enough that I wake up thinking about seeing him, only to realize he isn't coming. 'I didn't hear him. I'll be in now." Ilaria doesn't say anything else, nor does she move. She has acted strange since the funeral, almost sorrowful. I received no snarky remarks from her, or bitching fits. But, like now, she stares at me. I find it strange, but also hopeful. Since my conversation with Marco, and what he said about her, I pity her in a way. How must she feel to be stuck with an entire brood of kids who aren't her own, or forced to sleep with a man who has nothing left to give her but a bank card and some empty sex. I sink into the water, and my body glides easily across the pool. The coldness welcome, as my lungs scream for release. There is peace in water. Taking my time, I get out of the pool and wave at my sister who is lying down, reading a book under the umbrella. The back yard is huge. This property was designed for my mother, and changed to keep my wolves happy underground and free on top. My father expanded the place years ago, when he bought the access land from our neighbors who didn't need so much space. The wolves were my touch. There was nothing friendly about them, they existed to keep me safe. Well, that is what I told my father. It is a lie. I kept them because they're vicious enough that If I needed to send a message then I would do so by putting my ‘message' with the wolves. I always wanted to say ‘feed him to the wolves.' The thought of one day having to put one of my friends in that den or my sister doesn't seem as appealing right now. If what Marco and Deno said is true, one of the boys who I call my family could very well become an enemy. The question is what kind of enemy would he become, one who I would destroy, or someone I would spend most of my life trying to ruin? It doesn't sit well with me! Why would one of the others want to kill Ren? 'ALIYANA!!! Make quick," Filippo yells from his balcony. I look up at him, wearing a cotton shirt and flower swim shorts. His glasses are covering his eyes. He looks like he is on holiday. I want to roll my eyes at his choice of attire. 'What does Papa want that I am getting nagged like this? If he's asking me to babysit, I'm not doing it." I looked after the twins 3-days in a row and they fought constantly. 'Why don't you hurry your ass up and go see?!" I roll my eyes and put my towel around my body securing it around my breast as I make my way into the house. More like storm inside. 'Arina, could you iron the top I put on my bed please?" Arina, our housemaid is my favorite out of the staff. She wasn't an Italian but her mother was married to one of my father's soldiers. 'Of course. You look like you need some aloe for your skin Miss Capello." I touch her arm, as I walk past, where she is currently sitting and knitting. I skip down the passage and around the corner, opening the kitchen door. I walk around the opposite side of the house leading to Papa's office. Normally, I went through the lounge and behind the staircase, but I have been trying to avoid that side since it had a picture of Ren and I. I knock on my father's door. The white door doesn't hint at what you'd find inside. No clue at all. Sometimes doors could be ignorant too. I shake my head at my stupid silent rambling of wayward thoughts. 'Come in." I look at my bare feet, red and blue beach towel wrapped around my body and long blonde hair wet around my shoulders. Puffing my chest, I straighten my back as I put my hand on the gold handle and twist. My father's head lifts from his laptop. His desk is full of paper work. A frame of his children and the one of my mothers sit on the far-left corner. A snow globe Guilia got for his birthday and a few other trinkets make up the top right side. A family man. I want to laugh at how stupid it all seems as I round his desk to kiss him on the cheek, 'Yes, Papa." I say to him with a small smile as that familiar scent of his surrounds me. 'How's the pool?" He asks, as he pulls off his glasses, 'I was hoping to enjoy the sun with you and Guilia but too much to do. Your sister tell you she racked up a bill at one of those boutiques owned by Marcello's daughter?" 'The pool was great. So, I heard, Guilia has been gripping about it since yesterday. You know she'll just get Filippo's credit card, right?" 'No, Filippo already told her no. I pity the man she marries; he'll be bankrupt by the first month." I snort as my father's burly laugh lights up my day. But I say nothing in response, because I know Filippo told my father one thing but always did what he wanted. And giving Guilia money was something he'll want to do to make her happy. The two had their own secrets, and I never made it a priority to find out what shaped them. In return they never made it there's to find out too much about me. I preferred it that way. 'I need to leave and get the twins settled. I wanted you to do something for me today," He asks. 'I'm not babysitting. Anything else, sure." 'It isn't babysitting. You shouldn't complain about spending time with your siblings." 'I'm not complaining, but they fight like they are sworn enemies." 'They get that from their mother." I frown at my father's comment, because we both knew that wasn't the truth. They fought because of my Papa's absence. He smiles, choosing to be oblivious to the look I am giving him. 'Before we talk about why I stripped you of your morning, I have a few minutes. Come sit down." I do as he says, knowing my ass is going to leave a butt imprint once I get up. I can already feel the wetness of the towel. And inside I am smiling knowing my father will not be impressed but it would make him smile and shake his head. 'How are you doing with everything since the funeral? I worry about you." 'I'm fine." Sort of. I thought about Ren often, but my thoughts weren't of the sweet kind! No, they were tainted by the things I would soon find out about his killer. 'Fine? You don't resemble my fine daughter. Where's the mischief, the raised brows? Something must be wrong." "Yes, Papa, there is a lot that's wrong. Ren is dead and we don't know who killed him. It's not easy but I am your daughter. So, I'm fine." My father laughs before his eyes dig deep into my soul. My father is perceptive like that. 'You should let Deno and Marco handle it." Easier said than done. Deno and Marco needed me to handle it. How did I tell my father that one of my friends could very well be the person that killed Ren. I couldn't. My father would make sure that I never saw them. And if my father dug deep enough, he'd know what we were up to and what led Ren to his death wasn't something he could just let slide. 'They are." With my help. I say nothing but his querying gaze says more than enough. He knows. 'You are so much like your mother." His eyes settle on the picture of her on his desk, and I watch his utter longing. A tug in my chest pulls me in when I think of Ilaria and how she must feel. I can't see myself with a man who loves his dead wife so much, there is no room for him to love me. But, I wonder, if he loved my mother so much why cheat? Why would this powerful man, who is my father betray his wife? The same wife he claimed to love even after he buried her. He senses my observation, he always does, and when he stares at me I sometimes, like now wonder, if he knows, I know his secrets. I'm aware of the faults which made his perfect love story not so perfect. Yet, I love my father and I will kill to protect him. I already have "There's been a problem at Azure. The guy who handles Deno's books is missing. He needs someone to do his financials and get it handed in." He was dead. I knew this as I knew that the guy who killed him was alive! He wasn't just alive but he was probably the real reason I'm sitting in this chair across from my father right now having this conversation. Marco I smile, but it is a tight smile the man sitting across from me knows all too well. "I'll sort it out." My father looks at me for 9 seconds. I know because I count it in my head. I wonder if he is seeing me or the shadow of who he wanted me to be. "Matteo will meet you outside! Go shower and I'll tell Matteo to take the Vantage." Not again. Matteo Di Salvo is a pain I couldn't get rid of. "Why can't Romero join?" I get up as I ask this, my towel loosening. "You've been spending a lot of time with him." "He's my friend papa." That was one of the reasons I wanted him to join. "I know but he is my soldier first. And you are my daughter, no?" I purse my lips but say nothing. My father can change his mood as fast as a shark can bite and spit you out. Only once have I been the center of his anger to the extent, he hit me. I learned after that to listen, ask a question and then shut up and accept his answer. "I'll let Deno know to expect you." I walk out of the office, my mind working per the second. What did Deno want? Or better yet Marco. We agreed to take our time figuring this stuff out.