Chapter 41

My father is not a good man, it is hard to even picture it. But my father is a powerful man and I know without a speck of doubt that for all his lessons past upon me that tainted me, made me, corrupted me, he will turn this world upside down if anyone does me harm. Yet, even knowing all of this as I stand here in a garden of a mother I will never meet, happiness remains a missing piece of me. The cool breeze whispers over my face and I close my eyes and breathe in the deeply scented air. Alone again So much beauty, so pure and soft, calming. So many happy memories lay here, but not one pure soul has ever touched upon its beauty. No innocent child has blessed this garden, as they ran along these rose bushes laughing with that rich loud giggle as her mother chases behind her. No, even as children we are born with blood on our hands. Cursed. I inhale, chest expanding, enjoying this peaceful place I call mine. The wind touches me, my senses alert, awoken to enjoy all the goodness it can get. I am starved for this. Feeling. 'What happened Yesterday, you didn't show up with your sister." I gasp, heart racing, ears absorbing his words, my brain shocking itself on alert. No, not now, please just leave. 'Don't fucking ignore me Aliyana, where the fuck were you?" Marco's voice is loud, accusing. I know that tone, not from him, but I know that tone. He is in a mood. I keep my back to him. His shoes hitting the ground with every step. I recall our evening in the greenhouse, where I heard only one step before he was behind me. Now I hear every step as it walks from Pebbled flooring to grass and back to the stones. His steps loud, not stopping until he is right behind me. He is surrounding me, his body, presence. The mad man who is made. 'You invading my personal space," I snipe, angry that he is so close to me, searching me out, 6 months after he kissed me. Yet, it feels like he still has a claim on me. He is standing here, his body heat, his aura, his surroundings, my surroundings now one. This makes me angry. 'Don't give me that fucking bullshit. Where the fuck were you Aliyana?" Who the fuck does he think he is? He has no right to ask me questions. I shrug, 'I have been standing here, in the garden for the last ten minutes." I finish as his angry snarly face looks down at me, blocking the suns rays with his broad shoulders. Shoulders I have imagined naked, wondered how the flesh of it will feel under my fingers. Shoulders that were supposed to be mine to touch. Camilla Moretti doesn't have to wonder. That thought has my impassive face, twitching in what I know looks like a fuck you look. 'Don't push me little girl, answer the question." His voice is clipped, but I know he won't hurt me. Not here at least. I want to tell him I wasn't a little girl when he had his hands on my body, his tongue in my mouth. But my words tend to die. Why fuel an already burning flame? 'I had plans." Meetings to tend to. The heat from his body is felt on the naked flesh of my arms as he stands way too close. His cologne intoxicating. My distressed paint covered denim shorts and loose vest isn't the best choice of clothes. But then, I didn't really care what I was putting on earlier. I am not the betrothed. 'Don't fuck around with me Aliyana, Deno phoned you. You just didn't give a fuck to answer. I needed you here." He is so close. Too close. 'And what you need is so important? What about what I need? I am glad I didn't pick up the phone, I am even happier that you are engaged to Camilla. I will thank her when I see her, she saved me from being subjected to your pathetic company," I snap and march toward the other part of the garden. Right now, I wish he would be anywhere else besides here, with me. His fingers grip my forearm and he pulls me toward him. Air leaves my lungs and my knees lock as his arm wraps around my centre. It's a possessive move. The way my back is plastered to him is a sign of ownership. He proposed to her, not you Aliyana. 'Let. Me. Go," I bite out as I struggle. My short legs and body are no match for his. I hate it. 'I hate you fucking asshole, cunt, motherfucking liar as…" Marco nips my ear, hard and I instantly freeze as the air from his breath keeps me in a standstill. Am I dreaming? Did he just... 'Did you just bite me?" I say it in a whisper, half-shocked, half unbelieving. 'Yes and I will do it again, if you ever fucking talk to me like that. Do you understand?" He clips out and I want to do him bodily harm but he must sense my intentions because his arms tighten around my torso. 'It's a moot point, I don't want to see you ever again." He chuckles, 'Too bad we don't get what we want." 'Let. Me Go," I snap again. 'No, you fucked up yesterday. I wanted to talk to you, and explain shit. You didn't even fuckin' look at me. Deno called you so we can talk in private. But you didn't give a fuck." 'I was busy, now let me go." He places a warm hot closed mouth kiss on my neck. 'I am not one of your fuck boys." 'You are right, you are an asshole," I say it with as much loath as I can muster up, making sure I pronounce the words properly. I am not one to lose my temper but when I do, I make sure I go all out. 'It is time we spoke about the future and you understand your part in it." 'Like what? How I am going to kick your ass? Or the fact where my part in my future has jack to do with you?" 'I don't remember your mouth so big! What happened to the scared little cub on the roof top?" 'Must be the old age kicking in. I hear dementia runs in your bloodline; you should get yourself checked out." 'Be careful Mezzosangue," He whispers and I shudder in mock terror as his breath tickles my ear. 'I have nothing to say to you Marco Catelli." My words are soft, bitter and even I don't believe them. He lets me go and I turn to face him, partially in shock that I was seconds ago in his arms and that kiss. He must see my confusion because his black eyes are looking at me right now as though he has only realized I am standing in front of him. Why now. He is engaged, now he wants to talk. 'What do you want from me?" The question is as doubtful and full of everything I want to say but don't as I stare at his chiselled face. His jaw is square, with a shadow of hair dusting his slight sunken cheeks. His mouth, tightened in a firm way. Hard. Not luscious and soft. I know the punishing kiss it gives because I have experienced it. His eyebrows are thick and give him a sinister look when he arches the one. 'What happened yesterday?" His voice is low as it was when he whispered in my ear a few moments ago. So easy it is for him to change his emotions. 'Ren said that yesterdays were meant to be thought of months after we lived todays. I always told him it didn't make sense. He insisted it did. I finally get it. What happened yesterday isn't important." 'He never talked about Chicago much. But you, he loved you. He told me about his days in this very garden. The hours you spent here with him while you painted and he talked knowing you only heard half of what he said. You were his missing piece." I smile, my body not calming even at a fond memory of a friend who didn't deserve the end he got. My best friend, partner, teacher and my calmness. 'Why would you think that? All he ever loved and saw was Diamond. He was my brother in all sense of the word apart from blood, but love, no, he didn't love me." 'He did," Marco says with such conviction that if I were someone else I would have believed the lie. 'Do you know when I was in Chicago and he joined me on the roof top, he took one look at me and said, I am going to call you Yana. It was coincidence that my name is Aliyana. Ren was family, but family isn't always loved, he said that to me once." Marco moves to stand next to me, hands in his slacks, just like before, only now we are standing so close, but that wall that separates us is impenetrable. 'Yana Banana." He breaks the silent sound with familiar words. I tug my lips, yana banana 'Hah, it has been a while since anyone called me that." 'Ren died loving Diamond, but he loved you too. He said his Yana was more special to him than the days of his life all wrapped in one." Marco's words hits me in the chest, and I turn my head to look at his tall form. He is surreal, the length of him, that face with those black eyes that burn so hot, sometimes I think about it and swear I could taste the fire in my mouth, smell the burn around my soul. His rich scent, wraps around me as a breeze blows by, and my throat clogs knowing that this moment, is fleeting. Knowing he is not mine. 'Do you think Ren is in heaven?" I ask him. My gaze focused on his harsh face as the flesh under his left eye twitches. He remains next to me, looking into the garden as if it could talk. 'When he looked at you, he could see a glimpse of heaven." His head turns to me, my face lifted to his, as his stares down at me. I wish I knew what was going through his head. 'He must've been drunk." Marco chuckles, 'He was pissed. We all were." His voice is a melody to a sad song, as his eyes, a picture to a lost one. I remain staring as he looks away, his attention on the rose bushes. We stand in silence, both lost to our own thoughts. The air is thick, a lot left unsaid. Feelings still linger between us, not fully formed to give it a name, but intense enough that neither of us choose to leave this, here, now. 'Is my sister going to be okay living with your brother?" It is a natural question, and the only thing I can think of to ask at this moment, when the light burns my flesh as the man standing next to me burns me from the inside. He sighs. 'Is that a no?" 'Your sister could have done worse." 'That isn't an answer." 'It's the only you're getting." My sister's marriage to Leonardo will placate his father. Put a lot of our people at ease. 'Papa will never allow another marriage between a Catelli and Capello." Of that I am certain. 'It is what it is," He whispers. A tear slides down my eye. This is happening. My sister and Camilla are true Italians and I am a half-blood, not worthy of marrying a Catelli. I can't give him an heir. Is it a coincidence that the wind blows, freezing my tear as my heart beat mirrors the exact same chill? 'He won't remain faithful, but he will never hurt your sister physically." 'Thank you," I say to him nodding, because what else can I say. I was born into this life. The day my parents gave me life, this life and the struggles I would face became set in stone. The path I choose from here on, would still lead me to the same ending, Death. 'A woman as beautiful as you never need thank a man. I'll see you around Mezzosangue." He turns away from me, but it feels like more. Final. 'Why her?" I blurt the words, watching his back stiffen, I can't take the words back, and I don't want to. I want him to tell me. 'I need to know Marco, why her? You owe me that." 'It is what it is Aliyana." 'Am I not Italian enough?" 'I have never lied to you, Aliyana, don't make me start now." 'I never asked you for lies."