Chapter 7

"I have, which brother will she be married off to?" Her question wears a double meaning and does its trick to poke, and like the good husband I intend to be one day I budge. Getting up from my space I close the gap to the brown-haired beauty with a tall frame and tits I feasted on as often as I could. "If you must know," I say as my hand wraps around her waist and her smile changes from dashing to flirty. "Yes?" I watch her face, her cheeks, her mouth and just when I have her, I grab her hair and pull her head back, until she gasps. "She can marry whoever she chooses, all she needs to do is say who." I let Camilla go and step back. She rights herself looking unaffected, "That can't be true, even I, with all my men, didn't get to choose who I marry." "Are you complaining?" I query as I straighten my pants, keeping my attention drawn to Camilla. "No, but..." "But nothing, Aliyana's business is not something that is up for discussion. She is a guest not an enemy." "I know but..." "Enough, this weekend needs to be a success, there is a lot more at stake than your feelings." She stares at me for a long time but her instinct is to be submissive. With all Camilla's bravery and show of power she is an Italian woman who knows her place and chooses her battles. I admire that about her. She is strong but knows that I am a beastly monster and she is mine. "Mischa is sleeping. She's still to meet the others." Camilla leaves the library after conveying her message. The Ghosts warning comes to mind, and I have to take a few seconds to really question myself, if Camilla could be snitching on Aliyana? And if that was the case, to who? I head back to the desk and continue with my journal for the next hour, losing myself in my words. Writing everything is new to me, something I started 6 months ago. It is my coping mechanism. The one place I can truly be myself and let everything I'm feeling out. "Papa," I hear the crying voice of my daughter and the light sounds of her little feet as they run toward the library. How she always knows where to find me is a mystery. She runs straight into the room, and right toward me. Her hair is longer, and black, and her blue velvet dress is partially shoved into her pants. I turn my chair as she jumps straight into my arms and tucks her small head under my arm. Her finger goes straight to her pink lips and her rosy cheeks flush from her fear. Because that is what it is, fear of me not there when she woke. "She's getting too old for that babying shit. You need to teach her not to howl like a fucking crazy person," Leonardo grumbles as he stands by the door with his arms crossed. "At least we know you two are related. You were worse when you were this age." "Now you talking shit, I was the best behaved. Lorenzo, well, he had some lungs on him." The happy thought brings a smile to my face as I look at the girl who owns all my goodness. "I remember the two of you watching gummie bears when your mother was getting dinner ready and you started fighting over the remote and eventually you just let it go and Lorenzo got hit with it in the mouth." "He cried until he peed his pants." Leonardo starts laughing, "what was it that he said?" he clicks his fingers trying to remember. "My blood is leaving my body." I remind him and I am not sure if our thoughts are linked but blood did leave his body when someone shot him and left him to die. "Papa, who are all those people?" Mischa asks as she lifts herself up on my lap, digging her elbow into my rib. It is a small, simple question but the answer is weighted in a complex truth. "The one girl is Aunt Guilia's sister and the man is her brother." "Familia." She says and my heart melts with her pronunciation of our language. "Yes, they are, would you like to meet them?" I already know the answer but I still give her a choice. As my daughter Mischa will always have a choice. Her face brightens as she jumps off my lap and runs to Leonardo who opens his hand for her to hold. Mischa has always had our soft side, especially Leonardo. He would not be so patient if it was his own kid but his love for his own would be unfathomable. "I'll take her to meet the bunch, why don't you get the speed boat ready? We can take our new family for a ride? Maybe discuss some wedding arrangements with Gabriel and Aliyana." My brother doesn't wait for me to respond. I slip the journal back into its hiding place and head off in the opposite direction to get the boat ready.