Chapter 27 (Marco)
Chapter 27 (Marco)
“The Air,” I say as the memory of that morning with Ren flashes in my head.
“Her name is Dakota Larken now. He should get more with that. Are you ready for tonight?” Deno
questions.
“They are, so we'll have to be. I’ll get our hacker on this stuff before we go. If there is something to be
found linking Ren’s death to his girlfriend, we need to know. Ren could be the first target. I learned a
long time ago the lengths people are willing to go for a brainy little girl.”
“Yes, the same brainy little girl. We can’t deny it no longer. Anya is digging. Our sister will open a can of
deadly worms if she continues to do so. A new name doesn’t make someone different.”
“No, it does not, but it gives her a fighting chance. As for Anya, she will do no such thing. Our sister will
be dealt with swiftly. She needs a little yanking. We made a pact to protect that girl and her sister,” I tell
my brother.
His jaw ticks as his hard glare simmers through me, “We made a pact to protect our brother too.”
“Yes, but the difference is, Ren chose her a long time ago. He chose her knowing the consequences,
you warned him, I warned him. Fuck, we even tried to force the issue.”
“What about us? We were warned, yet here we are having this conversation. What choice do we get,
brother?”
I stare at Deno, seeing the mask of my brother falling with every tick of the clock as he stares at me,
waiting for me to answer him, even knowing the answer I give him will not be the one he wants.
“We don't get those luxuries.”
He swallows, and I watch his jaw tick as he breaks our eye contact, facing the door,
“Then I guess we better get to that fucking meeting, shall we?”
“You can leave without me, I have a few things needing my attention. I’ll meet you there.”
“Sicuramente Capo.” Certainly Boss
"You know brother, Ren loved Diamond, and he believed she deserved our protection. With his death,
there are only 4 of us left who knows who she really is. And 1 of them happens to be her sister, who Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
hasn’t shown herself for a few years. Do you remember the girl who stole your heart? Or have you
forgotten?”
His back stiffens, shoulders square, as he stands by the door for a beat of a second before marching
out.
I drop my shoulder, bend my head, and allow the weight of everything placed on my soul to weigh me
down physically as well as emotionally. My hands lift to cradle my face as my elbows balance the
weight of the position, digging into the table.
My brother died almost 48 hours ago, in my city, while I danced with the very girl he begged me to stay
away from. He always knew Aliyana’s part in my plan, yet, even knowing it all, he chose her freedom
over the safety of our own blood. Always his Yana.
On the night he was gunned down, I was doing exactly what he didn’t want. The truth which weakens
me at this moment is knowing all of this, I would do it again. I would choose her lips on my own, her
body in my hands.
I am a sick man that never claimed to be anything sane because I wasn’t in the business of lying to
myself. Aliyana is a young 19-year-old girl, and maybe she knows how to pull a trigger, but she's
innocent when it comes to matters of desire and sex. A sane man would stay away from the
Mezzosangue.
Yet, the 15-years difference between us doesn't faze me. Then again, I live in a world where men marry
a woman regardless of her age. My own father married his wife, 20-years his junior. Aliyana’s father
wasn’t far off that mark with Ilaria either.
Sartini, I forgot about him today.
I rise from my weak position and walk toward the window, the lights of my city basking under the night
sky. It glimmers, as I watch a few lights going off on the building not too far from the one I currently
stand-in.
Power is an essential tool in our world, and unlike money that can be taken, power is something that
has to be earned by blood, intelligence, and sheer will. To survive in the 5th State, your armor needs to
be impenetrable. Sartini Capello has made his armor in Lava. Nobody, not even the Capo Dei Capi
would stand against him without careful thought.
His one weakness has always been the image of his wife, his precious daughter, Aliyana. My father
believed Sartini's love for his wife was the sole reason for that kind of loyalty and love for his daughter.
Aliyana is convinced that her father loves her for that very reason, even knowing what she knew about
her parents. Call it denial, or maybe survival, but she knew deep down there was more to his love for
her than the flesh she was born with.
His love for his daughter stems from more than his wife's face.
It's far more profound than the flesh. No, Sartini Capello loves his daughter because of the promise of
power she will one day soak in. He loves her because he is afraid that if he doesn’t, one day, she'll find
his armor lacking and strike.
What he doesn’t know is the secrets he hopes to keep from his precious daughter is the very thing that
will keep him alive.
Could he have killed my brother? It would be a pity to spill my maybe future wife's fathers' blood before
the nuptials.
Did he suspect Aliyana and Lorenzo to be more than friends? No, if there was one of the boys anybody
suspected, it would be Gabriel.
I watch the cars drive, the people walk the streets laughing. None of them aware that their youngest
Prince has fallen, and the bloodshed soon to follow would cause ripples in their innocent dull lives.
There was a time in my life where I would have cried in the face of loss, but as I stand here, my gaze
looming over my city, the emotions I feel are not sorrow, but determination.
Whoever killed my brother would meet a fate worse than the quick death they gave him. Of that, I am
certain.
They will pay with not just their lives but all of those linked to them. I would not rest until he is avenged,
and then I will live with the guilt of his shadow looming over me when the day came, and I had no
choice but to marry Aliyana Capello. And I know that day will come, where she will know me as the
demon, which is her husband.
Unlike my siblings, I could sleep knowing my sins were never meant to be for the good of anybody, not
even the person I am doing it all for.