Capo Dei Capi (Secrets of the Famiglia Part 1)

Chapter 59 (Aliyana)

Luckily Papa didn’t hold grudges for very long and he dropped the subject after he made it crystal clear

that under no circumstances was, I allowed to ‘disappear’ with ‘Fuckin’ Deno fuckin’ Catelli’ again.

Filippo been my father’s successor heard all of this. He was also not pleased, when he came to my

room and asked me point blank, if something was going on between ‘Catelli’ and I.

I cringed because something did happen with ‘Catelli’ and I, but the Catelli was not the one he was

talking about and I was in no mood to learn what happened to the daughter of a Made-Man who stuck

her tongue down another Made-Man's throat.

SO, I smiled at my brother, after cringing and said, it was nice to have Deno around after Ren. Filippo’s

face softened and I felt terrible but I told myself that what I said was true, and it was a better reason

than the alternative.

Obviously, I didn’t get away scot free. Papa has refused any late nights for me completely, and with

Matteo ‘freaking’ Russo around it hasn’t been easy to sneak off. Not impossible, but I had to be smart.

The last thing I need is Papa thinking I’m running around with Deno behind his back.

I explained this to Deno yesterday when he called me informing me that I was now the owner of the

home, and invited me to Azure for a drink. He laughed over our hour conversation and thought it was

hilarious that my father thought I was possibly sneaking around with him, when I in fact snuck around

with Marco.

He knew my father loathed his family, well almost all of them. Apparently Deno let slip that Marco, his

father and him were the only ones my father didn’t like and it was for good reason.

He also let slip when I explained to him that I was not allowed late nights at all, that he told Marco

about what happened and Marco thought it was just as funny. I didn’t say anything to that and he must

have sensed the end of our conversation because he ended the call soon after that. It was the last time

I heard from Deno.

My feelings for Marco Catelli hit me like a heat wave since that kiss in front of the dorms and grew

every day since, but my hurt at his rejection after has been killing me. It killed me more because he

was around, but not around the way I wanted him to be.

Our kiss that last day was deemed nothing more than just that to him. He is everywhere but nowhere at

the same time. I know, even as I look at my sister that I need to let him go.

My sister has still not gotten engaged as yet. But Papa sent for her yesterday which meant he had

news. I could tell she wanted to get married, Ilaria was not making my sister’s life any easier and Guilia

looked like she was going to explode soon.

She did not stay away from Marco when he came by yesterday hoping that his meeting with Papa

meant he wanted to marry her. But that was not the case, even as naïve as I was to believe he wanted

me, knew that while he entertained Guilia yesterday, he has eyes for a certain brunette head, brown

eyed Moretti. A true Italian goddess.

Camilla Moretti showed up a day after Ren’s funeral. My sister told me that Marco and her had history.

They grew up together until her parents died. I wasn’t someone who gossiped but even I was intrigued

by the story.

Her arrival came at an impromptu time. It hurt me when I found out that he was dating her from a

Gossip column my sister put on my phone. It gutted me when I had to look at a picture with the two of

them gazing into each other’s eyes and admit that he was never meant to be mine. He was hers.

Until a few months ago, I waited for the chance to see him from afar. A part of me hoped he would look

at me and realize what he was missing out on. But one Friday I didn’t see him walk into our home.

I was standing by the front door with my back to it. Still wearing my pj’s which were a loose white vest

and sleep shorts with lord of the rings written on the ass, compliments of my friend, Diane who was a

kickass wedding planner and one of the few ‘Normal’ friends Papa actually liked.

My hair was piled up onto the top of my head with a paintbrush holding it up and my feet were bare and

a bit dirty from lounging at the pool while I waited for my Painting to dry so I can do touch ups. It was

just after 2 in the afternoon.

Papa had called me and asked if I could open the door for his ‘Guest’. I decided to do it on my own,

rather than call one of our house ladies. I was not lazy and I thought this guest could be Filippo or

Guilia. This was not the case.

When I opened the door, and looked up it was none other than Marco fucking Catelli. He was looking

delicious and I wanted him to be there to whisk me away and do dirty things to me that I saw Lucifer do

to Eve on Netflix the night before.

But instead of greeting me and doing those things, he stood there staring at me. His gaze dropping to

study my entire body, from my dirty size 6 feet, to my bare legs and knees that must have been

shaking, to the vest that belonged to my brother until I swiped it, and my bra less pointy breast which I

was certain dimmed compared to his lovely Camilla.

Which was the reason as to why I watched him, silently fuming and cursing the day he was born as I Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

gave him the death glare to end all death glares in my mind. Obviously, in reality I didn’t have the

courage to lose my shit with him, and secretly I was hoping he would say something. Anything.

He didn’t.

He tightened his jaw, grabbed a hold of my hips, completely not caring about ‘boundaries’ and moved

me out of the way. I did glare at him then and he arched his brow as to say ‘What are you going to do

about it?’

Papa came in then, and I rushed away after he informed me that I had paint all over my cheek.

Since then I ducked when Marco was near, and I avoided him like he was infected with the coronavirus.

I still saw him from my window, or the security room which was packed with surveillance cameras. So

maybe I was exaggerating a bit about him avoiding me, okay well maybe a lot. But he knew I was

around, he could have come to find me. He didn’t.