Capo Dei Capi (Secrets of the Famiglia Part 1) novel Chapter 51

"Marco. I wasn't expecting you so soon. You couldn't wait 'till later?" I kiss my sister on her cheek. Grinning as I stand in the foyer of the white Victorian-style home. It's a suburban housewife dream. And a sick joke of my sisters.

Anya picked it out because it was identical to most of the homes secured behind this gated community.

"I know you weren't going. I was shocked; you even made an appearance at the funeral. Did you manage to shed a tear or two?"

"Very funny, I loved Ren, in my own way." I ignore her glaring gaze, but I can't ignore the bright yellow dress she is wearing.

"We all did," I correct her, "What the fuck are you wearing?"

"What the fuck are you doing at my house?" She questions me back, already knowing the answer.

I roll my eyes, "I'm not going to the reception, where's Mischa?"

Anya's eyes remind me of my father when her face gets pinched, but the rest is just like my mother.

I'm the only one of us that got my mother's eyes.

"Looking for a yellow dress, we were going to play dollhouse." She answers with a sneer.

I smile but say nothing when her eyes arch as if to say 'Comment, and I will slap you,'

"Is Deno going to do your duties again?"

"Yes, Leonardo and Deno would be just fine on their own."

"Leonardo will be drunk before he even gets to the house, and dad will keep a wide birth as usual. Deno will probably spend his time warding off wandering hands. Yeah, I think you right." Her sarcasm is warranted but still not wanted.

"Papa." A small voice comes from upstairs, and I step inside, my smile wide. Finally.

My sister rolls her eyes and gives me some way as I hear those little feet hit the staircase.

"Wow, you get bigger every day," I say as she runs and hugs my waist.

I lift her up, as a whiff of her watermelon scented black hair envelops my senses. Big black marble eyes and cute dimples smile at me.

"Papa." She places her small hands on my cheeks and gives me a wet kiss.

My heart squeezes with so much love for her, it physically pains. She looks so much like her mother. No one can question our relation with her black eyes, the one thing she has of mine.

"Aunt Anya and I make ice-cream."

Her big eyes and pale skin remind me of her mother. Her toothless smile is so innocent, carefree.

How could someone want to hurt her?

How can I allow anyone to harm her?

How do I not protect her? My sweet Mischa.

From the first day I walked into that hospital with Deno and lifted her up, she became mine.

Deno and I swore an oath to protect her, no matter the cost.