Puffing my chest, I straighten my back as I put my hand on the gold handle and twist.
My father’s head lifts from his laptop. His desk is full of paperwork. A frame of his children and one of my mothers sit on the far-left corner. A snow globe Guilia got for his birthday and a few other trinkets make up the top right side. A family man.
I want to laugh at how stupid it all seems as I round his desk to kiss him on the cheek,
“Yes, Papa.” I say to him with a small smile as that familiar scent of his surrounds me.
“How’s the pool?” He asks, as he pulls off his glasses, “I was hoping to enjoy the sun with you and Guilia but too much to do. Your sister tell you she racked up a bill at one of those boutiques owned by Marcello’s daughter?”
“The pool was great. So, I heard, Guilia has been gripping about it since yesterday. You know she’ll just get Filippo’s credit card, right?”
“No, Filippo already told her no. I pity the man she marries; he’ll be bankrupt by the first month.” I snort as my father’s burly laugh lights up my day. But I say nothing in response, because I know Filippo told my father one thing but always did what he wanted. And giving Guilia money was something he’ll want to do to make her happy. The two had their own secrets, and I never made it a priority to find out what shaped them.
In return they never made it there’s to find out too much about me. I preferred it that way.
“I need to leave and get the twins settled. I wanted you to do something for me today,” He asks.
“I’m not babysitting. Anything else, sure.”
“It isn’t babysitting. You shouldn’t complain about spending time with your siblings.”
“I’m not complaining, but they fight like they are sworn enemies.”
“They get that from their mother.” I frown at my father’s comment, because we both knew that wasn’t the truth. They fought because of my Papa’s absence.
He smiles, choosing to be oblivious to the look I am giving him.
“Before we talk about why I stripped you of your morning, I have a few minutes. Come sit down.” I do as he says, knowing my ass is going to leave a butt imprint once I get up. I can already feel the wetness of the towel. And inside I am smiling knowing my father will not be impressed but it would make him smile and shake his head.
“How are you doing with everything since the funeral? I worry about you.”
“I’m fine.” Sort of. I thought about Ren often, but my thoughts weren’t of the sweet kind! No, they were tainted by the things I would soon find out about his killer.
“Fine? You don’t resemble my fine daughter. Where’s the mischief, the raised brows? Something must be wrong.”
"Yes, Papa, there is a lot that’s wrong. Ren is dead and we don’t know who killed him. It’s not easy but I am your daughter. So, I’m fine.” My father laughs before his eyes dig deep into my soul. My father is perceptive like that.
“You should let Deno and Marco handle it.” Easier said than done.
Deno and Marco needed me to handle it. How did I tell my father that one of my friends could very well be the person that killed Ren. I couldn’t.
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