Union Of Death (Secrets of The Famiglia Part 2)

The boot slams with a big thud as my sister’s mood enhance her ability to close things quietly.

I sit in the front of the Black vanquish OWNED by my brother.

Pushing the button to move the leather heated seat a bit forward, I slip my phone in my bag, ignoring Guilia and Filippo discussing her sudden blue mood. The reason is me. I knew that this morning when she arrived and heard from Papa that I would be joining the two of them. I stood there shocked that it was the first time she heard about it.

Guilia and Leonardo’s relationship was no longer just an arranged marriage. And as much as she tried to convince me last month when we had our luncheon of her loathing for Leonardo, foolishness is not a trait I possess. Guilia had gotten close to her soon-to-be husband and the closer she got, the more she secretly wished I wasn’t around to witness any of it.

And I know it has nothing to do with any negative underlying issues she has about my 4-year-old crush on her soon-to-be husband. She just feels awkward.

My sister convinced herself that any sign of happiness from her part meant a heart-breaking sadness on mine.

Admittedly, it’s selfish of me not to have convinced her otherwise by now. To tell her the truth would mean I confess it to myself and risk other people finding out about my sins with Marco Catelli, namely, my father.

Sometimes in the prism of my own self, I wonder if my silence really stemmed from self-preservation and the wrath of my father or was it that I secretly enjoyed her pity and spirited emotions that held me in its core.

I touch the steering wheel as a colorful bird sweeps through the air. My phone rings and I already know who it is by the ring tone.

“I’m not picking up,” I say to the empty car, as my heartbeat gets heavier.

window and I close my eyes as the fucking

I don’t face the

ignores me and knocks again.

with every intention of hurting him

car as I stand by the open door and glare at the arrogant blue-eyed, blonde-haired Matteo Fucking

and his face is blotched with redness and

back, just after his return from Chicago.

assist with his fever-stricken body. It is

description for this entire weekend. We were

Matteo, I can’t help

curiosity is unhidden standing in this weather looking at the boy who is slowly skirting off enemy lines.

what is playing in that little head of yours, I was not the brains behind this.” His voice is like sandpaper to my skin, and if he was anybody else, I

to be subjected to a sneezing soldier the entire weekend.” He rolls his

siblings in on your little secret? Tell me, Miss Capello, does your sister not smell the deceit and lies you try so hard to

see my brother just in time as he marches toward us with a

the only one with an agenda.” I hiss at Matteo, as he has the audacity

my voice could possibly

have some paperwork I need to get done.” Filippo is not in a good mood. I wonder what was said in my absence, but the tension in the car is certainly