Union Of Death (Secrets of The Famiglia Part 2)

Chapter 21 (Aliyana)

“I have never seen you at any of the Gala’s Aliyana. Thought a young woman like yourself will be on the prowl for a dashing man.” We are sitting in the lounge area, eating breakfast, the men are getting ready to leave beside Marco.

Yesterday was eventful and I have no idea what happened after I went to bed, but whatever it was has left everyone rather on edge and quiet. To be honest a quiet breakfast is exactly what I need but Camilla has other plans when she opens her mouth.

“I thought this was a breakfast not an interrogation,” I say as I stop what I am doing and look at the woman who cannot seem to keep her opinions to herself

“Interrogation, breakfast is all the same thing we are Italian are we not,”

“Actually Camilla, if you must know I'm only half Italian, another part of me which you seem to forget is Russian and the Russians believe an interrogation is an interrogation.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well now you do,”

Deno walks in interrupting us by clearing his throat. Camilla has the audacity to look surprised. I don't even look at him I keep my eyes on her.

“Aliyana a quick word.”

I get up putting my half-eaten eggs on the coffee table and go to Deno,

“I see you have an enemy, which makes Camilla a problem since she happens to be close to Michel.”

“The same Michel who told me she was paying people to get information about me? Yeah, I doubt it. What can I do for the almighty Deno?”

He smiles, “I spoke to Dexter, he said he can help with our little problem. I told your father I need your help at Azure tonight and my sister said she’ll cover the evening for you. If Marco finds him before you...” He leaves the words hanging in the air and I already know what I am going to do. And Dexter did just as I asked.

“Got it.”

“Oh, and one more thing, whatever you took yesterday in that LIBRARY, make sure you give it back.” He winks and walks down the hall leaving me standing there.

I watch Deno walk away and somehow, I know things are going to be different after the nights over. Sometimes in a world ruled by trust, we are bound by not just our duty to each other but by the integrity behind our decisions.

I head back to the lounge and stop. I can’t believe my eyes. Camilla and Guilia hug, I say nothing as I enter.

“Aliyana, I’m sorry I have been such a bitch to you and Guilia.” I am shocked, at her quick turnaround. How did 2 minutes change a person? That doesn’t just happen. Dislike is like a disease, if you find a cure, it doesn’t automatically heal you in seconds.

“Guilia, can you give us a moment?” Camilla asks and Guilia leaves without so much as a flinch.

“What do you want now Camilla?”

“To say I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be sorry to, my sister has a mark on her arm with your fingerprint.” If I were any other female, I would feel an ounce of forgiveness toward the woman who now is stripped of any false bravado. Only I am not.

“Marco and I have history, a complicated one at best. We have known each other since we were kids. I think I loved him even then. After my parents died, I left America, and Marco along with it, with no intention of returning. I missed him, cried for him, but life with my grandfather...” She pauses and laughs, shaking her head. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Wasn’t all rosy?” I ask but I am not sure my wanting to know the answer to the question is strong enough as my need to understand why she’s sharing this with me.

Her sad eyes settle on my curious one, “Well, you don’t survive this long with a man like him without learning to adapt fast, and adapting at 8 meant giving up all of those childish dreams, including the boy I loved.”

“So, you had a crappy childhood, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t explain your behavior toward Guilia.”

“6-years-ago by sheer luck and a crappy birthday I met Marco again. Only he didn’t recognize me. I was just the girl in a grey dress sitting at the bar. But one night with him was all it took to give my heart to him again and I forgot for the evening that my heart wasn’t mine to give away. He asked me to stay the night and I promised I would but I couldn’t, so I left him in his hotel room waiting, with no intention of ever seeing him again. But faith gave us another chance, an arranged marriage through my Grandfather. A sealed deal, until death. I expected a lot of things. Namely, anger, hurt, pain, and eventually love. Only when I arrived, he was angry, but it had nothing to do with me. He saw me, recognized me, and knew who I was, but all I got was a shadow of the boy I knew, and a vessel to the man I met all those years ago. I thought if I gave him my body it would change, and he would fall in love with me but that didn’t happen. Until he announced your sister’s engagement. Slowly he started

changing, and I could feel his love and a promise of a future. Yet, every time I turned around, he was with your sister, whispering away.”

“What are you getting at?” My shoes are silent as I get a bit closer to her.

“I thought Guilia was the woman who owned his heart, and it made me jealous. But it was never her, I didn’t know it before, but I do now.”

“Know what?”

“You and Marco, he told me, everything, and I didn’t know he wanted to marry you, or that you and him were even a thing.” I am shocked and a bit skeptical to just believe every word she is saying.

“We were never a thing. AND it still doesn’t explain you paying people to find out shit about me.”

“Initially, I admit, your name was definitely a touchy subject when I first arrived. I never saw you, and although I heard you disliked Alice just as much as I did, Marco was always at your place.”

“So basically, you got jealous?”

She sighs, “I love Marco, Aliyana. I’ve always loved him.”

Camilla turns her back to me, and it’s then I notice she isn’t dressed too impressed. She is wearing normal jeans and a t-shirt just like I normally would, except today I am the one with the power suit on. What happened to the woman in the fancy dress and 5-inch heels? Is that the real Camilla, or is this the one?

“And you have him, his ring on your finger. He is yours, forever. There is no need to be jealous of anyone. He never loved me; he chose you.”

It hurts to say the words out loud but they are the truth and as much as I want it to be different it isn’t going to be. A firm believer of faith is something my sister is, not me. The truth is a sad point to digest, and it is a horrible thing to say out loud. But he did choose her.

“Do I? He called off our engagement last night, he is sending me back home to my Grandfather.” She bursts into tears and I am standing here, under the same roof as her, his. Only she is crying for losing him and I am trying to wrap my head around what she is telling me. He called off the engagement, nobody, not even Marco Catelli can do something like that without some serious ramifications.

The news has me still, frozen, did he really mean what he said yesterday? Am I really his? Is he, could he? No, because if I am his, and he is mine, what does that mean for Mero? I would need to choose. The question is though, was there really a choice?

“I’m sorry.”

She faces me and I see the dread on her face, but I don’t know her enough to believe any of it, or not.

“I’m pregnant.” I gasp at her words and the severity of what it means. A woman in our world pregnant, before marriage is death, for her and the baby.

“I can’t go back, I have no idea what to do, I have no one I can trust, Xander will never cover for me. He is loyal to Marco and Michel tolerates me; Salvatore hates me.”

It is said, that a woman who is in need, turns to an enemy is a desperate woman. How do I help her?

“Tell Marco.”

“He can’t know, he will hate me; I was supposed to be on the pill.”

“Why weren’t you?”

“I thought...” She actually looks embarrassed. It is a bit too late for that.

“He would have married you by now?”

“Yes.” She drops her eyes to the floor.

I hear the sound of the men leaving, and the heavy footfalls of Marco.

“I need to think,” She wipes her tears at my simple words that don’t guarantee I will help her or not, and I must say I feel pity for her.