Capo Dei Capi (Secrets of the Famiglia Part 1)

Chapter 60 (Aliyana)

I’m not sure why I care so much for the mad man, but I do and I can’t tell anyone, even Deno who

knows that I still harbor feelings for Marco. He spoke about him often enough, and even suggested that

Marco and I should be friends, but I never said a thing, not even to agree to it.

Sometimes secrets are what keep us alive.

This is for the best.

Our moments are nothing more than a memory. Fleeting. I say those words when I hear his name, or

see him from the safety of my window as he steps into my home. A lie I have come to believe at least

where Marco is concerned.

Guilia spins around and rolls her eyes at me when I throw my white and pink emoticon pillow at her

when she sticks out her butt.

She barely manages to walk toward where I am sitting on my bed before falling flat on her face.

I laugh, my words are choked as I say, “You look ridiculous, you can’t even walk.”

She makes a deep throaty sound of frustration, which causes me to laugh louder, “At least tell me you

will consider Deno?”

"No, Yana. I like him Marco. He is a much better option than anyone Papa would choose and I am a

better choice than Camilla. She isn’t sweet enough, she reminds me of an evil villain. I don’t trust her."

She smiles at me, as she moves her hair out of her make-up free face, giving me that look that I know

isn’t going to go away because she believes in what she says.

“You only don’t trust her because you want her man,” I tease her as she manages to turn on the side,

facing my sitting form.

She touches my nose when I scrunch it up knowing she is not going to be happy when he breaks her

heart like he broke mine. But nor am I able to take Guilia serious with her wild hair failing all over her

face, or her crazy eyes that are suddenly looking at me as if I stole her favorite shoes. Considering she

loves all of them, in fact Guilia loves all things fashion. Opposite to me.

“Maybe you should come with me for Lunch with Deno, he is really nice.” I suggest it as I stare at the

seam of the pink dress, looking ready to rip off her body. She has filled out these passing months. My

sister has a curvy body now compared to 6 months ago, where she was almost straight with a bit of

ass. She is all woman now. Ready to be a wife.

"No, we all can't be a second daughter and sneak around with a group of very sexy, dangerous Made-

Men. Or be friends with our future Capo, while he whisks you away to some romantic secret place to

devour you. If I even visited Azure, Papa will not think twice about turning my ass a few shades of

purple, that is after Filippo gets to me."

"You mean a half-blood daughter, and you are too old to get a hiding. Plus I didn’t get devoured. I told

you Deno and I didn’t sneak off. He was driving really fast." I clarify as my sister flicks her dark hair out

of her face trying to get up from the bed and failing. She huffs and I chuckle at her position. I am not

helping her.

“So you say, but I don't believe you, and you will never admit it, I was surprised when you called to tell

me you’ve been ducking around at night. And I know it is for my own good even though I am older than

you. But, either way you look at it, you can sneak out at night, meet a hot man and fall deep in love with

him, I can’t. I can't even leave our home without Ilaria asking me a billion questions. I wish I was you.”

The true reason why Papa would let me marry whom I choose was only because I was part Russian. It

wasn't my age, but the other half of my genetics that allowed me options and that is something Guilia

always forgot.

“No you don't, trust me.” There are pros and cons to being me. The pros is my freedom to an extent as

Papa recently reminded me, I still have chains.

The other pro is not getting married to some ugly old fat man because I have a duty to my family and

that is about it.

The cons are more. One of those cons where the fact that I had to marry a Made-Man, and he had to

be of high rank.

Which I thought would be easy a few months back. But considering that I have given an eye to a

number of guys from Campus I knew were made. Well, more than a few times in my attempt to rid

myself of my Catelli addiction which I admit failed miserably, I had to rethink things.

What I found was that my father's restrictions to my eventual marriage was going to leave me without a

husband.

A high rank Italian Made-Man didn't want a Mezzosangue as Marco called me, as a wife. They wanted

a nice Italian beauty who wore fancy dresses and sky-high heels like Camilla and my sister. I hated

heels, and dresses were something I only wore when I had a bikini underneath or I was attending the

rare function with my family.

And I was not someone who smiled when I didn't want to. I also had an education that I would one day

like to use. Yes, a high rank Made-Man would not appreciate any of that.

Another thing was my relationship with Mero, Michel, Gabriel and Deno. I couldn't see a life without

them. And the occasional visit from Dexter, or Elisa.

Getting a guy who is going to love me, and still get the approval stamp from Papa is something which is

not going to be easy, for a list of reasons. One of them being the sole fact that our kid will have Bratva

blood in their veins. That isn't going to go down well, as my first child will also have to be given to that Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

said Bratva. Which meant a war as I would not allow that to happen.

The other reason is the part where I am Sartini Capello’s half-blood daughter. My father is a scary man,

and the scowl on his face he manages to keep in company doesn't allow for an easy conversation to

say ‘I want to marry your daughter.’

Well, marriage for me was not going to be easy, and I am relieved Papa hasn't broached the subject.

He seems content to have me home, unmarried for now.

On one side I am glad but, on the other, there is this part that wants something I can't have and I wish

my father could give it to me. Marco was right when he said I didn’t want the choice. The choice or

choices didn’t want me either.

Maybe that is the reason I always chose to take risks.

Papa has loved me from the day he saw me, and he has claimed me as his favorite from then too. A

Russians' daughter.

But I knew if it wasn’t for the mask, I wore of my mother that would not be the case.