Chapter 6 (Aliyana)


    “It’s like we stepped foot into another dimension it is so cold.” Two men in ck pants and jackets walk


    over toward us, and begin unlocking the gates. I am surprised the gates don’t open automatically like


    his father''s ce.


    “It seems the owner over the house wishes to maintain the house in its full ancient theme. Which


    apparently includesck of better security.” I say earning me Filippo’s firstugh since he got into the


    car.


    “Everything here is donkey years old. Except there is excellent cell service. This ce belonged to the


    DeMarco’s for nearly 4 Centuries. Marco inherited it when his mother passed.”


    “His mother is a DeMarco?” This is news to me, I always thought they were Nicole’s children. If Marco


    is a DeMarco, that means Gabriel is rted to Marco.


    Marco, Marco, Marco. The word runs through my head. His name is a reminder of who he is. Question


    is, was the reminder a curse or a blessing? I’m going to go with thetter. Maybe joining this weekend


    away is not such a bad idea after all. There is a lot of things one can learn when the answers are close


    by.


    “Not all the Catelli siblings belong to Nicole. Let’s keep this one between us.” I nod just as the gates


    part ways for us and Guilia rustles at the back, sensing our arrival.


    “It feels like I’ve stepped into another time,” Guilia utters as she yawns and most probably stretches her


    long lithe body. The space at the back is a bit cramped with the paint supplies I carried just in case the


    mood struck me.


    “Did you enjoy the nap?” I ask as I drive into the yard surrounded by an open manicured garden.


    I can''t see the house nicely from this far. But I do take note of the overly on top art piece that is the


    entry of the greenery. It is crafted in ivory, two lions intertwined in a battle of wills.


    I try to zoom in on the statue but can''t really get a good inspection on the piece which is the one


    grandeur of the garden.


    “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. And I also want to say sorry for behaving like a brat.”


    “I am cool with it,” I say as Filippo ignores her apology. I wonder what she said to piss him off this bad?


    My nerves are not helping my inquisitive self either. They are currently on strike for working too hard


    thesest few hours. They are demanding release. The crisp clean air prates my senses as I pay


    all my attention to the healthy evergreen grass and hedgehog trees.


    Material ? N?velDrama.Org.


    Further away resembles the plot of a dead ground for the ghost of Carnival street, haunted in a grey


    fog, still in the promise of the winter chill.


    I wee the crisp of the air, a thrilling re as each inhale is felt deep within me.


    There were a few rumors regarding this Manor. Most of it farfetched besides the one tale I think has


    some truth to it. Marco Catelli had a graveyard in his backyard. Of that, I am almost 99% certain.


    "We''re here!” I say as the car stops under the big dome-like parking space. To my right is the entrance,


    which is open to two doors that I''m sure is akin to the gateway of Buckingham pce.


    "Yup, we have arrived. This ce is a tidbit creepy," Guilia makes a shivering sound. I turn off the car’s


    engine and see perpendicr to me is a familiar face. Xander Moretti


    He must have a strong sense because he looks at me right through the partially tinted window and his


    eyes say nothing. Thest time I saw him was the night Ren and Matteo killed a Russo.


    “I think it’s perfect,” I whisper the words, not sure if they can hear me but not caring either.


    Matteo shows himself as he opens my door and the smell of his vape hits my nose. The strong vani


    scent catches in my throat as he blows the smoke.


    “''Why do you smoke that, it’s disgusting.”


    “It’s a quality-adjusted lifestyle, don’t knock it until you''ve tried it,” Matteo says as he slips the device


    into his coat pocket. My eyes betray me as they go back to Xander who is dressed in denim pants and


    a ski jacket. He has no gloves on his hands but if he is cold, he doesn’t show it.


    “You crushing on Xander? Good luck, the guy is Marco’s firstmand,” Matteo says as my brother


    and sister hops out of the car.


    “Maybe you should wipe your face Matteo, it seems to be full of jealousy,” Guilia adds walking past us,


    she touches Matteo on the shoulder and winks at me.


    “And I wondered if you were into hot sexy men, good taste,” I tease with a wink of my own as he has


    the nerve to roll his eyes and smirk.


    I don’t stand a moment longer in the presence of Matteo.


    My sister beats my brother and myself to the door where the owner stands, in his dark cks and grey


    Jersey. His smile is as false as his personality. My stomach knots as my heart picks up speed with


    every inch closer I get to him.


    Why does Marco have to own the ce and not Deno? Because karma likes to fuck me over.


    He doesn’t look at me and I am thankful for that small reprieve to reprimand my traitorous body into not


    humiliating me as it did thest time I had to look into the man''s face. My body must remain faithful to


    my sanity and not let me down like that day where he broke me down and left me without a backward


    nce.


    The thoughtse as a needed shield and I am grateful for them, and also for the hardness, it has


    caused around my heart since this man I now stop in front of, showed me the meaning of the word,


    heartbreak.


    His face breaks out into a grin, as his eyes dip to my bared legs, encased in a sued 4-inch-high, ck


    ankle boot, that kept my feet warm but gave me a bit of added height. His eyes hold my own in a


    second, and my heart beats in fear, making me feel like I am the one doing wrong when he is the one


    standing too close, staring too long.


    His rigid body betrays his unaffected stance as he drops his mindless attention to the winter pencil


    dress, that hugs my body, hinting at my curves.


    And like our first meeting, altercation, his outstretched hand is waiting, extended, facing me. Idling.


    “Hello, Mr. Catelli.” I wrap my hand around his for less than a second, because unlike thest time he


    touched me, I am the only one being burned. So why should I suffer?


    My inner strength does not defy my internal order when I look behind him, dismissing him as if all he


    deserves is a few seconds of my time. And I should take pride in how excellent of an actor I am. Of


    how I, a woman am able to convince Marco Catelli of all men that I am unaffected by his presence.


    I walk away toward the inner part of the house and a familiar voice strikes me to a standstill as my ears


    perk when I hear a small voice following.


    “Gabriel,” I yell not caring whose house I’m in.


    “Aly Cat, where art thou.” I walk toward the sounding from my right. The angelic art on the ceilings


    talk of medieval gods and demons entangled in a battle of wills. Much like the lion statue outside.


    Golden beams surround the art, like a caged world all poured into one ce. It is breathtakingly


    exquisite and reminds me of Leonardo Da Vinci’s painting, The Battle of Anghiari.


    I walk through a less grandeur scene as I step into the widespread kitchen. Gabriel’s smile warms me


    up as I am epassed in his tall familiar arms.


    “You look way too grown up, Aly Cat, is it your sister’s wedding dinner or yours?”


    Iugh and open my mouth to say something when a tall woman in a white pencil skirt and red blouse


    walks toward us.


    “Hi, you must be Aliyana,” She is staring at me and although it is our first time officially meeting it isn’t


    her first timeying those eyes on me.


    “In the flesh.”