Marco

God damn it. I love you, Anabella; I swear I do, but I was kind in the middle of something really, really pleasant.

All the assassin training did not prepare me for this situation. It is funny somehow though.

Smoothly I move my hands on Roxi's back to close her bra again. Ah well...

"Anabella, cosa ci fai qui? Scommetto che tua madre ti sta cercando./ Anabella what are you doing here? I bet your mom is looking for you."

"Don't tell me you have a daughter because that is something you really should have mentioned at least briefly. She does look a bit like you," says Roxi, looking at me skeptically.

"Pebbles, meet my niece Anabella."

Anabella pouts and looks at us frowning.

"Mamma e papà si stanno urlando addosso e papà ha preso di nuovo una pistola. Ero spaventata, quindi sono venuto a cercarti per dire loro di smetterla. Sei l'unico che papà ascolta./ Mommy and daddy are screaming at each other and daddy pulled out a gun again. I was frightened so I came looking for you to tell them to stop. You are the only one daddy listens to."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Ho capito, tesoro. Dove sono loro? Verrò tra un minuto e provvederò a questo, ok?/ I understand, sweety. Where are they? I will come in a minute and see to that, okay?"

I knew it was not going to be smooth with Chiara and Anabella suddenly living here.

A gunshot resonates through the building. Christ, Stefano! I feel Roxi's body tense in my embrace and see tears appearing in Anabella's eyes.

"Roxi, I really know how it looks and sounds but seemingly Stefano is pulling some crap again and I have to see to it," I say, kissing her gently.

She nods. It's so damn difficult it is to leave her in this brief moment. I am again walking away as I did after our beach outing.

"I will come see you. Clock museum and Swiss chocolate and stuff. Ok?"

At least she does not look angry, maybe just disappointed.

"Marco, will you be okay?"

It feels strange to hear this question. There hasn't been anybody concerned about me, except maybe Tomaso, in a very long time.

"Sure. Why are you ... Concerned?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Stefano is crazy. Ups sorry, I didn't mean to say that. Go take care of the kid. She is cute. Remember, clock museum," she says, kissing my cheek.

You are just cute, Pebbles.

A familiar scream echoes through the house signaling that I have to leave.

Scooping Anabella up we make our way to Stefano's wing.

"Uncle Marco, is that your girlfriend?" she says, looking at me sternly; well, as stern as a six-year-old can look.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you were kissing her on the mouth. Mommy says you kiss only your boyfriend on the mouth."

I bet she does.

"Hmm, she is pretty with the hair like Barbie but I don't want you to marry her. I want you to marry only me."

I can't help smiling.

"But I am too old to marry you. You will find someone suitable. How about Luca? You liked him last month."

"Not as much as I like you and daddy is always nicer when you are around."

Ah, so that's it.

We get closer to the west wing and Stefano's screams get louder by the moment. 

His relationship with Chiara, Anabella's mother, can be pretty tumultuous, as are his relationships with every human being, to be honest.

Stefano was never very keen to use protection when he had sex so it was only a matter of time till he would impregnate someone. Given that he is rich, powerful, and quite handsome, which is mostly enough for many women, there were many girls who wanted that and pursued him actively.

The only one who seems to have succeeded however is Chiara, a luxury escort he had an affair with a few years ago. But Chiara's dream to become a Messina wasn't granted as Stefano didn't want to marry her under any circumstances.

He was thinking about eventually marrying a daughter of another capo, as it is often customary, to strengthen the relationships between clans, much like in the Middle Ages, if you think about it.

But Chiara had a child, and family is important in traditional Sicilian families. So she got a luxury apartment in Palermo and a monthly allowance so that she could have the lavish lifestyle she desired while taking care of Anabella.
Stefano didn't want her and the child to live with him because he didn't want the constant responsibility or the jealous girlfriend Chiara could sometimes be even without being officially anything but baby mama.

Anabella is a lovely child, and in the current very delicate situation she is Stefano's only heir.

"Stefano, you are insane!" screams Chiara.

I open the door with Anabella still on my arm.

"Marco, thank goodness you are here. Stefano wants to take Anabella shooting."

"Stefano, she is right, that's insane."

"Why would that be insane? She is my heir and she will be a capo one day. Is it because she is a girl? Were you not the one preaching to me equal rights and all that crap?"

"No, you moron, it's because she is six," I say and can't help rolling my eyes. It's mind-blowing that we are even having this conversation.

"Don't you dare disrespect me again," he screams and his hands are searching for the gun at his belt.

Christ in heaven, not again.

"Anabella, go playing outside, ok sweety?"

I put her down and pat her on the head.

"Stefano, calm down or you might have another seizure. Give me the gun and let's talk about it calmly. I know you love Anabella and want her to be safe, to know to protect herself, but the only thing that will happen is that she will end up traumatized."

"You are just crazy," screams Chiara.

"Chiara, you are not helping. Go outside, please."

She exits mumbling some bad words addressed to Stefano, which I can quite understand in these circumstances.

"Stefano, calm down. How old were you when father took you shooting for the first time?"

"Dunno', twelve I guess."

"See, she is too young."

"But you were way younger."

And was that a good thing? Not really.

"Yes, but I was never supposed to be a capo. So better train her in other stuff. With luck, she will never have to dirty her hands."

He seems to calm down. Another almost literal bullet dodged.

"Let's have a drink. We also need to talk about business," he says in the end.

Telling him now that he shouldn't drink is a really dangerous thing to do.

In the end, we sit down in the office and he pours each of us a whiskey glass.

"I am happy that you accepted, in the end, the fact that we are going to do business with Aziz," he says looking out the window.

I am not, but whatever.

"Did I tell you, Tomaso told me that the little Swiss girl is leaving? They are sending the architect chick down here on Monday. Make sure Chiara does not disturb us. And should I tell you now preemptively to not fuck the staff?"

"No danger there. Really, none whatsoever," I say and take a deep breath.

"Come on Marco, don't be angry with me, you know I can't help myself around beautiful women."

Lord give me patience.

"Mhm."

"Come on little brother, we can go party in Catania tonight so you have some fun and stop being cranky."

"I am not cranky, I am tired and stressed. It was a hard week."

"OK, then sleep and we go tomorrow. There is no stress some hookers can't get you rid of."

For God's sake, just stop talking.

"Ok fine, I will go sleep now, you should do that too. Ok?"

"Ok, cheer up brother," he says and comes closer to pat my cheek and pull at the very thin strings of my patience this evening.

It would be only a few swift moves, grabbing the gun from his belt, pointing at his temple, and shooting.

Kinslayer! It's in your blood, kinslayer! Bastard.

Snap out of it. Jesus, I really need to relax.

If I count together the good sleep I had in the last week I would not get to anything remotely healthy.

My room is on the second floor of the east wing and with the alterations made a few years ago, it was changed and extends till under the roof so I can have coffee viewing the sunrise if I feel like it.

Despite everything, it's a peaceful night. The sky is full of stars. On the right, mount Edna is towering over the island, and to the left one can see the city lights and further down the infinite ocean.

A quite beautiful view but it's always nicer to enjoy it with someone, I guess.

The water in the shower makes my muscles ache less. I'm terribly tense today and sort of blue-balled, to be honest.

Dressing some pajama bottoms I lay down in bed over the covers feeling the early may wind on my skin.

Tired but still too anxious to fall asleep I grab a book from one of the shelves without looking at it.

"Il Principe," I read aloud with slight irony in my voice. It's a book Alex gifted me when we were studying together at Oxford.

On the first page, he even wrote a dedication: 'from one of the few that understand your fate'.

He is however wrong; while he is sort of a gangster prince I am only a blade, raised and honed to be only a perfect weapon in the hands of the family, nothing more than that.

While our fathers did have a quite similar fate, he had always been the only heir and hope, while I am a second son born out of wedlock.

The door opens slowly and I look up surprised. I didn't lock it because I never do, because nobody is visiting me at night, so far at least...

My expectation is to see two little, dark brown eyes carried inside by two tiny feet but I am so mistaken.

Chiara steps inside wearing a light pink silk pajama dress that barely reaches her thighs.

She is a beautiful woman. Stefano does not sleep with anybody that isn't attractive and they have even dated for a brief while. Long legs, tanned and supple that seem endless in that short dress, long dark hair skilfully curled, and a pretty enough face with honey-colored eyes, that still looks nice despite the lip Botox and the fake lashes, paint the portrait of a modern-day Venus.

"Chiara. How can I help you?"

And what about knocking before entering?

"I came to talk to you," she says smiling and sitting down on the edge of the bed by my side.

Conflicted and surprised are only two of the things that I am feeling. It's not good that it couldn't wait till tomorrow.

"Stefano is not going to hurt Anabella. He loves her. She is his daughter and only heir."

"So far at least," she says.

"Well if you think I can control in any way who Stefano sleeps with, you are very mistaken."

"No, but..." She smiles in a strange way, sort of coy and mischievous at the same time.

Graciously she stands up and pulls the nightgown over her head revealing perfectly engineered breasts and a flat stomach with a piercing covered by the same flawlessly tanned skin.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" I whisper annoyed, grabbing her wrists before she can touch my face in an attempt to lean over and kiss me.

"No. Marco, I ... "

"You are the mother of Stefano's daughter. In which circumstances do you think he would not shoot you if he finds out about this?"

"But Stefano is dying and till Anabella comes of age you are going to be capo, I guess. And well, besides that... You have always been kind to both of us. I like you and you cannot say that I don't arouse you," she whispers, leaning forward and brushing her lips over mine forcing them apart.

'Annoy', the word is annoy, it also starts with a.

I push her away maybe a bit abruptly and hand her the pajama she dropped on the floor.

"Get dressed and go to your room before somebody sees you here and Stefano kills us both in a fit of rage." Then I sigh, feeling bad for my wording. "Look, I love Anabella more than anything. I will always protect her regardless of what will happen. Now please, for God's sake, go away and never approach me again unless you are fully dressed and there are witnesses," I tell her, trying to sound gentle but firm, but probably sound just annoyed, while I not so graciously shove her out in the hallway and lock the door.

Now I need to remember to always lock it; the consequences can be homicide.

More annoyed and anxious than before, I start googling clock museums in Bern to calm down when my attention is captured by a front-page article.

Vincenzo Medici-Ricardi and his family die in a helicopter accident.

Fuck.