"Mia, sweetie, don't worry about your dad. He has been missing you and under this tough and cold layer, his heart is soft and he really loves you. We all do," Mamma Eve says, trying to make Papa look less scary.

"Si, Mamma. Lo so," I reply and give her one more hug before walking in and following Papa to his office, hearing Mamma's giggle while welcoming Julian. (Yes, Mom. I know).

Papa leaves the door open for me to walk in, with tension growing and readying myself to snap and defend at any moment, if necessary.

But to my utmost surprise, he suddenly twists on his heels and grabs me in a tight hold, kissing my head while I can feel his stiff muscles relaxing once I hug him back.

"Mia dolce bambina..." he mumbles. "Finalmente sei a casa," he continues cupping my cheeks with his large palms and looking straight into my eyes. (My sweet girl... finally you are home).

The sparkle I discover there, in his shining black eyes reminds me of Papa when I was a child, the same joy, the same love, the same comfort offered without any trace of doubt, making my heart melt and forget why I have been angry with them all of this time.

"Yes, Papa, but only for one week," I rush to clarify right from the beginning.

"For a week..." he repeats in a whisper, the disappointment clearly showing in his eyes but never losing that smiling face he had from the moment I entered his office.

"A week is good... not enough, of course, but it's good, principessa," he reassures me, nodding his head and sucking in through his eyes every curve and every wrinkle on my face. (Princess).

"Absolutely gorgeous!" I hear Julian behind me. "When she's not here we're his battlefield and when she's here, it's like heavens have fallen from the sky," he continues mockingly, something that maybe he has meant it to be a joke but Papa darkens his eyes hearing it, and hardly manages to keep himself calm.

Truth be told, I always knew I had a special place in Papa's heart. I only wished it was special enough to allow me to bond with my biological mother a little bit more.

"Stop being a brat, Julian," Mamma Eve scolds him and both Papa and I, still trapped in our moment, creep a smile stirred by a jealous Julian, something we have never experienced before.

"I have something ready for dinner and I'm sure you both need a good sleep after that," she continues, grabbing Papa's arms and freeing me from his hold just to cage me herself in a stronger one.

She walks both of us out of Papa's office and I do not forget Julian, sticking my tongue out once we pass by him and the payback is cruel.

He pulls out from the pocket of his jeans a pink lollipop, wiggling it to me as bait and I have to admit, it's damn tempting but mamma Eve keeps walking towards the dining, leaving me no chance to stop.

"I'll get it later," I mouth back at him as a threat and he waves his hands around as an invitation.

Bottom line, I'm a spoiled brat, but one that they have raised, so, it's not my fault.

The evening was short, to my utmost content because honestly, the only thing I'm in for right now is a good shower and a good sleep.

When I mentioned my success in being accepted for the contest in my uni, Papa popped a bottle of champagne and congratulations were flooding from all sides, telling me I made them proud.

I am proud of myself too. And I can't wait to start my project. I already have it penciled in my mind, it's an idea that I have had for years and I told Papa that if he ever thought to build a hotel in Paris, I would be the designer, from the first piece of marble to the last stroke of paint. I made him promise that and he challenged the promise, like he always does, with a promise of his own, that I would be the manager of that hotel at first, until I earned it to be mine.

Well, "as long as it's not Italy", he ended his promise and made sure I wouldn't have anything to do with it.

I understand him, up to a point. He and Mamma Eve have left that country years back for a safer life in the States, but he likes it or not, I'm a grown-up woman with full rights to make my life the way I decide.

Laying on my back in the bed I pick up my phone from the nightstand for one more check on the performance of my last updated chapter and I can say it's not bad.

Fifty more reads, except for the one mysterious reader who's always showing up moments after I update a new chapter.

And then I realized that my next few months would have me fully handed in with work for my project and then the finals and I won't have any time left for writing.

Well, I'm not sure how many readers will pay attention to my message but I find it only decent to let them know I won't be on the app for the next few months.

I carefully draft the message, short and clear then I publish it on my wall confident that I've been polite enough to have their understanding.

Politeness is something that my parents have always imposed, whether you like it or not.

I smile and turn off the screen of my phone seconds before someone knocks lightly at my door, making me wonder who can be at this hour.

Julian and I were the last ones to leave the dining while Papa and Mamma Eve had retrieved to their room way before us.

"Come in," I say in a whisper and I see Julian peeking his head through the cracked door.

"Are you decent?" he asks.

"I'm always decent, Julian," I scold him back for the bad joke.

He laughs and shows himself, walking towards my bed like a panther with his long, muscular legs and sitting uninvited on the edge of the bed.

"What is it, Julian?" I ask slightly bothered, something he gracefully ignores.

He seems happy about something and I become somehow eager to know the reason.

"What, Julian?"

He shoves his hand in the pocket of his linen white shirt and pulls out the pink lollipop, showing it to me and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Not now, Julian," I tell him thinking that a sister-brother fight is totally inappropriate at this hour, especially with everybody sleeping.

"You're scared you can't beat me, right?" he tries his luck although he knows that my reactions are always snapping when least expected, and I prove to him that this time is no exception, landing a fist in the rock-hard muscles of his right upper arm which clearly had zero effect on him, but he still grabs the spot with the other hand and starts whining like a kid.

I drop my elder sister's attitude and I burst into a fist of silent laughter which he follows with the same joy as mine.

Reminds me of us being kids, the naughtiest my parents have, and totally different than my younger sister, Carol.

Although she's only fourteen, her grace and elegance copy Grandma Becca entirely, always refined, always quiet, and patient.

"It's good to have you home, Mia," he suddenly becomes serious and hands me the lollipop which I grab quickly and hide under my pillow.

The best bribe one can ever get. Or... at least one that I can get.

"It's good to be home," I confirm to him back and he bends over to give my forehead and brotherly kiss.

My phone buzzes and pulls us out from the tender moment we have, making Julian stare back at me with a goofy look.

"Who's chatting with you at this hour?" he asks.

"Nobody. It's probably just a notification," I reply but he keeps staring at me in disbelief and then I realize what he means with that.

"No, Julian. I don't have a boyfriend. If I did, I would have sent him off to you first for an interview and approval," I make fun of his overprotective nature and he doesn't even bother to deny that this is exactly what he expects.

He just ruffles the hair on the top of my head, which he knows so damn well I hate, and laughs, showing himself pleasant with my obedience.

"Good girl," he says and immediately snaps up on his feet walking away to leave my room not before whispering me back good night.

I smile and pull the blanket up to my chin, waiting for him to close the door so I can check on my phone as soon as I'm alone, I grab it, opening the app of my writings just to find one single reply to my message, a "fuck you" emoticon from no other but my usual mysterious reader.

Now, this is weird. I never knew I had such a faithful reader less to talk one that shows upset with the break I've announced.

Hell, I never expected that I had any readers at all when I started writing here.

It's just a playground, my place where I can be myself and freely talk about our lives, about who I am, about being the daughter of an incognito Don of the Italian mafia.

You see, I have no friends except for Ben who, surprise, surprise, shares the same life as mine, the only difference is that he doesn't reject it. He knows exactly he'll be the next to take over his father's businesses and he's being heavily prepared for that.

I, on the other hand, don't like it, don't want it, wished I had never moved here and lived with Papa.

All I want is an ordinary life away from the pecks of being a mafia daughter, which has given me a pretty easy life, affecting everything I want and even more, but in change of that, I've had always a pair of bodyguards watching me, following me everywhere and telling me what to do and how to do, depriving me of friends like all teenagers have.

I've been told I take after Mamma Eve. She used to be the same when she was my age.

Just how silly is that? She was not even my biological mother but maybe I was meant to be her child rather than raised by my biological mother.

Should I send a reply? I mean, I know that some readers might be bothered by the very long break I've announced, I get it, but that  "fuck you" emoticon says more than being bothered.

And I hardly end my thought when a new message comes, from the same reader with a cursing emoticon this time.

And from feeling obliged to give a reply filled with apologies again, anger spreads and crawls under my skin so I throw the thought away and turn off my phone.

A good sleep is always better than wasting my energy on someone who doesn't even know me.

Who the hell does she or he think she or he is?!

Oh, fucking shit! Of course, it is a she! No male would read my stupidly gross romantic stories and you know what? She does deserve one hell of a reply!

I jump out from the blanket wrapped around me like a cocoon and grab my phone opening the app and typing my very strong reply.

Fuck you, too!

Sent! Now, an eye for an eye, motherfucker!

I'm the daughter of an Italian mafia Don after all! Maybe it's time I behaved like one.

I instantly regret having sent that reply, silly me.

And I can't even delete it, or edit it.

"Fuck it!" I curse throwing the phone away and hiding myself back under the blanket.

I'm going to get a good sleep and forget about this stupid thing which I don't even know why I bother to keep doing.

I'm not a writer. I'm a designer. I have quite a busy schedule in the next months waiting for me and this has to stop. Right now.

Maybe... maybe I won't even go back to writing anymore which brings me nothing in return but losing myself in a world that is not even real.

My mafia family life is real and is right here, with me. I'm living every day the stories I'm writing about in that app and it's about time I make peace with it.

Well, except for the love between my two main characters. That is my secret dream, a man who is brave enough to enter my very complicated life and one who doesn't fear to show kindness and care.

As if the thoughts that have just crossed my mind never existed, I get down from the bed and search for my phone between all the clothes tossed on the floor.

Once I find it, I open the app, go back to my last message, and quickly type a new reply, one that I haven't even thought twice to write.

I'm sorry...

~~~~~
Dear Reader, thank you for being here. 🤗