18. Stefano
"Oh, come on, Stefano." My half-sister, Caitlyn, huffs loudly, throwing her hands in the air for dramatic effect. "Why wouldn't you want me to ask the bride what flowers she likes or what colors she would prefer? It doesn't make any sense. She should give me her input for her own wedding."
"I told you twice already. Don't make me repeat it again after this. Amelia has no say in this wedding. She will deal with whatever is planned for her. She will wear the dress she is given, and she will smile and be grateful. So, you can go ahead and do anything you like. Just make sure it looks good."
Caitlyn rolls her eyes. "Getting her opinion would actually save me some work you know. You're leaving this entire thing to me to deal with. It's not really fair. Planning a wedding is a lot of work and you're expecting me to do it on my own."
I spin towards her in heated anger, sick of her complaining, and tired of her protests.
"Do I look like I fucking care, Caitlyn? Just get it done. And while you're wondering about what's fair and what's not fair go and look in your wallet, that credit card you find there; remember who it actually belongs to. Who funds it. And then come back and tell me what's fair and what's not fair. Now get the fuck out of my sight." I wave my hand in front of her face, dismissing her. She better leave now, because honestly, I'm so annoyed with everything today that if she carries on pushing my buttons there is no good way this will end.
"Fuck me?! You're an extra asshole today." She snaps then spins around and marches out of the room carrying the folder with the wedding details in it. She better get it done. And we have a tight timeline; I don't want to delay this anymore.
I turn back to my coffee, the mug sitting on the table in the living room.
It's probably cold by now.
Caitlyn's right though.
I'm definitely even more tense today than I have been the last few days.
Having to deal with Amelia has been something new, but today things are changing even more.
Amelia's daughter is being moved into the house this afternoon and there is a bit of mayhem as medical staff rush back and forth to set up her room. I've been watching them get things ready all morning.
I promised Amelia proper care for Elena - anything she needs - and I intend to keep that promise. But the entire process is bringing up a lot of memories of my own little girl, Merelda, and the pain of losing her. Watching her suffering in those last weeks has left especially deep scars on my heart. I don't want to think about her.
Because of that - I'm struggling today.
I hate thinking about the past like that. I don't need this reminder.
It's pissing me off.
I stand up, leaving my cold coffee where it is. I should do something. I can't just sit here all day watching the shit show.
A doctor bumps into me as he walks down the hallway towards Elena's room.
"Sorry." He mutters quickly and then hurries on.
I stare after him, wanting to go and look - but not being able to face so many people.
Images flash in my memory -- sitting in the hospital ward next to Merelda's bed. Holding her tiny hand in mine and listening to her strained breathing and the beeping monitor attached to her heart.
I push the images aside.
I can't actually watch this anymore. I have to get out of the way where I can't see everything that's happening. I need space.
I head to my study, pour a whisky and sit by the window to wait for everything to be done and for everyone to get the fuck out of my house. I thought having a young child here might bring back memories, but I didn't imagine just how difficult it would be.
I down my whisky and pour another. Leaning back into the chair I close my eyes, sighing heavily. I must've drifted off at some point because I was dragged into a weird dream about shadows lurking in abandoned hospitals. Dark feelings that drag me down, down, down -
One of the housekeepers comes knocking on the study door. I wake up startled, spilling the last of my drink on my pants.
"Shit."
I glance at my watch. It's been over two hours since I came in here. I must have been pretty fucking tired to fall asleep like that.
The housekeeper clears her throat softly, drawing my attention towards her.
"Sir, you asked me to let you know once everyone was gone and the girl was settled in the room."
"And?" I snarl, turning the entire chair towards the open doorway where she's standing.
She jumps. "They're gone, sir. The little girl is asleep in her room now. I think she struggled a bit with the journey from the hospital and she was uncomfortable. The doctor gave her some meds to help her sleep."
I nod. "Fine."
The housekeeper bolts out of the study, wanting to get away from me as quickly as possible. Can I blame her for the sour expression on my face today? Why the fuck is my mood so dark?
I know the answer.
I put down the empty whisky glass and stand up. My legs are aching from sitting for too long. My head is thick, and my thoughts are heavy. Half of my mind is telling me I'll make it worse if I go and see the girl. But the other half of me knows I'm too curious not to.
I walk through the now quiet house into her room. The soft beeping of the heart monitor quietly drifts through the room -- a sound I know all too well.
Elena is asleep and the curtains are half drawn closed for her.
Standing at the foot of her bed I watch her breathing peacefully. Her dark hair is swept across the pillow and my throat tightens. She looks so similar to Merelda that it's breaking my heart.
Curiosity continues to push me, and I pick up her charts, lying on the table at the foot of her bed. The doctors have already updated her latest treatments -- the meds she's received since arriving.
The first page details her medication, dosage, and times of day that she requires each one. The first set has been ticked.
All of the medications sound familiar. Why would I know these names?
I flick the first page over.
Then another.
And my heart pulls so tight in my chest I can't breathe. I fight the surge of bewilderment that threatens to buckle my legs beneath me. My world starts spinning.
What the fuck is going on?
What is happening right now?
Alagille Syndrome.
She has exactly the same disease Merelda died from.
A rare disease that affects the liver - inherited from a parent.
A genetic confirmation of who this child is to me.
The truth slams into me like a sledgehammer. It fucking smashes against my mind and sends me spinning in all directions.
She is my daughter.
There is no question about it.
But I don't believe I'm a donor match. I wasn't for Merelda. The odds are against me.
And the anger. The betrayal. Six years of it. I want Amelia to beg. To feel the desperation I feel now.
I'm scared. Terrified, really. Of getting tested. Of finding out I'm not a match. Of facing another loss.
"Hello." Her sleepy voice travels towards me.
I look up at her. My daughter. Her sleepy face turned towards me.
"Hello," I reply, fighting for my head to stop churning in chaos.
"I'm Elle." She says with a smile. I can see myself in her. I can see the similarities. The brown eyes, the dark hair, the shape of her nose.
"I'm Stefano. Do you know where you are?"
"My mom told me we were coming to stay here for a little bit."
"A little bit. Interesting. This is actually your new home, Elle. You will be living here forever."
"Forever is a really long time." She giggles.
"I guess it is." I walk around the bed to get a close look at her. She sits up, slowly moving carefully; I can see that the process causes her pain.
"Do you want me to raise the back of the bed for you?"
"Does it move like the hospital bed?" She asks.
"It does." I pick up the remote control attached to the railing of the bed and press the button. Slowly the backrest raises up and Elle takes a moment to get comfortable. I help her with her pillow, puffing it out a bit.
"Thank you, that's much better."
"It's no problem, Elle."
I can't stop staring at her. All this time I thought Amelia had run off and had a child with another man, but all this time she was lying to me, hiding the truth. Hiding my own child from me.
My jaw muscles clench in anger.
She hid my own daughter from me for six years.
"Can you pass me my teddy bear?" Elena asks innocently unaware of the turmoil in my mind.
I turn towards where her little hand is pointing.
"Which one do you want?" I ask as I walk towards the dresser.
"The elephant. The pink elephant. Her name is also Elle."
"This one."
"Mmhmm." She nods, smiling.
I walked back over to the bed and hand her the pink elephant toy. It's big, and I can see it's been around for a few years. It looks like it's been washed enough times to fade it and soften the stitching.
Elle holds the elephant in her hands and brushes her little hands over the soft pink fur.
"My mom never told me about you. Are you friends with her?"
I cock my head to the side. "Friends? No. Elena, I am your father."
Amelia might want to hide the truth, but I refuse to. Elena deserves to know who I am.
Six years have already been wasted. Why waste another moment?
Her head turns quickly towards me, her big brown eyes wide with shock. "My dad?" She asks in disbelief.
"Yes," I confirm. "Did your mother ever tell you about your father? Where he was all these years? Did she say anything about me?
Her little brows knot together, and she bites her lip. The same gesture her mother has when she's nervous or uncomfortable.
"Um Maybe. I don't remember."
She starts tugging at the elephant's ears.
"Did you want to ask me anything, Elena?"
She shakes her head quickly and shifts ever so slightly away from me. She looks awkward and uncomfortable. I hook the remote back onto the side of the bed. "It's here if you need it - when you want to lower the back of the bed again. Do you know how it works?"
She nods tightly.
I brush my hand across her cheek. Her skin is soft and warm like Amelia's. It's so fascinating how she can look like me and Amelia at the same time.
"What are you doing?" Amelia's voice comes from behind me, tight and full of panic.
I don't bother turning to look at her.
With one last glance at my daughter, my child, I turn towards the door and walk out of the room. Brushing past Amelia in silence.
"I'll be right back, sweetie." I hear Amelia saying to Elle.
I'm halfway down the passage when she whispers my name with force.
"Stefano." She snaps coldly.
I turn to glare at her. She is boldly glaring right back. How fucking dare she.
"What is it, Amelia?" I reply in a bland tone.
"What the fuck were you doing in her room?" She hisses.
"It is my house. I believe I can go into any room I wish."
"You have control over me, that's fine, I won't fight you on that - but you leave my daughter alone. Don't even speak to her. Stay away from her." She practically snarls the words at me, heated anger is flaming from her eyes.
She's protective. A mother lioness.
She looks fucking gorgeous.
"I should stay away from your daughter?" I snarl back at her.
Who the fuck does she think she is? How did she imagine she'd be able to hide this from me? She might've kept it a secret up until now, but things are going to change.
She doesn't bother replying - she just shoots fire with her eyes.
The silence between us grows heavy.
"No," I say with heated tension. "I won't stay away from her."
"Stefano. You won't speak to her, and you won't touch her. Ever. I swear, if you do - "
"What? What will you do about it, Amelia? What power do you think you have here? You have fucking nothing. Less than nothing. It's time you accepted that, isn't it?"
I can't stop my eyes from traveling over her body. Her slender figure, the way her jeans hug her hips.
Her eyes are bright with frustration and threatened tears. She is fighting to control herself. I chuckle, enjoying her discomfort.
At the sound of my laughter her entire face changes. Her lips curl back, and she steps away from me, in a flash her hand is swinging towards my face.
I grab her wrist, spin her around, and slam her body against the wall, pinning her beneath me, and pressing her hard against it.
She squeals in protest, and I grab her jaw in my hand, turning her face towards mine I kiss her.
Her lips feel the same as they do every time. Like heaven.
Soft, warm, and inviting.
The moment my mouth locks over hers I want more. I want her naked skin against mine. I want to taste her sweat and spread her open.
Electricity sparks between us and the tension increases by a hundred.
I press my body harder into hers and she squirms beneath me.
I grip her jaw tighter and hold her in place as I continue to cover her mouth with mine.
The slightest moan escapes her lips and even though I know it is just the sound of her protests, my body reacts as though she is encouraging me.
My cock begins to grow hard.
I don't bother hiding it from her. I press it against her, enjoying the sensation.
She tries to move away again and only succeeds in rubbing against me, making me even harder.
Her scent washes over me.
Vanilla. Warm honey. I am drowning in memories today.
I remember her body, naked as she straddled me, her hips rocking over me. The smile that touched her lips as she rested her hands on my chest and thrust herself against me.
My body practically shudders as I picture it.
Fuck.
I want her so badly.
Do I have to wait for the wedding?
Does it even make a difference?
She is mine, and she already agreed to do anything I want.
I want this.
I want her.
Her breathing is heavy, her chest heaving beneath me.
I lean back slightly so that I can look into her eyes.
I see defiance, but also something else. Something familiar to me.
I chuckle again.
I can see the lust in her eyes no matter how hard she is trying to hide it from me.
Once upon a time, she couldn't keep her hands off me and no matter what she tries to tell herself, her body remembers what that feels like.
She bites her lower lip in agitation and turns her face away from me, trying to hide how flushed her cheeks are.
I'll wait until after the wedding. I'll wait, and it will be worth it. Because when I take her - she is going to love it. She might want to deny it, but she can't hide it.
When I do fuck her she'll be screaming my name. Begging for more.
I smirk, staring down at her.
"What?" She snaps bitterly.