Chapter 47
I only have myself to blame.
There’s the fucking irony.
At least I finally have food. Until sinking my teeth into the turkey club, I didn’t realize how hungry I am, and how long it’s been since I’ve eaten. Zeno claims he won’t kill me but if he didn’t feed me soon, I’d be well on my way to dying by starvation.
Amazing how food slightly changes one’s outlook. Only ever so slightly, of course. Nothing life-changing.
I’m three bites through the sandwich, two mouthfuls into the accompanying chicken noodle soup, and one large swig from the ice water when the lock on the door jiggles. I finish chewing and rest the plate on the floor, pushing the tray away before he witnesses me devouring the food. No reason to think he’s owed a thanks for meeting my basic needs.
The door unlocks and opens, but it’s not Zeno standing there.
It’s Serafina, a key gripped in her hand while widened eyes stare at where I’m sitting on the mattress. She shifts her feet and a nervous energy exudes from her as she links her hands in front of her.
Venus bolts in the room, jumping on the mattress beside me, her tail whipping back and forth. I pet her head but slide myself between her and the food, unwilling to fight a Doberman for my one and only meal.
Serafina steps inside and all I’m able to focus on is her eyes. My eyes. Papa’s eyes. And the surrealness of her very being. Everything I faced in the shower earlier, everything I ignored during the trip with Zeno, smashes into me again, dropping me right at ground zero.
It’s stupid to think I could have ignored her for long.
“Didn’t think your brother would allow you anywhere near me.”
Her teeth scrape over her bottom lip, and it’s strangely welcoming to know she’s as anxious as I am.
“Um, he doesn’t.” She releases her lip and manages what’s obviously a forced smile. “Can I come in?”
Am I supposed to say no?
I stand as Serafina enters, scanning the mess in the centre, the mattress, and the tray of food. A small smile graces her face. “Glad they remembered to feed you. And happy you’ve made a mess of this place. Sometimes, Z forgets he isn’t the boss of everyone.”
“Yeah.” What does she want me to say?
What do I want to say? How should I act?
Nowhere in Dimitri’s training was anything about how to react to a newly found half-sister. I haven’t felt this…this… stuck in a long time. Since before Papa’s death and I was a teenager, caught between my fear of him and my self-determination not to let him win every argument.
Is she looking for an apology for Papa’s actions toward her mother? Toward her entire life?
“Look—” I start.
“I wanted to meet you,” she rushes out. “Properly, I mean.” Her hands drop to her sides, fingers pinching the edges of her shorts. “Zeno’s forcing me to go home but I don’t think it’s fair that I go without talking to you first. Like, alone. Finding out I have a half-sibling isn’t exactly how I assumed my day would go.” She rolls onto the balls of her feet and back, her hands moving from her shorts to weaving in front of her. “You didn’t know about me either, I take it?”
“I didn’t know my father had anything to do with your family whatsoever.”
“We have the same eyes.” She stares into mine, unwrapping every level of my control until I’m left useless and bare. “It’s the first thing I noticed.”
We’re alike in that.
Silence falls between us, an awkwardness electrifying the air. I don’t know what to say to this girl, what she wants out of this, and clearly, she doesn’t either.
She rocks on her feet again, a bit of a spark lighting up her gaze. “So you’re the leader of the Russian mafia. That must be pretty cool.”
“The Bratva. I’m called a Pakhan. Yeah, I guess cool is one way to describe it.” Papa would use words like an honour and magnificent but cool also does it.
She nods once slowly, digesting everything. “What’s Russia like?”
“Large,” I feed her that much. “Beautiful in the winter, and lively in the summer.”
“Rome is nice too,” she comments. “Too many tourists. It’s different than my quiet town, but sometimes I like that about it. It’s cool to see the different cultures visiting. Zeno never lets me travel anywhere, so tourists are the only way I’ll experience other places.”
Still, I don’t how to respond.
More silence until once again, she breaks it with her next question.
“I know he’s a bad person, but I’ve been curious too…what was he like?”
Something pounds behind my eyes, infecting my mind with a headache. Fuck, I can’t answer that. Zeno would have my head, and truly, there’s not many positive things I can tell her.
“I mean...” Pink tinges her cheeks. “You were the planned daughter, so he must have been different with you. He would have been around, so what was it like to have a father?”
Oh. Instantly, my heart aches for her. This is less about Papa and more about having that second parent: a male figure in my life. Zeno mentioned that his parents split around the time Serafina was born, which means she probably hardly knew him, if at all.
There’s that saying: the grass is greener on the other side. Sometimes, I dreamed of not having a father at all. Meanwhile, I’m certain at points in her life, Serafina mourned not having one.
“Um,” I glance down, unable to directly look her way, “honestly, I can’t really answer that. Having a father and having him as one was very different, and he wasn’t good, Serafina. He was cruel, and there’s times I wish he was never my father.” I pause, spotting a flash of disappointment lower her disposition, and I don’t know what comes over me with my next question. What wall cracks and allows a bit of openness to slither through. “But I could ask the same to you, about your mother, because mine was killed when I was two.”
She opens her mouth to reply, but Venus’ abrupt rise of her head and low whimper has us both turning toward the door, seconds before Zeno rushes through with such a flurry, the doors nearly fly off the hinges.
He charges at his sister, twisting her toward the door and placing himself between us, as though being a barrier changes anything. With a jab toward the door, he demands, “Leave. Go with Nero.”
Serafina digs her heels into the carpet and shoves her shoulders toward him, trying to break his hold. “No.”
Despite her statement, he glares at me before his arm snaps toward the door again. “Serafina, lascia. Non è tua sorella, a prescindere dal tuo DNA.”
While the translation goes right over my head, given his tone, it didn’t seem pleasant.
Serafina rests her hands on her hips and jerks her chin out. “ She isn’t her father. She didn’t do it. And if you need another reminder, you’re the one who put us together, so fucking deal with it! Madre would be ashamed of you.”
His tan skin flushes to the point it looks sunburnt. “I’m doing what I have to, even if you don’t understand.”
“You’re right, Zeno, I don’t. You treat me like I’m five and can’t handle this, but I can. I’m an adult now, who can make adult decisions.”
Even from feet away, I can hear the click of his jaw as he snaps, “The fact you think that says otherwise. You’re not the average eighteen-year-old, Sera. You’re not like your friends.”
All her gentleness from earlier falls into an expression resembling cold death. “I’m not because of you . You and Madre keep me so protected, like you think I’ll break if a bit of real life touches me. All I did was talk to her .” She gestures toward me. “Yet you’re acting like I’ve committed a crime.”
The two siblings end up in a silent standoff until she sighs, breaking some of the tension.
“You know I love you, fratello , but I couldn’t leave without talking to her, and if you don’t understand why, then that’s something you need to deal with.”
With a final peek at me, she spins on her heel and storms out of the bedroom, disappearing down the hall while Venus jogs after her.
A tense five seconds pass before Zeno slams the door shut and whirls toward me, his presence forcing me back. We complete this dance, me walking backward and him thundering toward me until my back hits the window. If he’s aiming for menacing, to spook me, he’ll be sorely upset soon. His anger will never match Papa’s, so there’s nothing Zeno can do to me that hasn’t already been done.
He presses close enough I can see the green flames sparking to life in his eyes. “What did you say to her?”
“Ask her. I’m not involved in this.”
His hand snaps out and fingers firmly pinch my chin, forcing my face toward him. I don’t fight him this time because I don’t need to. He looks halfway to madness himself without me doing anything.
Zeno may call me a broken queen, but he’s well on his way to becoming a ruined king.