98 | Unwanted
The next day, the café in New York buzzes with life, the scent of espresso and warm pastries filling the air, sunlight streaming through the windows, casting patterns on the wooden table where I sit.
Chase lounges across from me, his hair mussed, his grin easy.
Luciano's guards, discreet but unmistakable, linger near the door and at a corner table, their presence a quiet reminder of the life we lead.
I'm in a red sweater, my hair loose around my shoulders, journal open, pen resting on the side while Chase is telling some story about his latest business deal, making me laugh.
Therapy's helped me manage my BPD, but Chase and Luciano, they're my anchors, my family, the ones who stayed when the world tried to break me.
Out of nowhere, the café door chimes and my laughter dies down.
Marino Nash, my dad, steps in, his face gaunt, eyes hollow but fixed on me, like a ghost clawing out of my past.
My stomach twists, bile rising, because this monster abused me for years, beat me, tried to kill me, believing I was another man's daughter, not his, until he learned the truth too late.
I had cut him out, burned him from my life, and now he's here, uninvited, unwanted.
Chase stiffens, his hand pausing on his coffee cup, his jaw tight, because he hates Marino too.
"Aurelia," Marino says, his voice pleading as he approaches, ignoring the guards' subtle shift, their hands near their jackets where the gun lays.
"Please, just a minute. I need to talk."
I don't move, my eyes cold, locking on his, no fear, no weakness, just rage, tempered by the strength therapy's given me and by Luciano's love.
"You don't get to talk," I say, my voice steady, sharp, cutting through the café's hum. "You don't get to walk in here like you belong in my life."
Chase leans forward, his voice a growl. "Get out, Marino. You're not welcome here. You never will be."
Marino flinches, but he doesn't leave, his hands trembling as he steps closer, desperation in his eyes.
"Aurelia, I didn't know," he says, his voice breaking. "I thought you weren't mine, that Ciara was my daughter. I was wrong, so wrong. I'm begging you, forgive me..."
I laugh, bitter, hollow, my heart a fortress he'll never breach again.
"Forgive you?" I say, leaning back, my voice like ice.
"Nothing you say will make me forgive you.
You tried to kill me, Marino. So many times ever since I was a little girl, slapping me, locking me in that basement or in my room, starving me, letting Ciara drown me in that pool.
You fucking ruined me, broke me, until I rebuilt myself without you. "
He drops to his knees, right there in the café, his hands clasped like I'm his salvation.
"I was blind," he sobs, voice raw, shaking. "I thought you were his, not mine. When I found out, it killed me. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Let me make it right, please, you're my daughter, my only one."
Chase slams his fist on the table, coffee sloshing, his eyes blazing.
"You don't get to claim her now!" he snaps, standing, towering over Marino. "You tortured her, you bastard. You don't get a second chance just because you fucked up your DNA test and let that witch fool you."
I hold up a hand, stopping Chase because this is mine to finish.
I stand up slowly, my eyes never leaving Marino's, my voice low, lethal.
"You're not my dad, and you never were a father figure to me," I say, each word a blade.
"You're a stranger who hurt me, who tried to fucking kill me, even when I did nothing wrong.
So, you don't get to cry now, don't get to beg, because I don't need a person like you in my life.
Me and Luciano are happy, happier than you could ever understand.
He's my family, Chase is my family, and you? You're nothing."
Marino chokes on a sob, reaching for me, but a guard steps forward, hand on his shoulder, stopping him cold.
"Aurelia, please," he whispers, voice cracking, "I didn't know. Give me a chance to be your father, to fix this."
I step closer, my face inches from his, my voice fueled by years of pain and trauma.
"You had your chance to be my dad, and you chose to break me instead of loving me," I say, unflinching.
"Luciano loves me, builds me up, even though our relationship was unstable in the beginning.
You? You're just a ghost, and I'm done haunting myself with you. Get the fuck out, and don't come back."
My dad kneels there like he knows I'll never forgive him, and he's right. I won't. I don't want him anywhere near the life I rebuilt without him.
My voice suddenly softens into something dangerous, almost a whisper."You should consider running now, Marino Nash. Because if I call my husband, he won't stop at killing you. He'll make you beg for it first."
Chase moves beside me, his hand on my shoulder, supportive, proud.
"You heard her," he says, voice cold. "Leave right now."
Marino stumbles to his feet, tears streaming, his eyes pleading, but I turn away, sitting back down, picking up my pen, dismissing him.
The guards escort him out, the door chiming as he's gone and the café's hum returns, like he was never here.
Chase sits, his grin returning, softer now.
"You okay, sis?" he asks, his voice gentle, checking in.
I nod, smiling, my heart steady, because I am okay, more than okay.