Capo Dei Capi (Secrets of the Famiglia Part 1)

Chapter 53 (Marco)

"Absolutely not!" My father yells from his brown leather chair.

Deno and I are seated on the two front chairs, studying the man who raised us from afar after my

mother's death.

In the last hour, we have explained the situation to him. I told my father about Amariya, who has gone

AWOL. Deno informed him about Lucca, who's now actively looking for Mischa. And lastly, a possible

marriage between Aliyana and myself happening in the near future.

And like we predicted; he wasn't surprised Amariya was gone. He lost his shit about Lucca, calling him

an ungrateful brat and banged his hands on the table. And now, he has refused my marriage to

Aliyana. My father is predictable and a hard-headed man.

"We had an agreement when you came in this door 6-years-ago with the same story about that fucking

woman you met. What was her name?"

"Jane Doe," Deno answers, with a smile as I glare at him. She was a hot woman, and I met her once.

Once was all it took then to have me hooked even though I never did get the woman's name.

"I told you, give me a fucking grandson. Then you can marry whoever the fuck you want. Now you are

what? 34, still no grandkids. I am an old man, I want fuckin' grandkids. Deno is already plotting the

death of his fucking wife. Leonardo is a sick fuck, and Anya, my precious daughter, is more dangerous

than my toughest soldier. Also refusing to marry so she can run her fucking shops. What kind of kids

have I ended up with?"

"I'm sure Leonardo will give you grandkids, soon," Deno states in mocking sarcasm.

"Mischa is part DeMarco and Catelli. Her blood is our blood. We'll protect her like we promised." My

father rubs his hand down his face.

I should feel some remorse right now that he lost a son, and his other son wants to marry his ‘enemy's’

daughter, but I can't find any for him.

He started this shit with Sartini when he gave the man's daughter away to prevent a war.

Now, I am asking to marry Sartini's other daughter to start one.

"You say that like you know something we don't," Deno voices, "Because right now, as we sit here with

you old man, we know that Lucca has got a fuckin' number on Amariya's head. She's gone so deep in Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

hiding I can't even fuckin' find her, and it all comes down to Mischa. He wasn't sure that his baby

survived, but whoever is feeding him shit has made him fucking sure now."

"What does Stephano say about it?" My father asks, becoming alert.

"Whether he wants to acknowledge it or not, Mischa is his only fuckin' heir. I want her to have what is

due to her,” I tell him.

"Gabriel can become head of the family when he's older by all means, but by law, Mischa will inherit

Stephano's fuckin' money, businesses, and his soldiers that comes with it. Lucca is not getting that,"

Deno responds.

"No, he can't have so much power," My father says in a agreement.

"So, if going to war is what we need to do, then so be it. The eye of assassins is a tempting reason for

Marco to marry Camilla, but Dante is wasting our time. Aliyana marrying Marco means he has access

to the Shadows, then that is what we need to do. The shadows are unrivalled and feared by everyone

in the state."

"But, she will still control them, not you. With Camilla, the assassins answer to you." My father points

out something I took into account, and the reason I kept Aliyana as a second option.

"Camilla is heir to a bigger army, but not stronger. Dante is wasting time we don't have. If Lucca finds

out Mischa is his daughter, and we've been hiding her, he will attack. He has a fuckload of allies and

ruthless ones at that." Deno's reasoning makes it all sound logical, but we both know that logic got fuck

all to do with my sudden reason to marry Aliyana.

My father studies Deno, and I see the flicker of pride in his gaze. He faces me, and I know the

circumspection and fear he hides as he stares.

I don't mask the truth on my face, I let him see it.

My father, for all his faults- foolishness and stupidity, is something he has zero of. It takes him a minute

to see the truth my brother has attempted to cover since we walked in the door.

Marcello Catelli is no fool, and I am his son. He frowns as his gaze hardens, and lips tighten.