★★Mariella's POV★★
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It's a bright, summery morning, the kind that makes the city hum with energy. The heat is already settling in as I sit at a small café in NYC, sipping an iced latte and waiting for Luna—my best friend and childhood partner in crime. The café is cozy, its bell chiming softly every time someone walks in. I found this place online and figured it was the perfect spot for a reunion.
The bell rings again, and I glance up. There she is. The second I see that golden blonde hair, I already know. Luna bursts through the door, her face lighting up the moment she spots me. She's draped in a dark blue leather jacket, a short black skirt, and a black bodysuit that hugs her like a second skin. Knee-high boots complete the look.
Wait. Are those my boots?
Whatever.
"Oh my God!" she squeals, causing a few heads to turn. Before I know it, I'm on my feet, running to meet her. We hug like we haven't seen each other in years, squealing and jumping like teenagers.
"Girl, it's been forever!" Luna says, holding me at arm's length.
"You look amazing!" I reply, grinning ear to ear.
Once we're done with our mini-reunion performance, we glance around the café and realize the entire place is dead silent.
Everyone is staring at us.
"Sorry!" I say quickly, flashing them an apologetic smile. Luna just laughs as we make our way back to the table.
"So," I say, settling into my seat, "how are you, bitch?"
"I'm so good! And you? Last I heard, you were in Brazil." She narrows her eyes at me in mock annoyance.
I laugh, knowing exactly why she's giving me that look. "Oh, I just got back a few weeks ago. I've been swamped catching up on work."
She rolls her eyes playfully. "Of course you have. But wait—guess what!"
Her excitement is contagious. I lean forward eagerly. "Tell me!"
"I got the spot!" she says, practically vibrating with happiness.
"No fucking way." My jaw drops. "No fucking way!" I repeat, this time louder. A few annoyed glances come my way, but I couldn't care less.
Luna beams, her excitement matching mine. She's been training for months with the U.S. Navy Blue Angels, pushing herself harder than I've ever seen. It's been her dream for years. The Blue Angels are an elite flight demonstration team known for performing jaw-dropping aerial stunts and precision flying at airshows. Luna's been working nonstop, and I know how much this means to her.
"I can't believe it," I say, shaking my head in awe. "You're officially a Blue Angel! That's insane, Luna!"
"It's crazy, right?" she says, leaning in like she's about to share a secret. "I honestly didn't think I'd get it. The competition was brutal, but... I did it!"
"I'm so proud of you!" I say, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.
We spend the next hour catching up, laughing, and talking like no time has passed. She tells me all about the grueling training process, and I fill her in on my latest adventures.
Couple hours later, we make our way back to my penthouse, still chatting and laughing as the elevator glides smoothly to the top floor. The hum of the city below feels miles away, replaced by the quiet anticipation of being home.
When the soft ding of the elevator signals our arrival and the doors slide open, we step out onto the marble floor. But I freeze mid-step, holding up a hand to signal Luna to be quiet.
Something's off.
Voices and the faint sound of rustling drift from the kitchen down the hall. My muscles tense as my instincts kick in. Without hesitation, I pull my gun from the inside of my leather jacket, the cold steel a familiar comfort in my grip.
I push Luna behind me with a firm but gentle hand, shielding her as we move quietly down the hall.
Seriously? Who ever managed to break in.
I'm not in the mood, dude.
The voices grow clearer as we approach the kitchen. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through me, sharpening my senses. I raise the gun to eye level, ready for anything.
I glance back at Luna, giving her a quick, meaningful look to be prepared. I don't need to say a word—she's already alert, her body poised for action. I begged her to train with me for moments like this, and I know she can handle herself if things go sideways.
We move silently, our steps feather-light on the hardwood floor. When we reach the corner leading to the kitchen, I pause, taking a deep breath to steady myself. My grip tightens on the gun.
In one swift motion, I whip around the corner, gun aimed, finger on the trigger—
"Per l'amor di dio! (For the love of god!)" I yell annoyed.
I nearly drop my weapon as I register the scene before me.
Enzo and Santino are standing in the kitchen, casually making breakfast. Enzo has a frying pan in one hand, flipping pancakes like it's Sunday brunch, while Santino leans against the counter, sipping coffee and scrolling through his phone.
Both of them freeze when they see me, their eyes wide.
Like a child caught stealing candy.
"Che cazzo state facendo? (What the fuck are you two doing?)" I demand, lowering my gun but keeping my glare sharp.
"Making breakfast," Enzo says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, gesturing to the sizzling pan in his hand.
"Without telling me, I thought you were back home?" I snap, my heart still racing from the scare.
Santino shrugs, taking another sip of his coffee. "You weren't answering your phone. Figured we'd let ourselves in. Besides, you gave us the code."
I rub my temple, exhaling sharply. "I gave you the code for emergencies, not for breakfast club meetings. Brutti stronzi. (You ugly fucks)."
Luna peeks around the corner, lowering her guard as she takes in the scene. Her lips twitch like she's trying not to laugh.
Enzo grins, flipping another pancake onto a plate. "Relax, Mari. You're welcome to join us. We made extra."
Santino raises his mug in mock toast. "Coffee's fresh."
"We just came back from a café," I say, my tone flat. My eyes flick to the pancake on the plate, and I wrinkle my nose. "Anyways, I don't want your burnt pancake." Crossing my arms, I shoot it another disgusted look. "I've had better, trust me."
Santino raises a brow, feigning offense. "And you didn't bring us any food back? Wow, Mari, unbelievable."
"Yeah, unbelievable," Enzo chimes in, waving the spatula dramatically. "All that delicious café food, and you didn't think of us? Heartless."
Luna steps out from behind me, finally letting out a laugh. "Honestly, I thought we were about to walk into a full-blown ambush. And it's just...well... burnt pancakes."
Enzo winks at her and smirks. "Pancakes can be dangerous if you're not careful."
Yep, I can see that.
"Get out of my kitchen," I mutter, but there's no heat in my voice.
Luna grabs a plate off the counter with a sly grin, sliding into the conversation with ease. "Not until I try one of these famous pancakes," she says mockingly, emphasizing the word.
Enzo narrows his eyes playfully, holding up the spatula like a weapon. "Mock all you want, Luna, but once you try one, you'll be begging for the recipe."
"Sure, sure," Luna replies, smirking as she takes a seat and inspects the pancake like it's a rare artifact. "Let's see if these pancakes live up to all the hype."
As we all sit around the dining table, the atmosphere settles into an odd mix of tension and familiarity. Enzo and Santino are eating like they haven't seen food in days, the sound of clinking forks and quiet chewing filling the room.
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms, and decide to break the silence. "So, are you guys planning to keep inhaling my food, or are you finally going to tell me why you're here?"
Santino pauses mid-bite and looks at me, feigning confusion. "What? Can't your baby brother not drop by to hang out with his dear older sister?" He smirks, his tone dripping with mock innocence.
I smirk back, matching his energy, and roll my eyes. "Right. Because you're known for your random sibling bonding trips," I retort sarcastically.
Enzo, ever the serious one, takes a sip of his protein shake before cutting in. "Father sent us," he says matter-of-factly. "He wanted to make sure you're okay since you decided to come here without any guards. Especially Giovanni."
At the mention of Giovanni, I groan, leaning my head back in exasperation. Giovanni is my personal bodyguard, a constant shadow who takes his job way too seriously. But his constant hovering was getting under my skin, so I told him to take some time off. Naturally, I left for New York without telling him—or anyone else, for that matter.
"Mi stai prendendo in giro, vero? (You've got to be kidding me,)" I say, dragging my hands down my face. "He sent you all the way from Italy for this? Seriously?"
Santino shrugs, popping another bite of pancake into his mouth. "You know how he is. When you disappear without a word, it sets him off. He wanted to be sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."
I scoff. "Dead in a ditch? I was gone for, what, a couple of weeks? You guys could've, I don't know, FaceTimed me instead of flying across the ocean."
Enzo arches a brow, unimpressed. "FaceTime? You? The woman who rarely answers her phone and leaves everyone on read? Be serious."
I narrow my eyes at him. "I answer... sometimes."
"Sure you do," Santino chimes in with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.
Luna, who's been silently watching the exchange with amused curiosity, finally speaks up. "You know, this is kind of sweet. Overbearing and dramatic, but sweet."
I roll my eyes at her too. "Sweet isn't the word I'd use."
Enzo leans forward, his tone softening slightly. "Look, we're here now, Mariella. Father was worried, and so were we. If you want us to leave, just say the word."
I exhale sharply, my irritation ebbing slightly. They're annoying, sure, but they mean well. "Fine. You can stay. But don't think I'm letting this go."
Santino grins, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "Un brindisi alle riunioni di famiglia! (Cheers to family reunions!)"
We all give him the side-eye, our expressions a mix of amusement and disbelief. Santino looks around, clearly confused by the lack of enthusiasm. "Alright, fuck me then," he mutters, before shrugging it off and continuing to eat, the sound of his fork scraping against his plate filling the awkward silence.
Enzo leans back as he finishes his food, crossing his arms as he takes a slow sip of his coffee. His sharp eyes narrow on me, his expression unreadable.
"What are you even doing here, Mari?" he finally says, setting his cup down with a quiet clink. "You've always been sneaking off to random places. It's odd."
Shit.
I keep my face neutral, not letting an ounce of guilt slip through. "Why can't I?" I say smoothly, tilting my head with faux innocence. "I'm mature and old enough to explore the world, right?"
Lies.
They hate it when I disappear, especially to places they can't control. They worry. I'm the reckless one in the family, and leaving Italy—moving to NYC—has them constantly on edge. I know it. I just don't care.
Just as Enzo opens his mouth to press me further, I act fast.
I grab Luna's hand, yanking her up before she can protest. "I heard the Blue Dior Oblique Jacquard just came out. Let's go check it out," I say, my tone light and breezy, like I haven't just dodged a bullet.
Luna barely has time to react as I scoop up our things and make a beeline for the door. Behind me, I hear Enzo sigh, shaking his head, but I don't slow down.
I know him too well. Once he gets too curious, he won't let it go. And if Enzo keeps pushing, he'll find out the real reason I left Italy. The real reason I'm here.
And I can't have that.
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The brotherly love is too cute.
Tbh my brother acts like that
*What's something annoying your siblings do?*
Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ
Maddie♡