Diana Mirabella Kaiser
I didn't stop running until my lungs burned.
By the time, I reached the old gym on fifth- long since abandoned, locked, forgotten, my hands were numb and my legs ached. I slipped through the side entrance like I'd done a hundred times before, heart still pounding from more than just the sprint.
Inside, the dust clings to the air. The windows were high and cracked, casting fractured moonlight across the floor. I collapsed onto an overturned crate in the corner, dropped my duffle at my feet and let the silence wrap around me.
My mind wouldn't shut up.
He said he was my father.
I laughed, bitter and sharp.
My hands were shaking. I hated that.
I hated feeling anything at all.
He's just a business man. Some corporate shark who's bored or guilty or ... or worse, maybe he needs something from me.
Whatever it was, I didn't want it.
But somehow he'd found me.
And if he did... others could too.
I stayed there for what must've been hours. Long enough for the ache in my muscles to fade and the silence to start pressing in again. I didn't cry. I never cry. Not anymore.
Before I know it my eyes closed and sleep overtook me.
-
Saturday the 6th of April, 2024, 2pm.
It took them two days to find me.
Not bad, honestly. I'd made it harder for people with badges and trackers. But I guess when you're Marcello Mariano, CEO of some multibillion-everything empire, you don't look, you send someone.
And that someone was standing in front of me.
"Diana."
I didn't look up from the bench I was sitting on. The park was half empty, sun low, and I was halfway through a warm sandwich I didn't even want. I chewed slowly, deliberately, just to be annoying.
"Names Bryan," he said. "Marcello's ... oldest friend. I'm not here to drag you anywhere." He said, like he knew I was two seconds from bolting. "Marcello just wants a conversation. That's it."
I finally looked up." What, couldn't schedule a video conference?"
His lips twitched. "He thought that might come across as... impersonal."
I snorted. "Right. Because surprise home invasions are so heartfelt."
Bryan didn't argue. Smart guy.
I stood and brushed crumbs off my hoodie. "Tell him I'm not interested."
I started walking away.
"Fair," Bryan called after me. "But you've been sleeping behind gyms and eating gas station junk for two days. You're smart, Diana. I think you know it's safer to hear him out. "
I stopped.
Not because he was right. Not because I was scared.
But because I was curious.
"...Fine," I muttered, turning back. "But if he tries anything, I'm flipping the table."
"Understood."
The restaurant he picked was quiet. Not flashy, not fancy, but definitely the kind of place where napkins came in cloth and people spoke in hushed tones.
I slouched in my chair like I was allergic to table manners. Bryan sat across from me, sipping a coffee like this was normal.
Ten minutes later, Marcello walked in.
He wasn't wearing a suit this time. Just a dark sweater and a coat, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning until they landed on me. His gaze softened, not like he pitied me, but like he recognized something.
Like he saw something in me that looked a little too familiar.
"Diana." He said.
I waved a hand lazily. "Congratulations. You found the stray. "
He didn't smile. Didn't scold me for the sarcasm either. He just sat down beside Bryan and looked at me like I was a real person. Like I wasn't some accident.
"I appreciate you coming." He said quietly.
I leaned back. "I didn't come for you. I came for food and answers. Don't get those confused."
He gave a slow nod, like he respected that.
"I didn't know about you," he said after a moment. "Not until recently, your mother... she never told me."
I studied him.
"I figured as much," I said. "If you'd known, I'd have grown up in a mansion instead of an orphanage, right."
He looked down, jaw tense. "If I'd known... I would've fought to keep you safe. You have to believe that."
I did. Oddly, I did. I don't know why.
Maybe because his voice didn't shake. Maybe because he wasn't begging for forgiveness, just offering the truth.
I looked at him, really looked. One green eye, the other a stormy grey. Familiar. The same kind I saw in the mirror when I wasn't avoiding it.
"What do you want from me." I asked.
He folded his hands on the table." Nothing. Just ...time. A chance to explain who I am. And maybe who you are too."
That one caught me off guard.
"I think I already know who I am." I said
"Maybe," he said. "But you don't know where you came from."
I went quiet.
He leaned forward, like he wasn't sure how much was too much.
"I have three sons," he said." Killian, Damien and Larusso. You're their sister."
"Half." I corrected automatically.
"Yes. Half." He didn't argue.
I raised an eyebrow." They know about me?"
"They do now," he said." It's been... a process. For all of us."
"I bet." I stirred my drink, keeping my face neutral. "Must be a riot finding out your dad's got a secret daughter from a one-night stand."
He smiled faintly, almost bitter." You'd be surprised how complicated our lives already were."
"I'm not," I said flatly. "You're Marcello Mariano. People like you breathe complication."
Bryan cleared his throat, maybe to defuse the tension, but Marcello didn't seem bothered. He looked at me like I wasn't something he regretted, more like something he missed. Even though he'd never had me.
I hated how that made my chest feel tight.
Marcello broke the silence. "I'm not asking for anything today, Diana. Not thrust. Not forgiveness. Just... a chance to talk again. When you're ready."
I didn't answer right away. I stared at the table, tracing the rim of my glass with a fingertip.
Part of me wanted to bolt.
Another part, a quieter part, didn't.
So I shrugged." We'll see."
His expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes relaxed, like that tiny bit of passiveness in me was enough.
I don't know how long we sat there.
The food had gone cold. Bryan had gone quiet. The world outside was starting to dim into twilight, the windows turning silver grey.
But Marcello kept talking, not in the rehearsed way I expected, but like he was reaching into memories and pulling pieces he wasn't used to sharing.
He told me about his sons. Killian, the oldest, all leadership and control. Damien, the middle one, sharp and unpredictable. And Larusso, the youngest, quieter, observant.
He spoke like a man wo loved them but wasn't always sure how to show it. Like a father who'd spent years trying to build something unbreakable after everything else in his life has shattered.
"You remind me of them," he said at one point. "But not completely. You've got your own fire."
"Great," I said. "I'll ad that to my résumé. Emotionally unstable, stray with fire."
He chuckled. "You're not a stray, Diana."
"Sure feels like it."
He leaned forward, folding his hands together." I want you to come stay with us. At the estate."
I froze.
There it was.
The offer.
The invitation.
The trap.
I stared at him. "You mean the palace hills with the private security and the actual staff?"
"Yes."
"Yeah. No."
Marcello didn't blink. "It's safer. You'd have your own room. No expectations, no rules you don't agree to. Just... a place to land."
I scoffed. "I've been landing just fine on my own for seventeen years."
"And I'm offering you something different."
"Why."
He was quiet for a second.
Then he said. "Because I missed the first seventeen years of your life, and I can't live with missing what's left of it too."
That one cracked something in me.
Not all the way. Not deep enough to bleed. But enough to let the silence settle between us like smoke.
I locked at him. Really locked.
He wasn't lying.
No begging, no bargaining, just being honest and annoyingly patient.
I exhaled.
"I don't do family dinners." I said
"Noted."
"I come and go when I want. No curfews."
"Reasonable."
"I don't want your money. I'm not some charity project."
"You're my daughter."
I flinched, just slightly. That word still felt like a foreign object stuck on my skin.
"And if your sons hate me," I added. "That's their problem, not mine.
"I'll talk to them," he said. "But you don't need their approval to exist."
I stared down at my nails. My pulse was steady, but my thoughts weren't.
It wasn't that I wanted to go.
A part of me, a very small, very buried part, wanted to know what it felt like to be ... wanted.
Even if it was late. Even if it was complicated.
"...Okey," I said finally. "I'll come. But on my terms."
He nodded slowly. "Agreed."
"I mean it. The second I feel caged, I'm gone."
He gave ma a look that almost resembled pride. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
I sat back in the booth and folded my arms, eyes narrowed.
"Okey, but I'm still not getting something." I said. "How did you even get one of those ancestry websites? What made you -or your sons- even think to try that?"
Marcello sighed like he knew this part wouldn't help their case.
"That wasn't me," he said, voice leveled. "It was Damien. He and Larusso had an argument- nothing serious, just typical brother nonsense. Damien thought it'd be hilarious to submit a DNA test in Larusso's name. He stole his toothbrush and sent it in behind his back."
I blinked. "Wait-What? You're telling me I'm here because your middle kid pulled a prank on the youngest?"
"Unfortunately... Yes."
I stared at him. "So this wasn't some emotional quest to find a long lost daughter. It was a joke gone wrong."
Marcello didn't flinch. "It stopped being a joke the second your name came up."
I let that sink in.
"That's so messed up." I said, mostly to myself. "You people really live in a different universe."
Bryan, who had stayed quiet, just studied me with that unreadable face of his, buzzed blond hair, ice blue eyes, and that scar that cut down from brow to cheek, like a slash of unfinished business.
Marcello continued. "When we saw the result, I had the lab rerun it. Twice. I didn't believe it at first."
"And now?" I asked.
He looked at me squarely. "Now I do."
My mouth felt dry. I wasn't sure why I even asked any of this. Part of me just wanted to hear how ridiculous the whole thing was. Another part... maybe wanted to believe someone did follow a trail, any trail, to find me.
Even if it started as a prank.
I let out a breath and leaned back.
"Wow," I muttered. "So I'm here because of a stolen toothbrush."
Marcello gave a thoughtful nod. "Life is strange that way."
"No kidding."