Marcello Mariano
She stood to leave, the legs of her chair scraping against the tile. She hadn't touched the dessert. Just stared at it like it didn't belong on the table, like she didn't.
I rose with her. "When do you want to move in?"
Diana paused, her hand tightening around the strap of her duffle bag. "In two days."
I nodded without hesitation. "Alright."
I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to her. "This is my direct number. Day or night. Use it."
She took it slowly, flipping it once in her fingers. Didn't say thank you, just slipped it into back pocket of her jeans without looking at it again.
She gave a court nod. "I'll be in touch."
And with that, she turned around and walked out of the restaurant. Didn't look back this time.
I watched her go, something heavy and unfamiliar settling in my chest. Not grief. Not guilt. Something else.
Hope, maybe.
I sat back down as Bryan joined me again, sipping the coffee he hasn't touched for an hour.
"Well?" He asked.
I exhaled slowly. "She said two days."
He nodded, expression unreadable. "She doesn't trust you yet."
"I know."
"She might never fully trust you."
"I know that, too."
Bryan leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. His voice was lower now, the way it always got when he was talking about something that actually mattered.
"But she came," he said. "That's something."
I nodded, fingers drumming lightly against the table. "She could've disappeared. She didn't."
Bryan studied me for a second. "What are you thinking about?"
I stared down at the untouched cup in front of me. "That I missed seventeen years of her life," I said quietly. "That some idiot version of me out there, drunk, broken, made her without even knowing it. And now here I am, trying to play father like I've earned that right."
"You didn't know."
"But I do now."
I looked out the window, watched the blur of traffic and people moving past, like the world hadn't just shifted on its axis.
"She's strong," I added. "Smart. Cautious. You think she got that from me?" I ask him humorously.
Bryan smirked faintly. "Well...she definitely got your mismatched eyes."
"Yeah." I said.
"You gonna tell the boys?"
"Of course. I need to figure out how to explain this without Damien making joke out of this and Larusso disappearing into his room."
"And Killian?"
I shook my head. "Killain's watching. He sees more than he says."
"Sounds like someone else i know."
I huffed out a breath, that was almost a laugh. "She said no guards. No pretending."
"You think she'll stay?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But I'm not letting her walk away again without trying."
Bryan nodded, his buzzed head catching the light. The scar that cut across his face looked sharper under the fluorescent glow. A reminder of what we'd both been through. What we'd both lost.
"She's got fire." He said.
"She's got something," I murmured. "Now let's see if I can be the man she needs me to be."
Bryan didn't answer. He just stood, clapped me once on the shoulder and walked out.
I stayed a few minutes longer. Thinking. Planning. Dreading.
Two days.
Then everything changes.
-
By the time I got back to the mansion, the sky had gone dark, and the air was thick with the smell of rain and the low rumble of thunder in the distance. It was going to pour, one of those quiet, relentless storms that don't ask for permission. Fitting, really.
I didn't call the boys into my office. I wanted this to be direct, no grand speeches, no hierarchy. I found them where they always ended up around this hour: The Gaming Room.
Killian was leaned against the pool table, half focused on his phone. Damien was on the couch with his feet up, eating from a bowl of popcorn like it was a movie night. Larusso was by the window, headphones half off, sketchpad balanced on his knee. They all looked up when I stepped in.
"Family meeting," I said. "Now."
Killian straightened. Larusso immediately set his pencil down. Damien groaned, dramatically tossing popcorn at the ceiling like I'd ruined his vacation.
"Your guys aren't in trouble," I added. "But this is serious."
I didn't sit. Just stood there and looked at each of them in turn.
"I found her."
There was a beat of silence. No one asked who I meant. They all knew.
Killian's brow furrowed. Larusso's lips parted, eyes flickering with something like surprise. Damien sat up a little straighter, one hand pausing mid-air with popcorn still in it.
"Diana." I clarified. "She exists. She's real. She's seventeen."
Killian nodded once, slowly. No surprise, he'd been with me the night we tried to talk to her the first time. He kept his face unreadable, cataloging, measuring.
Damien blinked. "Wait-what? Are you serious?"
"You're the only one who sent Larusso's toothbrush to that ancestor website." I reminded him.
"Yeah, but, damn, I was just trying to mess with him. I didn't think..." He ran a hand through his hair eyes wide. "You're telling me I accidentally uncovered a secret sibling?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you."
"That is so messed up." Damien muttered. "Cool though. But messed up."
Larusso was quiet. Still as stone.
"She agreed to come stay with us," I said, voice firm. "In two days."
Damien's eyes lit up. "She's actually coming to stay here?"
"She made it very clear she has conditions. No hovering. No fake bonding. No pressure. And this is the part I want you all to hear clearly. No mafia talk. At. All. No guns lying around. No offhand comments about hits or protection."
The room went dead quiet.
Damien blinked. "Wait, you want us to pretend we're-what, some normal billionaire family?"
"Yes."
"But we're-"
"I know exactly what we are," I snapped. "And I'm telling you, she doesn't know that part. I don't want her to."
Killian frowned. "And you're sure she doesn't at least suspect?"
"She knows my name from the legal business. The real estate. The front. Not what's behind it."
Larusso shifted uneasily. "You're going to lie to her?"
"No." I said, firm. "But I'm not handing her a loaded gun and a bloodstained resume either. If she ever finds out, it won't be because one of you thought it was funny to drop hints. Got it?"
They all nodded, slowly.
"Im serious," I said, looking at each of them in turn. "No weapons out in the open. No violent stories. No business around her. We keep that life outside the gates when she's here."
Killian gave a slow nod. "You're trying to protect her."
"I'm trying to give her a chance," I said. "To breath. To feel safe. To not get sucked into something she didn't ask for."
"She's your daughter." Larusso said quietly.
"Yeah," I murmured." She is."
Damien leaned back, exhaling through his nose. "Okey. So...no mafia talk. No guns. No jokes. No pressure. And we pretend we're a normal family."
"Exactly."
He smirked. "We're going to blow this in the first five minutes."
Killian didn't respond. He just watched me with that unreadable expression of his, arms crossed like he was weighing my words.
"I mean it," I said again. "You screw this up for her and you answer to me."
That shut Damien up.
I took a deep breath and stepped back toward the doorway.
"She's not just some lost kid," I added. "She's part of this family now. If we want her to stay, we treat her like it, on her terms."
"Sounds like a dream houseguest." Damien muttered.
"She's not a guest!" I snapped, sharper than I meant to. "She's your sister."
That silenced the room.
Killian spoke first. "Is she angry?"
I shook my head. "No. Not angry. Just... Careful. She doesn't trust me. Doesn't trust us."
"She has every right not to." Killian said simply.
I looked at him. That cold bluntness, he got that from me. I hate when it was reflected back at me like a mirror.
"I want you all to give her space," I said. "Let her find her footing here. Don't push. Don't pry."
"And what if she doesn't want to have anything to do with us?" Larusso asked quietly.
I looked at him. Really looked and saw something in his eyes I hadn't expected. Worry. Hesitation.
"She's still part of this family. Even if it takes her time to feel it."
"Seventeen years is a lot of time." He said under his breath."
"Yeah," I said. "It is."
Damien stood and stretched like we'd just finished a board meeting. "So, what's the plan? We give her the guest wing and pretend nothing's weird?"
"Damien-"
"I'm just saying, it's a lot to drop on someone."
"I know it is," I said. "That's why we don't drop anything else. No jokes. No 'tests'. Just be her brothers. Or at least don't be obstacles."
Killian gave a nod. "I'll stay out of her way."
Larusso mumbled something I didn't catch.
Damien exhaled. "Okey. Yeah. We'll behave. You've got your serious voice on, so I know you mean it."
I looked at each of them again, slower this time.
"She's been through hell," I said. "She grew up in the system. She's been alone her whole life. If we're lucky, we can be part of her future. But if you make her feel like she's a burden- or worse, a stranger. I swear to god I will make you regret it."
They all went still.
Then Killian broke the silence." We'll do our part."
Just as I was walking out the door, I heard Damien mutter. "Can we at least figure out if she's cooler than Killian?"
Killian didn't even look at him. "Unlikely."
I closed the door behind me before I could let them see the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
They were idiots. But they were mine.
And in two days. So would she be, if I don't screw it all up.