Marissa Riva is the Italian mafia princess. She has been missing since she was 4. Kidnapped by her own mother.
The Riva family was mentally destroyed after her disappearance.
Then the father was gone too.
Leaving the six brothers with no hope, bro...
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I finally felt like I am breathing when I sat in front of the fireplace with a glass of bourbon in my hand. Everyone is sleeping and Ace chose to stay with me in my room, I was surprised with the immediate trust but I'm relieved and grateful since our first encounter wasn't the best to say at least. I'm still not understanding what's happening. The fact that Marissa is back and I have a son and the Blade clan is gonna come back. It all happened so fucking fast and at the same time.
I wish that Marissa came with me tonight. I have spent nearly six years trying to miss her less, to love her less, to think about her less, to want her less... but with every passing minute without me seeing her, feeling her, having her, I just miss her more, I just love her more, I just think about her more and I just want her way way more.
"Blake?" I turned my head to find a small figure standing in the middle of the living room. I still can't process the fact that I have a son, a mini me, he looks too much like me. I don't think I have ever wanted kids but Ace, maybe because he's my kid so I'm kinda obligated to want him, to love him but no, we have a connection, he is special. He walked up to me before he sat on the arm chair next to mine.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" I asked him.
"I can't sleep when the people around me are awake." He responded. "I like this colour." He said looking at the fire. "It's fire, so it's red. I like this shade of grey."
I smiled at him. I feel bad for him for not seeing the colours, the fact that he can't see the sunset or the sunrise... And I know that there are lenses and glasses and stuff like that that can make him see colours but... I don't know.
"I don't think I ever want to see what the fire really looks like. Or any colour actually." He said surprising me.
"Why? Aren't you curious?" I asked him. He didn't get that from his mother, she's the most curious person ever.
"Uncle Matteo told me that colours are loud and bright and too much. The colours I see are calming, organised, nice."
"Not all colours are loud, for exemple, there are pastel colours." I told him. "Those are gentle. But if you ask me, they are not my favourite."
"What's your favourite colour?" I don't think I was ever asked that question before. I don't think I have ever thought about it either.
"Not blue, but the colour of the ocean. Not yellow, but the colour of the sun when it's setting. Not white, but the colour of the stars. Not black, but the colour of the night sky."
"Hmm." He hummed before chuckling slightly. "I didn't understand anything of what you just said. Because you know... I don't know the colour of the ocean or the sun or the stars." I chuckled.
