Enemies to lovers with a family twist!
Alora Frank has been living her life under the abuse of her mother and father. Hiding secrets and unimaginable pain behind her perfect smile. Except one day she finds her father isn't her father, she had family...
Remember when I hoped things wouldn't get crazier? Well, they did. Let me recap.
(In the car before reaching the police station)
"So, Alora, right?" Another officer questioned.
"Yes, and you are?" I retorted.
"I'm Jason," he responded.
"Here, kid, take some candy. It's going to be okay," Laura offered, handing me an assortment of chocolates.
"I'm 17, not 7, but thanks," I replied.
Upon reaching the police station, they immediately ushered me into a dim room filled with files, desks, and chairs.
"So, let's do a DNA test to see if you have any relatives. If not, then you have to go to foster care," Laura proposed.
"Alright," I agreed, knowing I had no relatives. So, foster care, here I come.
The doctors arrived and took my blood and hair samples. And then, we waited.
Fast forward to two days later...
It's been two days since the DNA test, and today the results come back. I've been living in a room they provided at the police station. It's decent, not too bad, but not too good either.
"Come on, sweetie!" Laura called, entering my room.
I stepped outside where everyone was gathered to hear the results. "Congratulations, we found your father. He lives in Italy," the doctor announced.
"My what? My father is in jail, I think you forgot," I responded, confused.
"Oh, sweetie, that was your stepfather. Didn't your mother tell you?" Laura clarified.
So, I have a father now.
"And he's coming here in a little while," Laura added.
I looked at her, surprised. "Why?" I asked Laura.
"Um... because he's your dad," she answered awkwardly.
What just happened? So, the man I've known my whole life is not my father, and some random dude is, and he lives in Italy. Well, that's a plus point, but still.
Okay, okay, I got this.
Not okay, not okay.
He can't know about my past. He can't know about that or them. I tried to mentally prepare myself. I couldn't help but feel a little scared.
"Take some rest. He will be here in a few hours, probably," Laura suggested, snapping me back to reality.
"Okay," I replied, walking away from her. He can't know anything. I couldn't help but wonder, will he be good or the same as my mother?
Nicolo's P.O.V
I stood outside the police station where my daughter currently was.
Will she like me? Does she want to come with me?
I never would have imagined a big, bad mafia boss scared to speak to a little girl.
I sighed and made my way inside the station. Bruno wasn't smiling anymore. We had to maintain a cold facade in front of people.
"There you are. I'm Laura; we talked on the phone," I heard a blonde woman approaching us.
"Yes, where is my daughter?" I asked, looking around impatiently.
"She's inside, but first, come and sign the legal documents," Laura instructed.
After I finished signing the documents, we followed Laura into a small room. It was painted white and had a small desk.
Just as Laura left to get more papers, Bruno's phone started to ring. I told him to put it on speaker.
"What color should we paint the walls in her room?" Marco grumbled.
"You really don't know what to do, do you, bro?" Bruno replied.
"You wanna tell me or not? Because if I picked, her room would look like a haunted house, and dad would bury me alive. So, talk," Marco demanded coldly.
"Okay, okay, what would you do without me? Make the color combo a mix of grey, black, dark blue, and a touch of white," Bruno suggested.
Marco hung up the phone.
"See, Dad, he is rude as hell," Bruno complained to me.
"Language, kid," I reminded him.
"Why is he like this?" Bruno sighed. That's the same question I've been asking myself ever since he was born.
Laura returned with the sheet of paper, and I signed them quickly, eager to meet my daughter. After that was done, she led me to a small room.
"She's inside," Laura informed with a smile, leaving to give us privacy.
Bruno quickly opened the door, and there she was, my little girl. My daughter. My blood. She was sitting in a chair, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. I cleared my throat loudly, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked at us with wide eyes.
"Hi, um... My name is Alora," she introduced herself in the softest and politest way I've ever heard.
"My name is Nicolo, but you can call me Dad if you feel like it. If not, you can just call me Bro or Dude, but don't call me Bro 'cause, you know," I rambled. Shut up, please.
She looked confused but then looked away and stared at Bruno silently.
"I am Bruno, the youngest of your brothers. Come, let's head out so we are not late," Bruno said in a soft and excited tone.
Alora nodded and got up with her backpack.
"Where are your clothes?" I asked her.
"This is all I have," she replied, looking down.
"That's okay; we can go shopping," Bruno interjected.
With that, we made our way towards the car outside. I couldn't help but smile as I looked over at my daughter. I don't care who sees me smile at my daughter. My daughter.
Authors note
Hiii guys! How are you today? Opinions??
Have a great day/night
Quote for today:
Memories don't die when possibilities do, they morph into pain... pain you have to feed or fight.
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