Live A Little

Ch 16 : Revenge

This picture is so them in the parking ^

Nicolo P.O.V (Dad)

Being a father and being a Dad are two different things. Never would I have imagined that my heart would ignite with joy at the utterance of three simple letters, as my daughter called me Dad. I sit in my office, eyes closed, immersing myself in this moment, etching it into my memory.

My smile fades as Marco enters my office. "What was that?" I question my son. 

"Of course, like always, I am to blame", he retorts with a scoff. I wait for him to continue. Marco was the quiet one when their mother was with us. Always reading, peaceful, and abhorring violence. He detested it when Alex was mean to Vince (Vincenzo) or when they used to swear. Amid my own heartbreak and problems, I failed to notice the transformation of Marco.

I was too engrossed in my own pain to notice my sons suffering. Marco morphed into everything he despised - violent, rude, and loud. Yet, to this day, I still catch glimpses of the old Marco, who used to smile at every little thing. He transitioned from a boy who was always smiling to one who had forgotten how to smile. Marco, who once believed crying was akin to a cloud releasing rain, became a Marco who mastered the art of concealing his tears from everyone. My son, who despised anger and would always seek solace in me when he was sad, now distanced himself to find peace and alleviate his pain, a pain he blamed Alora for.

"She spent so many years with mother, didnt she? So, why is she playing the victim? Mother left everyone for her she left me for her", Marco whispered, his eyes welling up, causing my heart to fracture a little.

"Marco, you relished your childhood, never had to worry about money. You never had to ask for anything because your brothers and I would fulfill your wishes before you could voice them. You did everything you wanted, joined the mafia because you chose to. You didn't live in fear, pain, or poverty, I continued, gauging his reaction. But that's you. I know how you lived. Alex knows how you lived", I paused as Marco nodded.

"Do we know how Alora lived?" I questioned, watching him tense at my query. "We don't. We don't know if she had everything or if she enjoyed her childhood. We don't even know if she lived at all. We don't know if she had to reuse all her things because she couldn't afford new ones, we don't even know if she was abused or not, I concluded with a heavy sigh. We don't know anything at all, so how can you blame her without knowing if she was truly happy all these years?" I asked, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. "Apologize to her", I instructed as Elias barged in. This kid was getting too comfortable with me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, silently questioning his presence. He gives me a smile, breaking my stern facade as I reciprocate. "Who is he apologizing to?" Elias asked with a chuckle. "Alora", I replied as his smile vanished, making me narrow my eyes. "Oh, well then you should", he responded awkwardly. "Whats going on between you and Alora?" I asked before Marco could say anything. Elias stiffened, which clearly didnt go unnoticed by Marco as he looked at his best friend with a questioning gaze.

"Well, we don't really get along too well", he whispered, fiddling with his hands, avoiding my gaze. "Ah! You two hate each other", Marco claimed, following Elias as he left. I sighed, I wasn't even finished talking, but a question that bothered me was why Elias and Alora hated each other so much. Did I miss something? I shook my head and headed to bed. I planned on continuing the conversation Marco and I left unfinished. I changed and lay in bed as I drifted into a darkness that was becoming all too familiar.

"DAD", a voice yelled, making me turn to the other side, but before I could react, I was catapulted off and landed on the cold hard floor. Rubbing my forehead, I sat up as my kids barged in. Since when did knocking become obsolete? "Since when do you sleep on the floor, Dad?" Bruno asked, earning a glare from me.