Deceptive Desires: Fooled by Secrets

P A R T - 1

epigraph
"There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn't true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true."

-Søren Kierkegaard

PART I

{ITALY}

I love my father very much. I guess I should say loved, now that he's no longer here, but even something as inevitable as death couldn't stop me from loving him.
My father was a good man. He lived a good life. He smiled through most of it and made others smile too. He loved my mother with every fibre of his being and she loved him back. A love so true, the kind of love poets wrote about. And he loved us, his children. Me and Karan. He never stopped loving us, even after mom died of cancer.

And now I guess he couldn't take it anymore, life without her. Or maybe, his heart problems just caught up with him. But he was gone.

"Alina!" I hear my name and turn around to see none other than my millionaire brother. Millionaire little brother who looked nothing like me walking towards me with a bottle of Grappa in his hands. And a bouquet, but I wasn't looking at that.

"Karan! Oh you came, and you got me a gift! Oh you love me so much, I'll ship you your 'best brother in the world' trophy in the mail on brother's day I promise." I say reaching for the bottle which he moves out of my reach as he shoves the bouquet in my hands.

"I'm impressed with your ability to get drunk with such speed, I mean how are you possibly this drunk, its 10 am in the morning?" He says while handing the Grappa to his 3rd assistant this week.

"Oh don't act like a saint yourself brother, not like you gave it a second thought before fucking the nearest thing with legs and a hole. Your assistant's shirt is inside out." I say glaring at the poor girl, as I snatch the bottle from her hands and watch her as she leaves with flushed cheeks after my brother dismisses her.

"I'm sure you fucked the bartender the chance you got." He says as he looks behind me to the bartender making my 8th? 9th? Negroni of the day. I don't know, I lost count by now.

"No Karan I did not fuck the bartender at my father's funeral." I say replacing the negroni kept on the counter with the bottle of Grappa.
I look at the bartender to make sure he's keeping it in my separate stock of alcohol.

"Mhmm." He hums as if saying 'sure you didn't'. "How are you holding up didi?"
[Hindi- sister(older)]

"I'm fine bhai, don't worry about me. I arranged the funeral in a day didn't I? Sent an announcement to the paper. Everyone is here, everything looks nice."
[Hindi- brother(younger)]

"I never doubted your skill didi . You have 8 degrees, I'd be foolish to doubt you with my feeble little mind and only the 2 degrees I own." He says humorously. "I'll get out of your hair now, go see papa ek baar."  I nod.
[Hindi- sister(older) | ...father once...]

As my brother leaves, my attention is suddenly caught by 4 Italian men in black suits walking to where my father's huge portrait is stationed for people to pay their respects. We don't really do caskets in India.

Something clicks in my mind as I walk towards them.

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Hello beautiful people! I hope you like the first part of the story. I know it's short but what I also know is ur short so shut up. Lol jk jk. No offence in any way to short ppl. Should I delete that comment? Is it too controversial for gen z.  Anyways... don't hesitate to comment, I'm sure I'll love them. :)
Happy reading!