Amara

Chapter 24 - Books

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"My darling, you hold so much sadness in your eyes, I can almost touch the scars of your soul and cry."

– Alexandra Vasiliu

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Third Person POV:

Sat in his bedroom, his hands covering his face. A large sigh escapes his lungs. A moment later he glances over to the table at his bedside. His arm moved away from his face towards the handle of the draw. The sound of wood sliding over is the only noise that can be heard. Slowly the Italian picks up a golden case, engraved with the initials 'CA'. His father's initials.

He clicks the case open, the inside is lined with several rows of cigarettes. Again reaching into the shallow wooden draw, this time picking up a matching lighter. Again the same initials are located in the middle. He takes out one of the cigarettes, drawing it to his mouth, flicking the lighter open. The act now foreign to him, yet still, at this moment he doesn't know any way to bring himself comfort. A shaky breath releases along with smoke.

The man on the bed now resembles more a boy than a man.

He has faced conflict and war. He has been in the middle of gunfire and stood with the confidence of a Greek statue. He has been a part of a world that has put him through all of this since he was young. All the other issues in his life he has faced head-on. He has never flinched.

Finding out about his daughter was a shock, it made him nervous, but like all the other difficult times in his life learned quickly to master it. He began to feel a strong connection to the young girl. He could see himself in her.

The entire time she has been in his care, the Don was nervous that she would find out about his life. About the things that he has done and the actions that he was capable of. All the time unbeknownst to him she had been through more.

She has been hurt by those who were meant to protect her. She has felt unsafe in a home that was meant to comfort her. For the past 15 years, he has had whatever he wanted at his beck and call. And his own daughter, his flesh and blood, something that is regarded highest by a man of the mafia, was being destroyed.

It was like before he was in a trance, he didn't see a thing wrong about her. And now the illusion has been shattered, right in front of his eyes. He thinks of her and envisions a young girl whose skin is littered with bruises and scars.

How was he supposed to help her? Why had it been left up to him to pick up her pieces when he couldn't even pick up his own?

The man is so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't even realise the large collection of ash forming at the end of the cigarette. Eventually, he looks back to it, tapping the remains into an empty glass, and lifting the poison to his mouth.

A short knock at the door draws him out of his consuming thoughts. Quickly he puts the cigarette in the glass, trying his best to hide the evidence as he walks over to the entrance.

He opened the large door with his left hand, and stood on the other side is one of the men guarding Amara's room. "What is it, Alberto?" Salvatore says in a gruff.

"Sorry to disturb you Capo, but La Signora isn't sleeping. She seems to be a little restless" He tells his boss.

"Thank you, I'll be right over in a second." After Alberto gives a swift nod in response, Salvatore closes the door behind him. He walks back over to one of the large lounge chairs in his room and picks up a dark grey hoodie.