Sitting in the back seat of my black SUV, I watch as the massive cypress trees in the distance get closer and then farther away as we pass them. The rhythmic motion of the car and the gentle hum of the engine create a soothing backdrop. Raindrops splatter against the windows, creating a mesmerizing pattern as they streak down the glass. I see the raindrops crash into the pavement, scattering in all different directions as cars drive through them.
The way the water dances and reflects the headlights of passing vehicles adds a sense of magic to the otherwise gray day. The vibrant green of the cypress trees contrasts with the dark, overcast sky, reminding me of the resilience of nature. Despite the rain and the gloom, there is a certain tranquility and beauty in the scene that captivates me. It's a reminder that even in the stormiest times, there is still beauty to be found if you look for it.
As the car approached the familiar gates, my hands clenched into tight fists, my knuckles white. I glanced out the window, the landscape blurring past as my breathing grew shallow and rapid. A knot tightened in my stomach, each turn of the wheel bringing me closer to my family. I wiped my damp palms on my dress, my mind racing with memories of their faces. The thought of my brothers' stern gazes and my father's piercing eyes sent a shiver down my spine. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, as I whispered to myself, "Will they even recognize me?"
"Remember who you are doing this for." I said to myself. You are not just doing this for yourself but also for Avrora. She deserves to know my family; her uncles, grandparents, and great grandparents.
Pulling up to the Monti Estate, waves of nostalgia flood over me from just the thought of them rejecting my new life as a Mikhailov and not a Monti.
"Signora (Lady)," the driver announces as the vehicle stops. "We have arrived at the Monti Estate."
"Grazie (Thank you)," I responded back.
Stepping out of the sleek black car, I caught the eyes of the standing guards. "Ma'am, state your name and the purpose of your visit," a guard inside the gatehouse calls out in Italian to me, clearly not recognizing me.
"I am here to see my father, Lorenzo Monti," I reply firmly, not backing down in the slightest. "I am Aliona Lucia Monti, and I have returned," I state, not backing down to my birthright.
"Sì, Principessa (Yes, Princess)," the guard acknowledges me respectfully, his tone respectful as he recognizes my status. His words carry a hint of formality, reflecting the respect owed to a member of the Monti family.
Being acknowledged as the Princess, I am escorted to the main house. Approaching the front door, many memories come back to me... When mamma would watch me, my fratelli (brothers), and Papà play soccer. I remember the laughter shared among my fratelli whenever I attempted to mimic their antics, only to fail each time spectacularly. And I cherish those days when I followed my father around so closely that I was dubbed a mini version of him. Those days seem like a distant memory now, a lifetime ago, before everything just fell apart.
Walking inside to the entryway, I hear footsteps coming closer from the grand staircase. As I turn my head, I see Lorenzo, my father, descending the steps with a mixture of surprise and disbelief etched on his aging face. Papà looked noticeably older, with strands of gray hair peppering his once-dark locks. His footsteps echo in the spacious foyer, adding to the solemn atmosphere that hangs in the air.
"A-liona, is that you?" Papà stutters in Italian, shocked for a moment.
"It's been a while, Papà," I state calmly and steadily in English despite the whirlwind of emotions just wanting to escape my voice.
YOU ARE READING
The Volki
Mystery / ThrillerAliona Lucia Vasilisa Monti Mikhailov, once an innocent five-year-old princess of the Monti family, is now the Donna of the Russian mafia and wife to Amir and Axton Mikhailov. Kidnapped as a child and shaped into a ruthless assassin, she has grown i...
