The gangster's little unknown assassin - Part 2 ✔

Chapter 67 - Found...

SAGE'S POV

The days that followed were filled with the family left in Sicily trying to do everything they could to distract me from my turbulent thoughts. After learning of my traumatic birthdays, no one wanted this year to be the same, so they planned everything to go well.

Two days after I woke up in the hospital, my father spoke with the doctor in charge of Ziva's case. I wasn't aware of what they talked about until later, but I found it weird when he suddenly started rushing us to pack. Turns out he rushed the workers on his house to finish the job so we could move back

It was the twenty-eight of October, and dad woke me and the twins to have an early breakfast. He had Shauwn and the uncles come over to help us load a van with our crap, and then he went to get grandma, and we were on our way to the renovated house.

"First rule: Sage, you are forbidden to step a foot in the kitchen!

Second: No parties.Third: No drinkingFourth: No drugs and no smoking-"

"But you smoke." Diesel deadpanned, already checking how many cigarettes he had left in his pack.

"I'm the exception to that rule."

"Then there are no rules at all!" I declared and tried to go into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"No!" Dad screamed immediately and plopped me on top of my brothers on the couch. "I won't smoke inside the house anymore. I swear!" He was quick to change his mind. "Smoking is bad for Blaise's development and for Sage's asthma." He muttered quietly and glanced disdainfully towards the packet of cigarettes in his own breast pocket.

Afterward, he showed me the cute nursery he had made for Blaise and revealed the secret door that connected her room to mine.

My room has a big soft bed, a well-proportioned bathroom space, nothing too over the top like in grandpa's house, a walk-in closet 3x2meters and a panic room 3x4meters with rations for a month, water, a portable toilet, ammunition, guns, knives, blankets, a big med-kit, a single bed that encases a person in case of earthquakes (a coffin, in my opinion, but my father wants me 'safe in all and every single abnormal occurrence'), a small desk with a rolling chair and monitor connected to the cameras on the house and a bag with money, fake ID's, birth certificates, drivers license, med-kit, clothes a pair of shoes and even some jewelry and toiletries.

I've never seen a panic room like this one. The ventilation was also not connected to the main one of the house in case of 'accidents' and 'mishaps'.

At the end of the tour, I couldn't tell if I was shocked by his brilliance or my dad's over-the-top preparations—that, and if I suddenly became allergic to the house. I couldn't stop sneezing!

My avó Rosa said it was the dust from the house repairs that made me react like that. She had everyone, except me, wear aprons and clean the house from top to bottom. Meanwhile, I was sent to the garden while they cleaned.

It took me two days to stop sneezing like a broken recorder. While I sneezed, grandma made everyone clean and re-clean the house; when I finally stopped, she deemed it clean enough and liberated my uncles, cousin, brothers, and father from the house. Only Cameron, Zeke, and Francesco escaped her cleaning mania.

"Mrs Rosa, you should come visit us with Sage someday." My aunt Stella had proposed mischievously, much to my uncle Alan's horror.

"With pleasure, dear. Do you want me to bring my dustpan?" My grandma spoke with all the seriousness in the world, and all my uncles ran away to their cars.

In the afternoon of the 30th of October, I was sitting under a tree in the garden, with Ray Ray above my head, when a message came from Pokemon.

'We might have pinpointed who took Zeke's brother. I'm sending you the profiles. It's your call now.'