ALESSANDRO: Book 3 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

2:

"A-Aleysha," he stutters slightly but I notice his trip up and rather lean onto the counter, elbow on the side and my hip jutting out.

"Aleysha hm? What does Aleysha want from our Celine I wonder. What company is she from?"

"Didn't say. However Celine asked not to be disturbed."

"You know, over the years I've got to know Celine very well Roger. She is my Aunt after all, so I can't help but to sniff out the bullshit pouring out of your mouth since if my Aunt had an important meeting, she'd have told me herself."

"It was last minute—"

"Celine doesn't do last minute," I grumble before turning on my heel, marching up the steps and barging open the door.

My Aunt sighs in disappointment as I meet her gaze from across her desk, her black hair neatly pulled back in a clip whilst her maroon blazer compliments her black blouse which is paired with a high waisted pencil skirt, "Do tell me Roger at least tried to stop you?"

"Roger is a shit liar," I mutter before taking in the woman sat across from Celine.

She's tall like her sister, with dark brown hair that seems to have thinned and dulled over the years since I've last seen her. From the back, her frame is easily swamped in a grey cardigan that appears to be oversized; as she turns around, I can't help but feel my chest tighten with anxiety. Her features, similar to mine, are wrinkled and hollowed, her one gorgeous and flawless tanned skin now looking sickly and pale. Deep bags settle beneath her electric blue eyes that now scream pain and turmoil, her once full lips are now thin and cracked in dire need of chapstick but I'm not giving anything to this woman.

This poor excuse of a mother.

"Isabella," she breathes as her eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears; she scrambles to stand up revealing her stained body con, cheetah dress that emphasises her weight loss. She's practically a skeleton in stilettos, completely different from the distant madre I had when I was small.

I don't respond, rather allowing well deserved anger to bubble up through the cracks of my nonplussed, pleasant facade and simmer at the surface. It takes all of my might not to pull out a dagger threateningly. Not that I'd stab her. More like to know that I'm the dominant one here, not my piss-poor mother.

I don't look at her, rather at my Aunt with a clenched jaw and hammering heart, "Well? What the fuck is she doing here?"

Celine sighs again and rubs at her temples, elbows on the desk and her back residing into a slouch. Celine never slouches. "My sister needs help. I am providing."

I scoff, "Why? Ditching her daughter isn't good enough is it? You know since she always puts herself first and nobody else I'm not even surprised she's asked for help. No, what I'm surprised about is that you're willing!"

Celine frowns, "She's my sister Angel, just remember that. Just because you two have quarrels doesn't mean I do."

"She fucking gave me to you!"

"I'm sorry," madre croaks and I have to take a double take since I'm not sure if I heard her right due to her quietness.

"Don't be sorry—"

"Shut up Celine," I snap, eyes flashing. "Why are you apologising? Tell me: do you even know why you're sorry?"

"I'm not sorry for giving you away," she whispers. "I'm sorry for not seeing you grow."

I laugh. I fucking howl with laughter and present myself as a madwoman in front of this bitch. This bitch who thinks I care about her shitty apologies.

"Angel," growls Celine warningly. "Stop acting's like a brat and listen to her. She's going through problems that I can help her with."

"What problems? Not enough alcohol to drink? Not enough drugs to take?"

At least my mother has the decency to look ashamed as she turns her gaze to the floor, bony fingers clenching and unclenching. Celine seems livid, her cheeks turning rosy pink as she stands up slowly, "I don't need your permission, girl. You show me some respect and mind your own business before I put you in your place, understand?"

"No, what I do understand is that we've been fine without her yet she's here now to bleed you dry! You need me and my business."

"Business?" Echoes madre lifelessly. "What business?"

"A drug business which I've tried to get her off of," Celine sighs. "It's very dangerous due to the city."

Madre's eyes widen as she peers up at me with fear, "Please don't tell me you're participating in drugs because of my bad example. It was wrong and stupid—"

"I would never lead by your example," I hiss and she flinches backwards as if I just punched her. Good. "How are you helping her?"

"She's living with us—"

"We live in a two bedroom flat Celine, where the fuck is she going to sleep?" I growl.

"I'll sleep on the couch."

"Like hell I want my settee to smell like booze," I grimace for emphasis and get the reaction I want; her shame.

"You don't get a choice," Celine comments almost calmly, her voice slow and condescending causing my anger to spike and my eye to twitch.

"Is she paying anything towards the bills?"

"Not until she gets back on her feet."

"So she's leech," I chuckle humourlessly. "Taking our food, water, couch whilst we work our arses off to barely save ourselves."

"If it's difficult I don't have to stay. I can get help somewhere else," mother comments.

"No you won't because I am your sister and I want to help you," Celine says lightly.

"Then I'm moving out until she leaves. It's either her or me Celine, make the smart choice," I say with finality before spinning on my heel and storming off.