The world is a broken one, I knew it, I have always known it. I only accepted it when I saw what it could do to the most innocent amongst us.
Cruelty was what Alessa was exposed to, she handled it as if it were the only thing exposed to her. I knew that it was the only thing she was used to, it became normalized. She deserved everything that we would have given to her if she lived with us, she did not deserve what she rather underwent.
It has been a favoured idea for so long that I am heartless, I don't find comfort in showing my emotions so I don't, a man without a soul. I rarely show my humanity to clients, nor to those who I am unfamiliar with personally.
Exercising ideas which will naturally set forth a vulnerable emotion only discloses a possible weakness to the enemy.
The enemy will take the information that they have and incorporate it within a diabolical scheme. Smart business is what assisted me in becoming so successful, it is also the only occupation that can make any man unprotected.
Never have I been exposed to such hell, but I have seen many, once overly confident men, falling to their knees as they begged for hope. I work in an intelligent way, I have built a platform so high and stable that there is no way I could fall.
I amassed a prominence founded with a balance between respect and fear.
A girl to take after my heart, my own sister; I saw it the moment she opened up. Not only is she a valiant fighter, and a naturally strong hearted girl; but she thinks rationally and fairly, she gives a hope to be something much greater than people in London expected her to be.
Not only a reminder of myself, but she is also a scarily similar version of our grandfather.
His words echoed in her mind, and his technique showed in all that she did.
Just like the men in our family, the same misogynistic men who strongly believed that a woman could never earn herself a living without the hefty endorsement of a man, she shows similar qualities. I could not be prouder.
She never will hear it enough, she will never be praised enough, and she will never understand it in the way that it should be understood.
Now that I have seen the world as she did, I know her struggles. My patience ran dangerously thin when I saw the videos, and when I saw the state that she was living in, it made my blood boil. It made me angry.
There was never a plan to tell the relatives about Alessa's past life, it was clear that she preferred to keep such nightmares private and hidden.
Standing with everyone this evening was like a breath of metaphorical fresh air, realistically strongly perfumed air.
A glass of aged champagne in my hand, the other hand in my pocket as I spoke with a relative. The grand foyer was practically the entire ground level, stretching back for a few hundred meters.
Mid-conversation, I causally checked the watch on my wrist, noticing that my sister should have arrived by now. There could have been traffic, maybe even a set back with the schedule. Worry didn't arouse in me as I continued to listen to my converser's hopeless words about another side business. His ideologies didn't interest me, work in general didn't grant my attention at this moment.
Instead, the large hard-wood double doors that moved grabbed my empirical notice.
Only one side opened ever so slightly and my little sister stepped in through the gap. Nobody had noticed her presence as of yet, I was only keeping a close eye on the time to ensure that nothing suspicious was happening.
I inwardly smiled when I saw her outfit, I actually gave a small smile when I saw the tattered shoes that only showed when she accidently lifted her dress.
Her hair was done, her makeup was natural and the necklace brightened the room. She didn't look like the Alessa that I saw trudging down the stairs in the morning with knotted hair and mismatched pajamas.
Just as everyone heard the door close, two of the men guarding the room sprinted to the door. Nobody knew about her appearance, neither did the security who were exclusively hired to protect the event.
The minute that she noticed the danger coming her way, her eyes narrowed and she noticeably sighed. I saw my father and Romeo step forward from a natural instinct, but stopped moving when they saw her unbothered face.
As if she had all the time the world had to offer, she reached for her dress, past the slit and pulled something out.
A dagger strapped to her thigh was the last thing that I expected to see, yet I didn't seem to be surprised. I lifted an eyebrow when I saw how she professionally twirled the pernicious object between her fingers.
The first man confidently stepped forward, having the nerve to put hands on her. The injured shoulder was dragged down, and she turned with an imperil look in her eye.
One hard, swift hit was all that was needed to send the contemptible excuse of a guard to the floor. He was knocked into a heedless matter.
The second guard, who seemingly only hoped to be backup when dealing with a weak-looking girl, appeared to be unwilling to fight.
His face grew considerably stunned and quite rightly so. He looked to the floor, at full tilt, where his once conscious companion was thrown down.
His neck slowly turned to the other side of the room, where the guests of honour were standing; nobody said a word, nobody prompted him, nobody dismissed him.
He stood in a pathetic stance and strived to land a hit.
Of course, he didn't. Instead, his fist was caught, then his arm which was twisted and pushed back. The man cried out in agony, but Alessa showed no remorse until a harrowing crack was heard. She dropped the man who was clearly reliant on her hold and stepped back.
I noticed the brothers and cousins standing proud as they watched their sorellina deal with a concrete situation. I could see that many of them wanted to interfere, but their subconscious mind stopped them from doing so.
Everyone else, who had yet to be introduced, watched the visibly young girl with astonishment.
The only females who interact with them, are the type who are willingly submissive to their every demand, who will do everything that they say because it is the manipulative way that we are so familiar with- especially the few younger ones who are yet to learn the incompatible.
A strong female was so unusual.
The guards leg was then kicked back and he fell to his knees as he continued to mewl, even an occasional feminine sounding shriek would transpire, followed by the sadistic laughter of my brothers.
She was planning to leave the wretched man narrowly sentient, but aspirations change. Just when the man began to look remorseful, he pulled out the gun from his waistband.
This was a few steps too far.
Rocco moved forward, towards the back of him as he shakily raised the gun. Alessa locked eyes with her cousin and nodded for a moment. Rocco pulled the guards head back which made him loose a grip on the gun, once the clatter of the metal was heard on the floor, his head was released, but met with a roundhouse kick not even a second later.
The side of his head was struck with such a force, that it bounced several times off the wall. Both had now been harshly afflicted into unconsciousness.
Elegantly, she set her straight hair behind her shoulder, adjusted the necklace and stepped over the outstretched arm of the limp man. Rocco stood back once realizing she could handle herself.
Luckily, only 2 guards were present in the room at this time, meaning that there wasn't a need for concern. However, one of our cousins, Matteo decided to inspect Alessa himself. Not only was Matteo well built and majorly skilled, he was also overly aggressive.
A gun of his own found way into his hand as he aimed it to the spot directly in the middle of her eyes. He showed no mercy, nor did he think about another possibility about who this girl could have been.
'Jesus Christ.' She groaned, and stepped forward so that the barrel was now resting on her forehead. Matteo was clearly dumbfounded by Alessa's remarkably stupid yet fearless stunt, walking right into a feasible death.
'Alright, it's enough.' Michele took control, and stood taller as he gave Matteo a look to stand down. Him being the stubborn individual that he was, he didn't. Alessa took matters into her own hands and slammed her foot into his shin, snatching the gun as he recovered.
A blade and handgun in her hold was everything that I didn't want to see. Armani took the gun from her unattached grip and extended his arm around the back of her head to stroke the hair down.
Being the most tender with our sister, he bent down to whisper something in her ear, most likely to distract her from the stares. She smiled and looked up, politely mouthing a thank you in return.
Again, the front doors opened and two more guards entered with permission, examining the bodies in front of them, then turning to each other with shock etched into their expressions. As my father drew his eyes from his daughter, he lightly cleared his throat and stepped forward to tell the guards to remove the bodies and get someone to clean the mess.
Armani pointed in my direction, the uncle I was once speaking with stepped forward, seeming intrigued to meet with this teenage girl. Alessa leisurely made her way to me and stopped only a meter away. She still had the knife in her hand, I internally wondered why Armani didn't confiscate the blade along with the handgun.
I gave a signature look which made her eyes widen as she remembered what she was aimlessly holding, she looked ready to fit the dagger back into the strap that was fitted onto her leg, but I held out my hand.
She handed it over without a complain and I swiftly placed it into the inner pocket of my suit jacket, being careful not to rip the tailored material.
I didn't want to leave her little show unnoticed, so I pointed my finger in the direction where the bodies were shamelessly being dragged out. 'Impressive, very impressive.' I sighed before adding. 'But that was a stupid thing to do, it would have been sorted out.'
She dragged out a huff. 'Why would I leave something to be sorted out for me when I can just do it myself. His eyes were full of hunger, and he looked as though he wanted me dead within the next few seconds.'
I didn't have a good chance at answering her question, our Father had already walked over. Face calm and expressionless- never faltering.
Romeo had now taken Alessa to speak with our grandfather, so it was obvious that I was the person who he was looking to converse with. Of course- as Alessa's brother and Santiano's son- I knew that neither of them would know what to say to one another, so keeping a civilized distance between them would be the safest option.
A glass of champagne was in his hands as he leaned on the pillar behind him, crossing his legs over each other. His eyes were sat deep into mine.
'Where the hell did she learn that? I have never seen a girl do what she just did; I haven't seen many people in my lifetime have the courage to look a man like that in the eye, then knock them to the ground with a swift movement.' He spoke, swirling his drink. 'Those guards were specially trained, specially selected to protect this event. I have never seen anybody taken down that fast.'
'She has had...' I paused here for a moment to find the right words. 'She has had a troubled past, fighting for herself became more of an instinct than an expertise.'
'The technique is impeccable, that normally would have taken years of dedicated training.'
'She is self-taught. A few hours a week- she told me.' I repeated what I had heard from her a couple of months ago.
'I have never seen anything like it.' My father spoke in shock once again.
His delight for his daughters skill didn't come from the fact that she was his only girl, it came from the fact that she was skilled, in ways that he had never been shown to him and everyone else here.
'If any word gets released that she is home again, it will trigger an immediate fight response. This gathering is risky enough each year, but with security so debilitated, I don't believe that we are safe.' He shook his head, stoking his chin.
'I don't think we have a problem brother, who knows about my niece? Who knows? Absolutely nobody, not even the people in this room know who she is.' Uncle Sergio grabbed my father's shoulders and shook them to calm his nerve.
'I'm concerned for her protection.' His natural response to a possible affair was this.
'Look around, once we announce her existence, you will not be able to name one person who wouldn't take 1000 bullets for her.' He then looked over to Alessa who was smiling as Lorenzo jokingly pushed her, his eyes automatically softened as he saw her smile for the first time. 'That girl will never understand how much protection she actually has.'
I hummed in agreement, looking again to see how easily she communicated with Lorenzo. The twin who is the loudest, the cockiest and the most juvenescent in the family. He tends to throw her around the most, always looking for a way to wind her up, but Alessa is smart and sees this before it even happens, she doesn't react which irritates him further.
'You see how well my children get along.'
I saw pride in my fathers eyes when he spoke about his children as a whole again, not only speaking a few names at a time anymore.
They were shielding her from the stares, they were distracting her from the murmur regarding her, and most importantly, they were unknowingly protecting her from what would have made her uncomfortable. It's clear that she doesn't like the attention on her, and the brothers were doing a good job at delaying the announcement of her homecoming.
It had to be done eventually, it happened sooner than we hoped.
'Camilla, oh my God, oh my God!' I heard from the side of the room. Another cousin- Samuele- hunched over with his hands on his knees as he stared at Alessa with disbelief. 'Oh my God, I never thought I would see you again.' He ran the short distance and tackled her into a hug, she stumbled but regained balance and her arms wrapped around the back of him.
'Sam? What are you doing here?' She stepped back and kept a hold on his hands as she examined him with a surprised expression. Samuele was the same age as Gio, he was a proficient passionate dancer. His lifestyle made his expressive technique easier to achieve.
'I should be asking you that, how the hell are you here?' He moved his hands to her face and aggressively shook her head as Alessa simply laughed.
'How do you know this girl Samuele?' His father stepped forward and looked at my sister, then back to his own son.
'I met her in London, she lived near the dance studio I was training at for the competitions. We met at her friends party.' Alessa seemed to go shy as she was being spoken about in front of all these people. 'Remember the girl I told you about, the one who got me out of trouble with the police?' His father and brothers nodded. 'Camilla is the girl, she can make one hell of a negotiation. She even got a fake ID, claiming that she was my representative.'
'What the fuck Alessa.' Romeo turned almost immediately after, I didn't even have time to react to Sam's words. The room went silent, everyone's eyes were on her. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers, shutting my eyes briefly.
'Alessa?' That was all Matteo needed to repeat for the entire room to explode into a full wave of curiosity filled conversation. She was still stood next to Sam, but even he was staring at her with his eyes widened.
The crowd calmed down, slowly, but the noise still settled. Grandfather was now standing at the front of the foyer, patiently waiting to speak on this.
'Yes.' He started. 'Alessa has come home.'
Everyone went silent again as Samuele engulfed her into yet another hug, this time it wasn't a quick tackle. 'It was you this whole time.' He voiced with revelation.
'I don't understand why this is a big deal.' Her naivety shining through like a pearl inside of an oyster.
'We thought you were dead!'
***
Not much was explained, but everyone was hungry. That is how we all ended up sitting at the extremally long dining table. Classic table utensils, wrapped in satin serviettes were at the side of the white-gold starter plates.
Many times Alessa was offered the head chair at the table, but each time she respectfully and politely declined, eventually taking a seat in the middle of our grandfather and Samuele.
'So, how are you not dead?' Another cousin- Jean- breathed out .
'I ask myself the same question.' She shrugged, then swivelled the signet around her finger. Our grandfathers eyes trailed down to where there was movement and stared at the ring.
'Where did you find this? I thought I misplaced it years ago.' He shook his head slowly.
'Oh, do you want it back?' She began to pull it off which made me internally smirk, but she was quickly stopped and he gave her the smallest of smiles and nodded his head.
Many questions were asked, and she answered them all to the best of her ability. It didn't seem as if she was getting tired of them, instead, she looked inspired to answer them.
She revealed that she lived in Croydon, her interests and accidently, she revealed Arya's premature death. This raised more questions, and eventually it was pieced together that she was living by herself.
Nobody commented on it, the subject was swiftly changed, but I saw the distressed, concerned faces that naturally formed upon hearing this.
The conversation was going well, better than I had anticipated. That was until the first phone notification went off.
Then the next.
The next few overlapped each-others.
Everyone at the tables phone buzzed once, everyone except Alessa's.
From an automatic impulse, everybody grew suspicious as we all unlocked our devices. A message from anonymous.
My chest clenched as I realised what I had been sent, naturally I assumed that everyone had been sent remotely the same thing. My assumption was right.
This was going to break her heart in unimaginable ways.
My unknowing sister sat looking intrigued. Playing with her signet, also fiddling with a thin bracelet that was on her wrist. The same one that Milan Colombo wore on his wrist... her bodyguard...
Sorry for the late update, I've been super busy the last couple of days. Writing in Vincent's perspective was harder than I imagined, but I quite like the way it turned out. Also... what do we think about the ending.
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