Together again ✔

3I Dom

I leaned back slightly further against the leather seat, still shocked that I was even looking at such an expensive sports car, let alone riding in one. I'd never had enough money to even afford the magazines with pictures of them in. But I learnt to make do with my financial situation even if it meant a lack of food and recourses children my age should have.

At that moment, we were driving the half an hour ride to where my house was; my house that I hadn't seen in nine years.

Just then, I remembered the ball of paper that I was meant to read out to Mr Bianchi who I now knew as my dad.

"Dad," I called softly from where I was sat in the back seat next to Ace.

"Yes, baby?" he replied from the passenger seat.

I tried to fight back a smile at his nickname. It just made this seem less like a dream. Like I was actually back with my family. He always used to call me 'baby' and everytime I heard it, it would remind me of my incredible past life. A life I hoped to return to.

"The reason why I came to your company was because my foster father sent me. He wanted me to read you a letter," I explained, noticing my dad tense up when I said 'foster father'. I wondered if he thought I was replacing him. But he didn't have to worry. David could never replace my dad.

"Do you still have it?" Damon asked from the passenger seat.

I twisted around slightly so that I could get to my pocket more easily, and pulled out the crinkled ball of paper from in there. I could feel Ace's gaze on me as I uncrumpled it and then attempted to flatten the paper out as much as possible.

"Roman Bianchi, if this letter does reach you, then you may be aware of its importance. Let's just say, it's best to take heed of the words belonging to the American Don-" before I could read anymore, Ace suddenly reached over without any warning and snatched the letter out of my hand.

I watched with confusion as he began to read through it, his brows creasing in anger and jaw clenching as he did. But I was more focused on something else.

What was a Don? And what did America and Italy have to do with it? I knew that our family was half Italian, but as far as I knew, that was where the connection stopped.

I'd never owned a phone, David thought I didn't deserve one and it would just be wasting money on me, so I had no clue about a lot of the world outside the small town that I lived in. This was actually one of the first times he had ever driven me out to a city so it was a shock for me to see everything here.

"What's wrong, Ace?" I asked, not having the courage to lean over and see what he was doing. I knew my brother would never intentionally hurt me, but I guess that my cruel life was really beginning to affect my behaviour.

Instead of replying, Ace wordlessly handed the letter through the middle of the two front seats and into Damon's hands. Dame then proceeded to pull the paper closer to him and I assumed that he bagan to read it. Despite the fact that I had a clear view of my oldest brother, I still couldn't see what was written on the paper and had to watch Damon to gain any sort of reaction that might have told me what it read. Sadly, my brother was incredible at keeping an emotional facade.

"It's nothing to worry about," Ace said firmly after a moment of silence. His tone clearly left no room for argument so I decided to just drop the subject. It must have been important if my brothers were keeping it from me, though.

"OK," I mumbled, leaning back in my seat and turning to face the window as I began to watch the scenery flash by. I heard my brother sigh from next to me and then felt a large hand clasp around mine which I had resting on my lap.