My Best Friend's Brother: The Husband - Book 2[First Draft]

Chapter 21: Meeting the Mob

Chloe:

Three days pass by in a blur and my heart still aches with the separation between my husband and me. Rachel, Miliani, and even Lisabeth have all tried cheering me up but it's been futile so far. As for Sicily, it is a beautiful city but I hardly had time to notice while wallowing in self-pity.

It's another and yet, I am cooped up in my room. I feel horrible for leaving the care of Lisabeth to Rachel but she understood that I am not in the best state of mind right now. A faint voice in my head reminds me of the promise I made to my husband.

Become so strong no one will ever have to fight your battles again; become so strong that no one will even dare hurt our kids.

His words ring across my mind like a song and the sad feeling in my chest lifted slightly. My hand lands on my slight bump and I pull my strength from the unborn child in my womb. It's time to get out of this sad haze, and it's time I become the woman I need to be for my kids; a strong one.

I stand to my feet, and I barely took one step before the double doors of my bedroom are thrown open. My best friend storms in with a scowl on her lips and her hard eyes meet my startled ones.

"Alright missy!" she snaps, "I've had just about enough of your pity party!"

"I know," I comment, rolling my eyes at her and she closes her mouth from whatever she was about to say. The hardness in her eyes melts to the warm crystal they usually are, and she blinks at me.

"Um..ah..what?" she replies, stumbling over her words and a giggle escapes my lips.

"Has my father come back from his trip yet? I would love to meet him," I ask, "Oh! and everyone else too."

Rachel's stance relaxes and she smirks at me, "You're lucky Miliani stopped me from coming in here earlier. You would have woken up to fucking snakes in your bed."

My eyes widen and she chuckles, lurching forward and grabs onto my wrist. "And yes, my dear. Carlito came home last night and has been dying to meet you."

We leave the room, excitement building in my stomach as I look around at the beautiful paintings scattered throughout the three-story house. I know I'll have other chances to admire the walls but I needed something to distract me from the feeling building up inside me.

The curiosity of who my father is will finally be sated. The hall widens when we get to a staircase and the descent seemed to escape my mind as we make our way to what I'm assuming is the living room.

A burst of warm laughter is heard and my chest tightens. My Lisabeth. I can recognize her sounds of joy from anywhere. The living room comes into view and my eyes catch sight of my daughter sitting on an unknown man's lap.

The man's skin is a chocolate color and his greying black hair is slicked backward, away from his face. Even from here, I can tell that he has some muscle on him and his eyes were the darkest I've ever seen on a man.

The sides of his eyes are crinkled, showing the feeling of pure joy on his face as Lisabeth says something to him. She's such a light. A light smile falls on my lips as my feet stop.

"Hey everyone! Guess who decided to join us today," Rachel announces from beside me and all eyes turn to look at me. It is only then I notice that there are a lot more people in the room than I originally thought.

"Mommy!" Lisabeth squeals and she jumps off the man's lap. Her little feet run in my direction and her arms wrap around my waist as her head lays flat on my stomach. I wrap my fingers in her hair as she looks up at me with joy shining in her eyes.

"Hi, baby," I whisper, my eyes filling with water. I pick her up, securing her on my hip and she hugs my neck tightly. Goosebumps appear on my skin as the love I feel from her surrounds me and the ache in my heart turns dull as my eyes close in relaxation.

"Mommy, come meet everybody!" she exclaims when she pulls away and I smile at her with a nod. I place her back on the ground and before I know it, I am being dragged to the center of the living room.

I nod to Vincenzo and Miliani, and I send a smile Dangelo's way. I'd somehow calmed down enough to learn his name when we were on the jet. My eyes widen when I notice the small baby in his arms and next to him, his replica except for the length of their hair.

"That is Cousin Angelo," my daughter introduces pointing to Dangelo's brother. The brooding man smirks my way with a barely noticeable nod and instantly I am reminded of when I first met Christian. That smirk must run in the family.

"That is Uncle Gerardo," she says next, pointing to an elderly man who is no doubt the father of Vincenzo and his siblings. He winks my way, "Nice to finally meet you, Chloe."

A smile of my own forms on my lips as I shake my head. The cockiness must run in the family too. "Same to you sir," I reply politely and he cringes. I chuckle at this.

"Gerardo is fine, mia cara."

"What does that even mean?" I ask, looking to Rachel. She rolls her eyes, "It means 'my dear'."

"Over there is Aunt Mafalda!" Lisabeth exclaims, interrupting my words to my best friend. My eyes go over to a scary-looking woman sitting next to Miliani. She sends a small smile my way and I do the same.

I finally look to the man, whose lap, Lisabeth was sitting on. His eyes hold happiness as he looks at me and tears begin to fill his lower eyelids when he stands. He takes a hesitant step toward and my heart just knew. This man is my father.

"You look just like your mother," he whispers as he comes closer and my own eyes water at his words. This man is my father. The words whisper in my head again and my hand slips from Lisabeth's small one.

I take the remaining two steps between us and my arms wrap around his torso as my forehead lands in the middle of his chest. He freezes for a moment, a traitorous tear falling from my cheeks and wetting his dark blue shirt.

"I can't believe it's you," I whisper, my words garbled.

His arms slowly wrap around my petite frame and his hold becomes tighter. "I can' believe it's you," he retorts quietly and the dam in my eyes break. My hands fist the back of his shirt, holding tight as I feel that he is real.

The missing part of me, the missing part of my heritage, I've finally found it. I've finally found my dad.

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