Chapter 60: 60
Damian checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time, then cast another anxious glance at the door. Still no sign of Carmela. His patience was thinning, but Ella, seated comfortably across the room, seemed utterly unbothered by the tension that had settled since Carmela’s arrival. She appeared detached, as if nothing happening around her concerned her in the least. Damian sighed heavily. If things were going to go according to his plan, he realized he’d have to take matters into his own hands.
He walked briskly to Carmela’s room and knocked, his knuckles rapping against the wood with a sense of urgency. When no response came, his frustration grew. He hesitated for a moment before turning the handle and pushing the door open. The room was cloaked in darkness, the heavy curtains blocking out all traces of the morning light.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath as he crossed the room, yanking the curtains open. Sunlight flooded in, banishing the shadows and illuminating the disarray within. On the bed, Carmela groaned in protest, immediately pulling the blanket over her head to shield herself from the intrusive light.
"Babe..." Damian’s tone softened as he took a seat beside her on the bed. He gently tugged the blanket down, revealing her frowning face. Her eyes, half-lidded with sleep and irritation, met his, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. "You’re late for school," he whispered, his voice coaxing, almost pleading.
Carmela only grumbled in response, clutching the blanket and trying to pull it back over her head. But Damian held firm, refusing to let her retreat into the cocoon she had made for herself.
"I don’t want to go anywhere," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow. Her reluctance was palpable, and for a moment, Damian couldn’t blame her. If it weren’t for the necessity of this trip, he would have gladly let her stay, especially since it meant she’d be out of his sight, where he couldn’t keep a close watch on her.
"Just this once, you can skip any other trip," he promised, his tone earnest as he pulled her up into a sitting position. But as soon as her eyes met his ,he noticed her dull and heavy eyes that were filled with exhaustion, and carrying a hint of something he couldn’t quite place his heart skipped a beat. She was more than just tired; she was drained, on the edge of something deeper.
"I’ll drop out if I’m forced to do anything against my will again," she warned, her voice firm, the threat hanging in the air between them. Damian felt a chill run through him. Her tone left no room for argument, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. All he could do was nod, acknowledging the gravity of her words, as he watched her rise from the bed and make her way to the bathroom.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Damian remained seated, his mind racing. He had always known Carmela was strong-willed, but this was something different. She was drawing lines, setting boundaries, and it was clear she wouldn’t tolerate them being crossed.
...
My eyes continuously scanned every student walking in, hoping to catch sight of what I so desperately sought. But there was no sign of her. I glanced over at Xavier and Luna, who hadn’t stopped bickering throughout our entire drive. Tom sat beside me, resting his head lifelessly against the window, while my only hope, Luzy, remained focused on her laptop.
When did she join the gang? Wasn’t it just a month ago? Yet she already blended in, understanding how things worked around here.
It was after the incident at the sea. I was furious with myself for being unable to keep my demon on a leash. And then, Ken showed up with Luzy a month ago.
"Nix... someone wants to see you." I looked up from my screen to find Luzy standing behind him. I wasn’t sure what he meant by bringing a child into my house without permission, but he better make it quick and worthy of my time.
"Mr. Dean, remember me?" She peeked out from behind him with a small smile.
How could I forget the girl who had once tried to strike a deal with me?
"I told you I’d be back when I had something of value, didn’t I?" she said, dropping her backpack on the table before taking a seat.
"Did you come all the way to Paris for money?"
"Mr. Dean, you really should be careful with your words, especially when I’m the only one with the key to solve your problem." Though her tone was calm, I could feel the threat lurking beneath it.
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"I don’t want money. I want a family." I’d be lying if I said I understood what she meant. I took another look at the seventeen-year-old sitting before me, trying to figure out her angle, but nothing was clear.
"Don’t get me wrong. I can’t live with those selfish people I’m supposed to call my parents especially after seeing this." She turned her laptop toward me, and the pieces began to fall into place.
"I hacked into our security cameras to delete footage of me stealing money, but instead, I found this." She looked at me, her voice steady, though tears threatened to break through. "They let that bastard Damian murder my grandmother, and they’re still helping him for money. I can’t wrap my head around it."
The pain in her voice was undeniable, but what made her so sure I could help her? Was this another setup?
"Who is Damian?" I asked.
She retrieved her laptop, typing quickly before handing it back to me. At first, the screen was blank, but slowly, images appeared two profiles with different names but the same photo.
"Everything here is fake, including the names." She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a tablet, placing it in front of me. "I wanted to see if he was truly an editor like he claimed, so I did some digging. Turns out he’s using someone else’s identity. The first name is his, but the surname isn’t." She zoomed in on the second profile, showing that it listed him as an officer.
"This profile almost fooled me until I double-checked the name." She pulled up another photo. "They share the same name, but as you can see, they’re completely different people. The real Damian died during a terrorist operation. He could claim plastic surgery if anyone caught on, but..." She zoomed in on her tablet. "He’s neither an editor nor a police officer. He belongs to the dark world, and he’s..."
"A psychopath who kills for fun." She sank into her chair, her face pale. Despite being just a teenager, there was a weariness in her eyes far too much for someone her age. Her talents were undeniable, but it pained me to see her entangled in this mess. With the right guidance, she could become something extraordinary.
"But what makes you think I’ll help you?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended. Her silence lingered for a moment before she let out a bitter snort.
"I’m not sure why she trusts you so much, but she told me to show you this. She said you’d understand." Luzy pulled a small box from her bag, placing it in front of me with an air of finality. My pulse quickened, but I kept my distance, eyes narrowing as I tried to make sense of it.
"Goodness!" Zamiel’s exclamation broke my focus. He rushed to my side, his eyes wide with disbelief. "How did this get here?" His fingers traced the box, a smile creeping across his face, though I sensed the unease behind it.
"What’s inside?" I asked quietly.
"The other half of the seal," Zamiel whispered, his eyes gleaming. "But without the DNA of both mother and child, it can’t be opened."
DNA? My mind raced, grasping at fragments of a past I thought I’d buried. The seal had been crafted by Carmela’s mother one half given to me, the other missing all this time.
"We’ll need Carmela and her mother’s blood to open it," Zamiel added.
"Open what? It’s already open," Luzy interrupted, her voice casual.
"What do you mean?" Zamiel frowned.
She shrugged, flipping the box open. "The lady with the black mask already opened it. She’s the one who brought me to Paris. She gave me your address and told me to give this to you." She pulled a letter from her coat and dropped it on the table. My heart pounded, dread blooming inside me.
Carmela? No, it couldn’t be her. She’d been under constant surveillance by the scientists. No one could’ve reached her.
"Luna, take Luzy to her room," I said, trying to steady my voice. Once they were gone, I picked up the letter, my pulse quickening.
"Protect her," it read. Simple, but the words clawed at something deeper. I opened my desk drawer, searching for a similar letter I’d received years ago. But it was gone.
"Where did I put it?" I muttered, standing abruptly. There was only one place left the safe. I pressed the button beside the bookshelf, revealing the hidden compartment. There it was. I held the old letter in trembling hands, comparing it to the new one. They were identical, down to the signature.
"Is it possible to forge someone’s signature?" Zamiel asked, uncertain.
"Not one signed in blood," I replied. "It’s nearly impossible to replicate. There’s always some subtle difference. But here... there isn’t."
"Isn’t Carmela’s mother dead?" The words felt foreign, absurd even. But I had to ask.
Zamiel nodded, though hesitation clouded his expression. "Yes, but... her face was disfigured beyond recognition."
The room spun. I hadn’t been able to attend her funeral, trapped in the mental health hospital at the time, but I’d heard the news of her death her and her unborn child.
"If she’s truly alive, she knows everything," I whispered, dread gnawing at me.
"Not just everything," Zamiel added grimly. "She knows every move we make."
My chest tightened. If Carmela’s mother had stayed hidden all these years, what was her plan? And why now? We were trying to save her child, but where had she been? Why stay in the shadows?
"We need to keep a close eye on Carmela," I said, dialing Tomlin’s number. "She might be her mother, but we still don’t know if she’s the reason Carmela is in danger. Let’s hope for the best." My voice trembled with desperation.
Zamiel sighed, his usual bravado gone.
But it wasn’t Carmela’s mother that haunted me it was the war I felt on the horizon. A woman capable of faking her death and infiltrating our inner circle wasn’t to be underestimated. She was far more dangerous than we realized.
"You called for me?" Tom’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Yes," I said, straightening. "Place Luzy under our highest protection. And get me everything we have on Tamila Delton."
And that’s how we got here.
Tom has been sulking ever since we returned from the birthday party, all because of his encounter with a girl. From his description of her, there could only be one person with that kind of temper.
"Amina Sorrentino," Suzy and I chorused together. I turned to her and our eyes locked in a silent exchange. The weight of our unspoken thoughts hung between us...but I doubt she grasped the gravity of the name she mentioned. After what felt like an eternity, I reluctantly looked away, the intensity of the exchange still lingering.
"It can’t be?" Luna finally broke the heavy silence that had fallen over us.
"Who is she?"
"She’s the woman Tommy crossed paths with," Suzy said, passing her tablet to me and turning her laptop screen toward them.
Was I to interpret this as good or bad news?
Amina Sorrentino is of mixed Nigerian and Italian heritage. Still celebrated for her beauty on screen despite her young age she became a figure of intrigue and fear after a director’s attempt to exploit her ended with his body found dead in an elevator,no evidence pointed to her neither was she investigated but those who were present were aware of the situation and threat’s exchanged by both the director and Amina.
Her background as the only daughter of an Italian mafia slowly surfaced and no one dared stand in her way though few knew she was also tangled in the darker aspects of our world.
She had grown up with us in the dynasty’s special training center and was Carmela’s best friend. But after the incident, she vanished, only to reappear as one of the most sought-after and beloved actresses and models on television.
Still my question of how she got involved with our mafia dynasty is still left with a huge question mark,as rarely does different mafia dynasties work together.
The sudden return of both her and Tamila, Carmela’s mother stirred unsettling thoughts in my mind "Could they be working together?
"Damn No..I must be overthinking this" I closed my eyes, throwing my head backwards.
I needed to take things one step at a time, despite the uneasy tension tightening in my chest.
"Let’s forget the Amina issue for now, who actually picked out this disguise for Nix?" Tom finally spoke up eyeing me
"I’ve been wanting to ask same question..who said if he wore just glasses and dress simple no one would recognize him?"
What irrelevant questions.