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I didn’t understand.
This couldn’t all be just one big coincidence, could it?
All three of them grew up in an orphanage.
I grew up in an orphanage too.
They befriend a little girl their age.
I remembered the three boys who were my best friends and whom I held very dearly in my heart.
King’s real name was Marcello.
One of the boy’s names had also been Marcello.
It should have been impossible, and yet…
They had to be the boys that I thought I’d lost forever.
Ace’s real name had to be Alessio, while Jack’s should be Virgil.
I stared at the ceiling, a myriad of emotions rushing within me.
I still couldn’t believe it.
How could it be that the boys I held so dearly in my memories were now here, next to me?
King —no, Marcelo.He was Marcello— spoke of a girl he knew. Her name had been Dahlia.
That had to be me. It would be impossible for her to be anyone else.
But he also said that she was the Don’s daughter.
The daughter that he believed was dead.
No, this had to be some kind of mistake.
How could he possibly be my…
Was he?
I’d always wondered about why Francesco had decided to take me in, out of all the other children from the orphanage. He hadn’t been looking for a son or a daughter, he was looking for a soldier.
But I was a waif of a kid, not even ten years old.
Fragile and weak.
If a gust of wind were to blow in my direction, I would have most likely fallen over.
I’d seen him pick up kids from orphanages before, but they had been full-grown teenagers. Kids that turned a certain age where the orphanages didn’t want to take care of them anymore, left to the mercy of the outside world. As if the world had ever been merciful to children like us.
I often got the impression that Francesco paid more attention to me than he did to the others. I couldn’t understand why, since at the same time it appeared like he despised me the most.
If Francesco had been aware that the Don had a daughter, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d try to use her against him.
Or in this case — steal her away from him, raise her, and then years later send, her to kill him.
I could feel bile rising in my throat as the depth of Francesco’s manipulations became clearer.
