Chapter 6

Anaya

As I took the letter out, my father looked confused, so I handed him the letter. “This is the letter I found with the one you gave them,” I clarified.

His eyes widened, and he asked, “They never gave you my letter, did they?”

I shook my head a no, and he closed his eyes and murmured something in Italian. How do you tell a man who has gone through so much that his daughter doesn't remember him?

“Read it,” I replied, pointing to the letter in his hand. He took a deep breath and opened the letter. I waited patiently for him to study it. I knew the words by heart, as I had read them multiple times. It was the only thing that made me believe all my life was a lie.

He started reading the letter out loud.

Kiddo,

I and your mother are no longer here if you are reading this. I hope all is well with you. My darling, I do not want tears in your eyes. We don’t know anyone stronger than you.

You might have found a second letter in this envelope and are confused about what is going on. I am about to tell you the truth which should not be repeated to anyone. It is very critical Anaya. No one, absolutely no one, should know this.

I and your mom are not your biological parents. You are Anastasia and Viler Costa’s daughter. The second letter was written by your father Viler and given to me when you were a small kid. He requested I give you that letter when you turn fifteen so you can determine whether you want to meet him.

Mom and I knew you would want to meet him, therefore we didn’t want to give you that letter, my dear. We didn’t tell you the truth because we were afraid of losing you. We know that what we did was wrong. Even though we are not related by blood, you are my child.

So Mom and I made sure you remember only us as your parents and no one else. It was easy since you were five years old, you were too young to remember much. 

I know Viler will hate me for doing this, but I cannot give you back. The mere thought of a day without your presence will break me and your mom to the core. Although I hope Viler will forgive me, I do not regret keeping you with me.

We are leaving everything we have to you. I just want to tell you that both mom and I love you very much. And I hope you can forgive us for what we did. I pray this letter gives you peace.

Love,

Mom and Dad.

He said nothing as he continued to ponder the letter. I stood up and stroked his shoulder. “Are you all right?” I queried.

“Not really. The man I considered brother, the man I trusted with my child’s future, and the man whom I searched day and night I learned was the reason for my child not knowing my existence,” he said.

I nodded and sat back and said, “They were good people. They treated me like their daughter.”

“But Anaya, you never were their daughter. You are my daughter. The last symbol of my and your mother’s love. You carry my heart with you. How could someone be so cruel to leave me in pain while I worried you were hurt or that I would never see you again?” he shouted.

His tone made me wince. I wasn’t used to loud noises or a dangerous environment. I was raised in a tight-knit town where everyone knows everyone. My perception of reality has also been so severely distorted that I am doubting who I am.

Viler noticed my response to his ranting, and his eyes grew softer. “I’m sorry, bambino. I lost control of my emotions, and I understand this is a lot for you as well,” he said.

I groaned and replied, “You have no clue. One moment I was rushing about for my studies, and the next I was being held at gunpoint by a mobster. You have to understand that, Mr.?” I was not sure of our dynamic right now. What do I call him?

He furrowed his eyebrows and said, “Please call me Papa or Viler if you are not comfortable. Papa is better, but it’s up to you.” I nodded, and he asked," Who gave you that address? I would never let you set foot anywhere in that area."

“What do you mean, who gave me the address? You wrote that address in your letter,” I said, handing him a letter.

When he read his letter, he seemed confused. He looked at me and said," This looked like my handwriting, but I did not write this. I would never give you that address. I am so confused. Did Gio or Cara alter the address that sent you to that supposedly cursed location?"

“I do not think so. They would never put me in harm’s way. I know you do not want to hear it, but they would never do anything that would get me into trouble, Papa,” I tried to reason with him.

His eyes lit up, and he did not contradict me. He sighed and said, “If you don’t mind, can I have those letters just to investigate? The address was altered, and we should not ignore it. You might have suffered harm or, even worse, died. I cannot have that.”

I replied, “You can have it. I have it all memorized, anyway.”

He gave a slight nod as he neatly folded the letter and slipped it inside his suit jacket. My stomach gave a loud grumble, signaling that it was time to feed the beast. Although I haven’t eaten anything for the past 14 hours, I was mortified by the loud noise it produced in the otherwise silent room.

He chuckled as I came out of shock. “Someone appears to be hungry. Let’s go.” He began strolling with my hand in his and added, “I’ll make your favorite.”

“You cook?” I asked.

“For myself now. And you and your mom loved the food I made, so stop doubting me. I may be a Mafia boss but I am a chef at heart,” he chuckled.

“Mom cooked?” I asked. I know I disregarded the Mafia boss’s remark, but I am not yet prepared for it. And I understand these are obvious questions, but I want to know more about them.

He laughed out loud and said, “We wouldn’t let her cook. She was a terrible cook. When she once attempted to make lasagna, she substituted sugar for salt, and the pasta was so undercooked. Gio almost threw up. But he held in because your mama was scary.”

I laughed along with him. “You were her life, my little Passero,” he added, a sorrowful smile on his aging face. I experienced a sharp pain in my heart. I swallowed the lump in my throat and answered, “I cannot remember anything. Do you have any pictures of her or us?”

He responded with a smile and bright eyes, “Several were destroyed in the attack, but I still have some with me. If you are not tired, we can look at them after dinner.”

When we arrived at the kitchen, he wore an apron around his waist. He added, “I hope you still enjoy spaghetti and meatballs.”

I said with a happy nod. “I love it.”

He laughed as he got to work in the kitchen, and I sat down on the stool next to the large island. I took a glance around the gorgeous oak kitchen with the white accents that gave it such a homey appearance. We chatted while he cooked, and in no time, the table was set and we were enjoying our meal.

I murmured as I savored a forkful of pasta, “Hmmm.. this is so good.” This is the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.

“Eat, my sweetheart,” he added while grinning at me. After I finished my first serving, he said, “So, Anaya, tell me about yourself.”

I stopped midair and looked at him. “What would you like to know?”

“All of it.”

“Fair warning, I am a very boring person, but I will give it a shot. As you are aware, I am 22 years old. I graduated from a local public school with an A grade. I am or was a waitress in a little café near our house while studying to be a nurse. I enjoy dancing and reading. Blue is a color I love. I enjoy nature and tend to do my gardening at home. Once....” I kept talking to him as if we had known each other for ages. I feel a sense of comfort and security when I am around him.

He told me that my name is an amalgamation of their names. My father called my mother Anna and my mother called my father Vily resulting in my name Anaya.

As our conversation continued, he soon started to show me photos of us. He showed a photo of me curled up with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk while sleeping. I was drooling all over the place and wearing adorable pajamas with Christmas prints.

“I took this one on your fourth Christmas. Because you were so determined to capture Santa Claus, you attempted to hold the cookies hostage.” He had a loud laugh.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I groaned and covered my face with my hands. I said, “Oh my god, that is so embarrassing.”

“Anaya,” he called to me in a serious tone.

Upon seeing my eyes open, he pleaded, “Would you like to stay with me? After searching for you for so long, I sincerely hope you won’t mind giving your father a few days.”

I was taken aback by his request. I never gave a thought to what I would do when I found my father. But in my heart, there was no doubt, and I said, “Of course.”

He smiled and hugged me while whispering “thank you”. I hugged him back, gripping his shirt tightly. I felt like I was home. But our blissful moment was interrupted by the door slamming and a frantic man running inside the room.

“Boss, we have a problem.” The man looked visibly pale. What now?