#alessia romano fic

[ryuzakemo128]

Padre's Second Home?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Alessia Romano / Thomas Miller x Alessia Romano

Content Warning: Second Home, Second Family business and drama, baby health issues, cheating, affair, jealous Joel?, age gap (Alessia is 30, Joel is 55-56 and Thomas is 50-51.), No Outbreak AU.

Words: 4,140

Masterlist

Credit (Dividers): @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: This is from Joel's Perspective. It adds details that go beyond the first part. Enjoy.

Summary: ‘Drag him back if you have to.’ Echoed into my head. Maria. Tommy wouldn’t listen to me, he was always stubborn about getting what he wanted when we were kids. 

Maria sent me down here, reluctantly, I could see why she was reluctant to do so. The town was rumoured to be rough on those who didn’t know how to put their money where their mouth is. It wasn’t huge by any standard, five hundred people, give or take a few. Depending on the people who decided to move into it or out of it. Maria was getting suspicious of Tommy spending weeks there, sometimes a month or two. 

It certainly wasn’t Jackson, far from it, a stark contrast to the quiet, snow-kissed serene landscape Tommy lived in most of the time. It was hot, dusty, the sun blaring down like the endless summers on a desert. Only it had a lush green vibrancy, a tropical desert if there ever was one. A pub on the corner of the street, a general store, a floral shop with more colours I could name from the top of my head.

Maria couldn’t shake the feeling, something was off with Tommy, she had assumed it was because of Joel. But it didn’t line up, the lingering unease gnawing at her. Withdrawing a substantial amounts of cash from one bank, precisely three thousand dollars, all from the same town. Yet she never saw a dime. Ever. She tried talking about it with Tommy. 

She was met with stonewalling, excuses and elaborate lies he never backed up with any clear evidence of what he was doing there. “Joel, I know, I know you and I don’t exactly have the best history when it comes to Tommy. I just need you to reach him, find out what he’s doing, and drag him back if you have to.” She sighed, holding her face in her hands. She didn’t know what to do with herself. 

‘Drag him back if you have to.’ Echoed into my head. Maria. Tommy wouldn’t listen to me, he was always stubborn about getting what he wanted when we were kids. 

Part of me wanted to say, “No. Tommy is a grown man. He can take care of himself.” But in the face of the odd bank transactions. It was far too odd for me to ignore. Something wasn’t right with Tommy. I couldn’t leave Maria to figure it out herself. As much as we didn’t agree with some things, we both agreed that this mess stunk to high heaven. 

“I’m not going to make any promises, I’ll look for him. Just don’t expect me to pull out a miracle from my pants.” I told her, crossing my arms as I walked out to pack my bags to head off tomorrow morning. 

As soon as I got comfortable in the ramshackle hotel, it wasn’t the best, but it was far from the worst I have ever stayed in. It was certainly something, like the rest of this town, an eclectic piece amongst the other mismatched buildings in this town. 

The centrepiece? A waterbed that undulated gently beneath me as I eased my bag onto it. The floral-patterned sheets, reminiscent of a long-forgotten summer, whispered secrets of past lovers and fleeting moments of joy. The black curtains, drawn from the finest bargain-bin fabric of a distant Euro-centric utopia, shrouded the windows, casting the room in a mysterious allure, seemed almost out of place in the heart of this vibrant community.

A small kitchenette with a microwave, a mini fridge with water stored in the door. An espresso coffee machine on the counter beside the microwave, the freeze-dried coffee beside it along with two small white coffee cups and two larger coffee cups in a black matte. Along with a basket of single serving sugar, salt and pepper packets stored in three small ceramic containers. An electric frying pan stored in the cupboard underneath.

Once the bar down the street, with the crimson red neon sign reading, ‘Eclipse Veil’ opened. I spotted a woman with curly auburn hair and deep emerald green eyes talking to Tommy. I frowned, who was this woman? My breath caught in my throat once I saw him kiss her, his hands on either side of his waist, handing over a large white envelope, likely with cash tucked inside of it.

Most likely leaving to head right back to Jackson again. Already spent his four weeks here, off to the wife again, I see? Never mind the fact Maria is already getting suspicious of him. Though getting information from this mystery woman would be easier once he wasn’t around to stick his nose into things. The rumble of Tommy’s car as he pulled away onto the open road, right back to his wife. 

I walked out of the hotel room, locking the door behind me. I went with my gut instinct and entered the bar, and spotted her inside, she was manning the counter, a fresh face covering for the weary matron who had clearly seen a long day. Her vibrant energy contagious, infecting my own energy levels. 

She sauntered over to where I sat at the bar with the grace of a lurking panther. Eyes of a deep emerald green, a mischievous grin planted on her lips. “Well, well, well, I haven’t seen your face before, I would remember a face like yours if I had. What can I get you today?” Her face inches away from mine for a short moment, leaning against the bar, I could have sworn she was going to give me a light peck on my lips at this rate. 

She pulled away from me, a tease, like my brother Tommy possibly would have liked to call her over and over again. Slightly irate, mostly frustrated at how my brother never told me about her. Never mind about the fact that he possibly got her pregnant while he was married to Maria. I found out by accident, when the birth certificate for a different child showed up on Tommy’s doorstep at Jackson while he was down here. I didn’t tell Maria when he saw it. At the time, I had stuffed it away into a crevice away from her. It was the last thing she needed to see then. 

“Who the hell are you?” I spat, I demanded an answer that would make this entire mess make some kind of sense to me.

“An absolute angel in my opinion. Though, I have a feeling you’re not here for that, are you?” She questioned with a playful tilt of her head, hands on either side of her hips. I looked away for a moment. I didn’t particularly pay attention to how she looked at me. She licked her lips under the guise of thinking. Though, if I had any sense, it was more likely because she was thinking about me in a certain way. She poured me a glass of whisky, “On the house pretty boy.” she whispered in a husky tone and winked at me.

Bold. A bold woman. Bolder than I assumed she would have been, no wonder Tommy was hooked on her. Addicted to her, more like. Maria, if only you knew what was down here and why it held your husband captive for days on end. 

The amber liquid in the glass, the ice clinking against the side like a wind chime, tink, tink, tink. The liquid slid down my throat, burning as it went down to my gut. Its familiar warmth spread through my chest. A cold comfort from the blazing heat outside. A temporary relief, a temporary reprieve from the storm brewing within me. The storm of questions, the storm of anger, the storm of betrayal. The storm of wanting to protect Maria, and the storm of wanting to beat the hell out of Tommy.

“So, who are you?” I repeated, my voice rougher than I intended. My eyes boring into hers, demanding answers.

“The name's Alessia,” she purred, her voice low and seductive. A dangerous curve formed on her lips, a challenge, a promise. “And you are?”

“Joel,” I replied, my voice a gruff counterpoint to her smooth purr. The name hung heavy in the air, a weight between us. A weight of unspoken words, of shared secrets, of a connection forged in the crucible of Tommy’s deceit.

“Huh. Didn't take you for a Joel.” She replied.

Her words hung in the air, a challenge. I didn't like it. Not one bit. Something about her was off, a mask she wore so effortlessly, a chameleon changing colours to suit her environment. I took another swig of whisky, the burn a welcome distraction from the churning storm in my gut.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. I wasn’t going to let her get away with that.

“For some reason, I thought you were more of an Andrew or a Eugene. Good name though.” Alessia replied, telling me what she thought it would have been. “You look like you spend more time thinking about what you should say than actually saying it. I know that look because I see it in the mirror in the morning. Grew up with that facial expression.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. How did she know? How could she possibly know that I was always the one to think before I spoke? It was like she was reading my mind, or worse, she knew me better than I knew myself.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse from the whisky and the shock.

Alessia leaned forward, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Relax, big guy,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “I'm just good at reading people. It's a skill, you know. Though, I'm better working with the deceased than the living. But you didn't hear that from me.” Pointing to the doctorate of Forensic Pathology with her full name on it. Alessia Romano. An Italian name for an Italian woman.

“Well, Alessia, I have a feeling we will be seeing more of each other from now on.” My lips formed into a cocky grin on my face.

“Lets see if you even survive the first week here, we can’t have another eager, attentive soul sent to the morgue now, can we?” She hummed a small tune, before continuing on to say, “Don’t get too cocky, you’re just asking for trouble.”

“Do you know Tommy?” Alessia asked me. Curious about why I was glaring at her 'boyfriend'. Did Tommy lie about being married? Knew him? I grew up with the guy. Oh. Oh! Dear. He hadn’t told her. He hadn’t told her who I was. A liar as well as a cheat.

I stared at the photo, my mind racing. Tommy had never mentioned her. Not once. The woman in the photo was beautiful, with a wild spirit in her eyes that mirrored the untamed nature of this place. But there was a sadness lurking beneath the surface, a depth that hinted at a complex life.

“Yeah, I know him,” I finally managed to say, my voice rough. “He's my brother.”

Alessia's eyes widened in surprise. “No shit?” She laughed, a short, sharp sound that cut through the silence. “He never mentioned having a brother.”

“Well, he’s a liar,” I replied, the words bitter on my tongue. “What's your story with him?”

Alessia took a sip of her drink, her gaze distant for a moment. “Long story short, we met here. He was running from something, or someone, I never really knew which. He was a mess, but there was something about him, a spark, you know? Not only that, but he pulled me out of my own little world.”

She paused, her eyes meeting mine. “We were good together, for a while. But then… things changed. He started disappearing for weeks at a time, always with excuses. I got tired of being the woman waiting for him to come back.”

A pang of sympathy shot through me. I knew that feeling all too well. Tommy had always been a wanderer, searching for something he could never quite find.

“So, you're saying he's been lying to you too?” I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.

“I'm saying he's been lying to both of us,” Alessia replied, her voice firm. “I think he's got some serious issues he needs to sort out.”

Abruptly woken up at three in the morning hearing Alessia’s voice in the Hotel room beside mine, “What do you mean she found out? Tommy. I can’t risk our child’s health like that. She won’t be able to grow up normally, Tommy, how many times do I have to tell you that? No, Tommy, she has epilepsy and zero eyesight, none. If you can’t care for her like she needs it. Then you should stay with your wife. Don’t give me more excuses, I’m not your wife, I am a mistress, a mistress that you lied to just like you lied to your wife. Stay home Tommy. Just stay home.” 

I heard her slam the phone down as the baby continued to cry into the night, I groaned as I hung my legs over the bed. Shoving a top and pants on. I walked out of my hotel room and knocked on her door. 

“Who is it?” She asked. Cautiously. 

“It’s Joel. The guy from the bar. The same guy that told you that Tommy was married.” I hope that was enough to let her know who knocked on her door. “Can I come in?” I asked, my voice low and steady. 

“As long as you’re willing to make coffee.” Alessia replied with a snort, answering the door, the oversized tie-dyed shirt and the hello kitty pyjama pants. The bear shaped slippers. The baby wrapped in a pastel pink blanket. “Sorry about the mess… I would have cleaned up more. But this week was rough from start to finish.”

Job applications on the dinner table for a position, a morgue attendant in the morgue, grim work, but she needed the money, essential for her financial stability. She likely didn’t want to continue to wait around for Tommy to come back again. The thought of relying on Tommy's uncertain return had grown tiresome.

“As much as I like being a bartender, I much prefer working in a morgue, it is far less noisy for starters and I know what I’m supposed to be doing most of the time.” Alessia said from her bedroom as she got changed.

I looked at the job applications she had on the dinner table. I took a closer look at her qualifications. 

A jolt of surprise went through me as I read through them, Harvard University. Tommy’s mistress was far smarter than I gave her credit for. I mean, sure, she showed me the doctorate she hung up in the bar. It was too far for me to take a clear look at it from where I was sitting at the time. Not only that, she got it last year when she was 29 years old. She must be 30 by now. I gulped. Twenty years, give or take, between Tommy and her. Twenty plus years between her and me. 

I looked at her, wet hair from her shower, yoga pants and a shirt that said, “Hang in there” with a cat clinging onto the telephone wire. Oddly fitting for someone who appears to be eternally at the end of her patience. Odd to reconcile with the fact that Tommy, my little brother Tommy, had a mistress who was a Harvard graduate. A woman who was smart enough to know that she was better off without him.

I sat there, stunned. I’d always assumed Alessia was a simple woman, someone Tommy had picked up along the way. But now, she seemed like a world away from the life I knew. A Harvard graduate, a single mother, and a woman who seemed to have her life more together than I did.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Alessia shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m used to people being surprised. I guess it’s not the image they have of a single mother.”

I nodded. “I suppose not.”

“My godfather encouraged it. Said it was better than living in the mafia for the rest of my life.” Alessia said as if being part of a mafia family wasn’t concerning on its own. She saw the look of total confusion on my face, she clarified further, but I didn’t know whether that made me feel worse or better, “Tommy isn’t in the mafia. Don’t get that twisted. I was.”

“You were in the mafia?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The revelation was so unexpected that it left me speechless. I'd never imagined Alessia, with her gentle demeanour and soft smile, to have been involved in such a dangerous and violent world.

“More like grew up into it.” Alessia answered, “Born in raised in Calabria, Italy. The home for an Italian mafia called The 'Ndrangheta, my parents were in it. My grandparents, so on and so forth. A generational thing if you’re a Romano. Which I am. I also know someday I’ll eventually go back home. Not any time soon, mind you.”

I wanted to ask her if she was ashamed, but I didn’t need to ask her that because I knew for a fact she felt it regardless of whether I asked her or not. I wanted to bring her and her baby back home. Not for Tommy’s sake. No, I wouldn’t do it for him, no matter how much he wanted to keep this a secret. 

My deep wish to have her and her little one with me in a place we could call ours never faded away.

I really wanted to be the loving and reliable dad that her child needed, always there for both of them no matter what.

What I truly aimed for was to give them a life that was safe and sound, where they didn't have to worry about anything bad happening.

More than anything, I dreamed of creating a home that was cosy and steady, where they could feel truly at ease.

I longed to make sure that the baby had everything they needed to grow up happy and healthy, in a place that was full of love and care.

Even though she had history with Tommy, I knew in my heart that it was me who could really make a difference in their lives.

Tommy Miller, If you’re reading this. I am already gone, I have left with our child. As I can’t remain somewhere where I am now. I am clearly not your first choice. Though I have a strange feeling I never was to begin with. We have a child together, we can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep living like I am your dirty little secret to keep in the dark. A dirty secret to have your way with whenever you’re bored. Please, please, for all that is still good in this world. Don’t contact me. If you care about me. Don’t reach out. Don’t contact me ever again. I don’t want to hear any more lies from you. Not now and not ever. Arrivederci and Buonanotte, Alessia Romano.

P.S. Those two words mean Goodbye and Goodnight in Italian. As you don’t speak or read the language, it is only right for me to do this last thing, this last favour for you.

I sighed, putting the note back onto the kitchen counter, I managed to convince her to leave a note. I didn’t say how to leave it, though. It felt more like a last kiss. A last, I’ll see you later. Even though that in of itself was a complete lie. Alessia would be long gone, up to Jackson, by the time he got into his car to go back there. I remained in her old hotel room to drive home the point that she didn’t want to wait for him to make time for her. 

I walked over to the kitchen sink to grab a glass of water to process my feelings further. Tommy would be here soon. Tommy would be here in the mostly empty hotel room while she unpacked in Jackson. The same place I would return to. Right at her side. Though I have a feeling it would be a far messier ‘break-up’ than I had growing up in regard to Tommy. 

I know lashing out at Tommy won’t do anything. It would only make matters worse than they are already. I didn't know what to think of this now, as I heard Tommy in the distance, yelling into the phone to possibly one of her family members most likely her older brother Giovanni, saying things like, “Bring them back to me. I can't afford to lose them like this.” and “What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Tommy.” Giovanni reminded him. 

Tommy's voice rose in frustration. “But I need to talk to her. I need to explain everything.”

“You've been explaining everything for years, Tommy. It's time to accept that she's done.”

“No, I can't accept that. I love her. I love Alessia.”

“And she loves you, Tommy. But she loves her child more.”

I managed to get the number of a man named Giovanni Romano from Tommy. It took a little convincing, but I managed to get it. The urge to even shake some into his mind a little. It remained at the back of my mind. Sitting there like a beast waiting to strike at a moment's notice. It shoved the feeling aside as I dialled the number as I sat in my truck. 

The comforting hum of the engine rumbling as the phone rang a few times before it picked up. “Ciao. Giovanni Romano speaking. How can help you?” he said smoothly. Almost like charming personalities just runs in the family. The same kind of smooth charm you would only find in movies like The Godfather and monochrome noir movies.

“It’s Joel. Joel Miller. I was hoping to get an update on Alessia. Just to see if she made it to Jackson alright.” I hoped she got there alright. I knew Giovanni wouldn’t do anything that would risk the safety and health of either Alessia or her baby, Alessandra.

“Yeah. She’s unpacking in the apartment as I speak. She did tell me to say that she missed you, though. I didn’t think she’d like anyone that much. You must have done something to get in her good graces.” Giovanni answered. I felt a wave of relief when I heard the news.

I couldn’t help but smile at Giovanni’s words, I imagined her in a thick parka and walking through the snow muttering Italian curses about how cold it is. “She’s a city girl. She’s used to the warmth of Italy. I’m sure she’ll get used to the cold eventually.”

“She adapts pretty fast to different environments, to be fair.” Giovanni said, his voice softening. “But I'm still worried about her. She's going to need a lot of support.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to help her. I promise.” I said to him. It was for me too. Something that I wanted to hear as well. Strange to have myself say to someone else, though.

“I heard that from Tommy. I felt weird. Odd even. Hearing it from you, I believe it more, I know for a fact she’s going to be taken care of. I don’t have a lingering gut feeling like I did with Tommy. I hope I made some assemblance of sense there.” 

“You're making perfect sense, Giovanni. Tommy's… well, he's not exactly known for his reliability. But I am. I'll be there for Alessia and the baby, no matter what.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure Alessia will be, too.”

“I hope so. And thank you for letting me know she's safe.”

“You're welcome. And Joel, one more thing. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. We're family now.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Giovanni. That means a lot.”

Once I hung up, my phone pinged again, this time a text with a photo captioned, ‘Snug like a bug in a rug.’ The photo of Alessia in a parka, scarf, beanie, and mittens. Along with winter boots. She looked cuter in her winter gear. In addition to Giovanni's caption of, 'Wild Marshmallow escapes to Jackson. She’s a little too excited to be in the snow. She’s like a kid in a candy store. I don’t think she’s ever seen snow before.'

[welcometothepissgang]

List of omo fic ideas

Two of you liked the post so ask and you shall receive: a list, as it currently stands, of omo ideas. Yes, these all include my OCs and yes I ship them with canon characters okay okay.

[Title TBD] - Completed

Pairing: NY x Italy

Summary: After a day of traveling, Feliciano finds himself pretty desperate

Breaking the Seal - Completed

Pairing: NY x Romano

Summary: Lovino and Nikki go out to the local wine bar. Lovino learns he should start cutting himself off.

Stubborn as an Arse

Pairing: Spain x Ireland

Summary: Antonio’s in little space watching a movie with Maire. He’s a big boy and can hold it until the end of the movie, right?

Overalls

Pairing: Spain x Ireland

Summary: After a long, hot day of gardening, Antonio regrets his clothing choice.

The Fountain

Pairing: Italy x San Marino

Summary: It’s date night for Feli and Alessia, and both of them end up wet for various reasons.

The Shame Game

Pairing: Italy x San Marino

Summary: After an unfortunate accident, Feliciano and Alessia discover a kink of theirs. They are unaware that it’s the same one.

Yes I’m aware these are all for the same characters. May update this as i think of more.

[ryuzakemo128]

Cara Mia (My Beloved)

Pairing: Billionaire! Joel Miller x Alessia Romano (Joel Miller x F! OC)

Content Warning: Cussing, Angst, no outbreak, post break-up, age gap (Joel is 55-56. Alessia is 28 turning 29), Jealous Joel.

Indirect Character Mention: F! Reader Supermodel(21yrs)

Words: 1021

Summary:

Masterlist Dividers

Note: Mood board is for Alessia Romano. Alessia Romano is an OC. Not a canon character. Sneak peek of Upcoming One-shot with bonus mood board.

Alessia had decided to start up an onlyfans ever since he broke up with her, she needed the extra cash. It was one of the few ways she could earn it without the extra leg work. She spent that entire week getting ready for it, setting up her profile, taking photos and videos, and planning her content.

He broke up with her to go out with a young supermodel. She said go ahead and do it. Just don’t be shocked when I move on from you to someone else better than you.

Was it petty of her to add those last few words? Yes.

Did she care how it impacted him? Fuck no.

Why should she care about him after she ‘set him free’?

Joel decided the best course of action after she disappeared for a week was to yell at her, who remained passed out in her lime green hammock.

“Where the hell have you been?” he roared, the rage boiling within him mixing with the worry that had consumed him during her absence.

“Well. You said fuck off, right?” Alessia answered, causing him to grit his teeth even harder.

She took it literal as possible and fucked off, right after he told her to.

She didn't have a couch in her living room, but she did have a lime green hammock. Not only that, but she must have passed out on it after passing out after four cocktails at the bar.

The television still had The Simpsons playing, the DVDs on her coffee table against the red brick wall, the black curtains shut tight blocking the sun from taking a peek inside.

“You're drunk,” Joel stated, the disbelief in his voice palpable.

“Hungover, it means I was drunk 𝓎𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓎” she corrected him with a smirk, though her voice was groggy, her eyes were still half-closed.

Joel's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to her, the wooden floorboards creaking under his weight. He grabbed the edge of the hammock, giving it a rough shake. “Do you have any idea what I've been through the past week?”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to break up. Don't come walking over to my place because you saw me talking to another guy.” Alessia retorted. “What's the matter, your 21-year-old supermodel girlfriend not good enough for you?”

Alessia groaned as she got up to shove her pyjama top on, a men's graphic t-shirt with marvel heroes plastered over the front of it. The same one she wears to bed most nights. She didn't bother putting her pyjama bottoms back on as she walked into her small, tiny, kitchenette, taking out the leftover pizza from last night to have for breakfast.

“What's your problem?” Joel followed her, the anger still resonating in his voice.

Alessia ignored him to warm up her pizza, getting her leftover soft drink from the fridge and Joel continued to speak, “You're not even sorry? Do you know how worried I was? I called everyone, I looked everywhere!”

“Why the fuck do you care?” She snapped back at him. “You have everything you want. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“I care because you're still important to me, whether you like it or not,” Joel said, his voice cracking.

He slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, making the plates rattle. “I thought something had happened to you. I can't just turn that off because you decided to ghost me after I made a mistake!”

Joel had been told that Alessia started an onlyfans that week, she didn't know how he found or who told him about it. Was it Thomas? Did he tell him? Was it Ellie? Did she do it to spite her? Was it his new girlfriend that told him about it? Who told him? Why did they tell him about it? What did they have to gain from telling him what she was doing now?

Joel spoke up again, much to her dismay, “What's with the onlyfans bullshit, huh? Did you do that to get back at me?”

“No, I did it because I needed the money, and it’s my body, Joel. I can do what I want with it. If it’s not with you, then it’s with someone else. I’m sorry if that bruises your little man ego, but that’s not my problem anymore. You chose the supermodel over me, remember?”

Joel’s jaw tightened as he watched her take a bite of the pizza, the cheese stretching out in a long string. “So, you’re just going to whore yourself out because I made a mistake? That’s your solution?”

“Did I hurt your small feelings? ”Alessia sarcastically remarked. “Did I bruise that pathetic small ego of yours? I have a date this evening, so you better shove off before I call security on your dumb ass.”

A date? Joel was caught off guard by her nonchalant announcement. “You're seeing someone else already?” he asked, his voice laced with both anger and hurt.

“A great guy from where I grew up in Italy.” Alessia answered.

Joel felt a pang of jealousy stab through his chest. “Italy? How long have you been seeing him?”

“He's the guy that helps me with my onlyfans content.” Alessia answered indirectly.

This revelation hit Joel like a ton of bricks. The rage that had been simmering inside him began to boil over. He couldn't believe that not only had she moved on, but she was also flaunting it in his face.

He stepped closer to her, his eyes burning with fury. “You're going to let some stranger film you? After everything we've been through?”

“He is most definitely not the guy filming.” Alessia implied he was the guy acting in said onlyfans content with a smirk on her face, which only added more fuel to Joel's rage.

“You're fucking him?” Joel's voice grew louder, his face contorted into a mask of rage.

“Why do you care?” Alessia walked to her bedroom to get her outfit ready for that evening. “I'm finally moving on. You should be happy for me.” Alessia walked into her closet looking through her black dresses to wear that night.

She finally settled on her A-line black dress with leg slit, batwing sleeves, and bat hem line. She had bought it from a designer store for this exact purpose.

“You don't get it, do you?” Joel followed her, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. “You're not just anyone to me, Alessia. You can't just replace me with some random guy from your past!”

“Watch me.”

[ryuzakemo128]

Padre's Second Home?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Alessia Romano / Thomas Miller x Alessia Romano

Content Warning: Second Home, Second Family business and drama, baby health issues, cheating, affair, jealous Joel?, age gap (Alessia is 30, Joel is 55-56 and Thomas is 50-51.), No Outbreak AU.

Words: 1,770

Masterlist

Credit (Dividers): @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: Joel's point of view and Tommy's point of view will come in two other parts.

Summary: “An absolute angel in my opinion. Though, I have a feeling you’re not here for that, are you?” She questioned with a playful tilt of her head, hands on either side of her hips. Looking at him up and down while he wasn’t looking at her directly. She licked her lips under the guise of thinking. Though if he had any sense, it was more likely because she found him to be rather attractive.

Alessia, she sauntered over to where he sat at the bar with the grace of a lurking panther. Eyes of a deep emerald green, a mischievous grin planted on her lips. “Well, well, well, I haven’t seen your face, I would remember a face like yours if I had. What can I get you today?” Her face inches away from his for a short moment, leaning against the bar, he could have sworn she was going to give him a light peck on his lips at this rate. 

She pulled away from him, a tease, like his brother Tommy liked to call her over and over again. Slightly irate, mostly frustrated at how his brother never told him about her. Never mind about the fact that he got her pregnant while he was married to Maria. He found out by accident, when the birth certificate for a different child showed up on Tommy’s doorstep at Jackson while he was down here.

“Who the hell are you?” He spat, he demanded an answer that would make this mess make some kind of sense to him.

“An absolute angel in my opinion. Though, I have a feeling you’re not here for that, are you?” She questioned with a playful tilt of her head, hands on either side of her hips. Looking at him up and down while he wasn’t looking at her directly. She licked her lips under the guise of thinking. Though if he had any sense, it was more likely because she found him to be rather attractive.

“My name is Alessia, I’d say it’s nice to meet you. But I would be lying to you.” She tensed up as he took a step closer to her.

“Well, Alessia, I have a feeling we will be seeing more of each other from now on.” His lips formed into a cocky grin on his face.

“Lets see if you even survive the first week here, we can’t have another eager, attentive soul sent to the morgue now, can we?” She hummed a small tune, before continuing on to say, “Don’t get too cocky, it is just asking for trouble.” 

Many have tried, many have failed, she didn’t fall for the tricks and false truths laid out to her by those who sought to harm her or her loved ones. Leading to heated arguments and debates in the past. Whoever this guy was, he had to be there for a reason. He seemed deadset on following through with something. Whatever that something was. She didn’t want any part of it.

His face fell once he caught sight of his younger brother, Tommy. Tommy Miller, the same man who was cheating on his wife with this young woman in front of him now. Assuming they were together. Assuming this was the woman he was seeing on the side. They locked eyes with each other. Tension hung in the air, for it felt to be a life-time. 

“Do you know Tommy?” Alessia asked him. Curious about why this man was glaring at her boyfriend.

He left a hefty tip, refusing to answer her question, leaving the bar. Leaving her confused. Baffled even. As Tommy walked over to her, pretending to not see that he was there. He even lied about not knowing who he is.

“Are you sure you don’t know who he is?” She continued to ask him again. “He looked at you like he knew you.”

“I have no idea who he is. Beats me, he might think he knows me, but he might have gotten me mixed up with someone else.” He avoided her questions, too. It felt far too suspicious to her to let it go fully. 

The stranger showed up this morning, stirred up more trouble without having to speak much or do much of anything. Dust clouds forming in the distance meant a dust storm was coming this way sometime soon. She had warned him about it for the past few days, she said it would be coming any day now. It seemed like it fell on deaf ears.

He avoided her all afternoon, which upset her, she didn’t want to fight with him again. She felt like she was always walking on eggshells around him. He insisted on always paying for cash for stuff, as he didn’t trust the bank to not track down his expenses for some reason or another. She could never make heads or tails of what he wanted from her at times. She was either doing too much or not doing enough. Now whatever was going on between the two men as her tenser than ever.

Why didn’t Tommy answer her question?

Why is he avoiding her now?

What has she done wrong this time?

Did he have something to hide from her? She told him months ago that she didn’t want any secrets to go on between the two of them. For a while it seemed to go fine. Swell even. Until the day this stranger rocked up into town. 

It had seemed that Tommy hadn’t been keeping his half of the promise they made together. As she had told him, “If you break this promise. I’m leaving you and taking our daughter with me. Do you understand me?”

Frustration gnawed at her insides, chewed at her bones, like a beaver with an addiction to eating wood. Leaving her wanting less of him and more of herself. It seemed like Tommy’s past came knocking sooner than she had hoped it would. Then she had felt prepared for. She had to put their child first, nothing he would say to her would change her mind about it. If leaving meant goodbye and farewell. Then so be it.

Why did it have to be now? 

Why can’t I just have more time?

What did he want from Tommy?

‘I can’t stay here and listen to more lies. To hear him trickle down the truth bit by little bit. I have to leave. Staying here will only make the hurt grow larger.’ She sighed, picking up her phone to dial her brother’s number, ending her shift early and saying her Nanny had to leave early. 

The note she had decided to leave Tommy when she packed their suitcase, her older brother, Giovanni. Carrying them to his car. Muttering curses and swearing under his breath in Italian.

Tommy Miller, If you’re reading this. I am already gone, I have left with our child. As I can’t remain somewhere where I am now. I am clearly not your first choice. Though I have a strange feeling I never was to begin with. We have a child together, we can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep living like I am your dirty little secret to keep in the dark. A dirty secret to have your way with whenever you’re bored. Please, please, for all that is still good in this world. Don’t contact me. If you care about me. Don’t reach out. Don’t contact me ever again. I don’t want to hear any more lies from you. Not now and not ever.

Arrivederci and Buonanotte, Alessia Romano.

P.S. Those two words mean Goodbye and Goodnight in Italian. As you don’t speak or read the language, it is only right for me to do this last thing, this last favour for you.

A picture of a sad face sketched onto the bottom of the note to drive home just how upset she was with him. At how he made her feel about this whole mess.

Alessandra, a small, tiny little baby, premature by at least four weeks. A tiny little thing. Wrapped in a pastel pink onesie, only eleven months old, curious about her surroundings. Fascinated by the sounds of birds. A pity, Tommy was far more concerned with things that didn’t involve his own flesh and blood. 

It should have driven her mad, crazy even according to her second brother, Augusto, who seemed to enjoyed holding Alessandra. Singing to her softly. 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. He made his choice long ago, and I should have left then too.” She groaned. “And don’t smoke in the car, Alessandra has enough to deal with, I will not have you add lung cancer to that list.” she took the cigarettes from both of her brothers. 

Alessandra Romano or Alessandra Miller, depending on which birth certificate taken into account. Born into this world tiny, almost dying upon delivery, and on top of it all. She would never be able to see. She had epileptic seizures, on unlucky nights it was at least 9-10 a night. If she was lucky, it was four to five a night. Not much Alessia could do, other than attend the paediatric appointments, give Alessandra her medicine and do her best to make it work.

Alessia switched off her phone, one thing she didn’t want to do is to take calls from Tommy. Even as Alessandra slept in her car seat next to Augusto. As they head to a motel the next town over. Away from the dust storm and away from whatever mess between those two men would be. Shoving her phone into the deep, dark crevice of her handbag, underneath all the clutter she had yet to clean out. 

‘Madre, Padre, What would you have done in my shoes? What would you do in my place?’ She didn’t dare voice the question aloud. Not here, not now of all places, it would have to wait until they were at the motel. A safe distance away. Thanking whatever god that exists that Tommy and her hadn’t decided to get married any time soon.

It most certainly didn’t stop or even prevent Tommy from calling her brother, demanding that he speak to her, as they settled into the motel room. The loud ringtone, it went off like a siren, waking Alessandra up from her nap. Her cries immediate and Alessia rushed to her side to soothe her. 

“Answer the damn phone outside.” Alessia told him. 

Giovanni answered his phone as he walked outside the motel room, closing the door behind him, she sighed relieved for at least a moment. Her baby in her arms as she rocked her to a state of calm. As she had hoped, prayed, that Tommy would have gotten the hint by now. It seems by the sound of his voice. He hadn’t picked up on the fact that I had remained true to the promise I made to him long before Alessandra came into the world. 

Reap the consequences, my dear. There will be many more coming your way soon. 

[ryuzakemo128]

Smother

Pairing: Alessia Romano x Supermodel Female Reader x Joel Miller

Content Warning: Region (Somewhat I guess?), implication of depression and suicidal ideation. Alessia keeping secrets from Joel and you, I guess.? Cussing, swearing and mild spice.

Note: If you want more with the female reader also involved, let me know, and I'll make more like it in the future. Another thing to keep in mind, the female reader is shorter than both Joel and Alessia. Alessia is also taller than both Joel and the female reader. The song influenced by this is - Smother by Daughter.

Words: 727

Masterlist

Dividers

Summary: Alessia's prayer and midnight confession. "Who am I now that my parents are gone? Who am I if all I do is kill? Will I become my father now? Not that it matters now, my soul is already damned."

I am wasted, losing time On a foolish, fragile spine

"Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven, I come to you with blood covered hands. If I am to die today, then let it be done as swiftly and quickly as possible. They shall dance upon my grave, my death will come with much celebration, I am sure of it.' She said in a hushed whisper, looking upon the portrait of her late mother, deceased for the past fourteen years.

I want all that is not mine I want him but we're not right

"Death, dying in the world of organised crime was always seen as a potential bonus to many of them. Most seem to forget that Rome took ages to build. Yet it took only a single day to bring it to ruins." Alessia couldn't bring herself to finish her prayer. But she knew she had to finish, no matter how much she wanted to run far away.

In the darkness, I will meet my creators And they will all agree, that I'm a suffocator

"Who am I now that my parents are gone? Who am I if all I do is kill? Will I become my father now? Not that it matters now, my soul is already damned. The whispers of the ancients beckon me, but I know they're not there, but I still hear my mother's crying in the bathroom when I was a child. The smell of her perfume still lingers in my nose. The feel of her tears on my face as she told me she was sorry for bringing me into this mess. That's all I remember before she left." Tears trickled down her face, one by one, like ants marching to their own death.

I should go now quietly For my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep Where all my layers can become reeds

"I refuse to remember her as the corpse on the floor of our living room, my father holding her in his arms. He was a man lost, a king without his queen. And now here I am, a pawn in this twisted game of chess, with no queen to save me from the grief of checkmate. I am nothing but a soldier in a war that was never mine to fight. And now I fight for them. For their memory, for their justice. But is this the path they would have wanted for me?"

Alessia could not finish her morning prayer, for it was the fourteenth anniversary of her parent's death, and she couldn't hold in her tears anymore. She did not want to hold in her tears longer than she felt like she could.

Her lungs burning from the dry heaving, the sobbing that wracked through her ribs like a storm at sea, she took a deep, shuddering breath. The grand room, silent, except for the mournful echoes of her sorrow. Walls, adorned with the spoils of her father's reign, stared back at her, as if in judgment. Her heart felt as cold and lifeless as the marble beneath her bare feet.

All my limbs can become trees All my children can become me What a mess I leave

Alessia remained there for a solid minute, her knees pressed into the cold marble, her forehead resting against the wooden chair in front of her. The room felt suffocating, a prison of her own making. She knew she had to get up, had to face the day, but the weight of her sorrow was too great. With a sniff, she wiped away the last of her tears and stood, her legs wobbly from the sudden movement.

Alessia had a warm bath, Joel reading to hear eased her depressive episode to a larger degree than he would know of. The words from his favourite book, "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy, filled the room, bringing a temporary peace to the turmoil within her. The scent of lavender filled the air, a scent that reminded her of her mother's gentle embrace. She closed her eyes, letting the water's warmth seep into her bones, trying to wash away the chill that had settled deep within her.

I sometimes wish I'd stayed inside My mother Never to come out

[ryuzakemo128]

Infinite thanks, Grazie infinite.

Pairing: Billionaire Joel Miller x Alessia Romano

Content Warnings: angst, cussing, graphic violence, traumatic past, emotional manipulation Trigger Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, death of a loved one.

Words: 2792

Note: Inspired by the song attached. I suggest you listen to this while you read it. If anything wrong in this related to the Italian used inside this, please let me know. I want to get it right.

Summary: “I have come close to death before,” Alessia murmured to her brother, Augusto, “I admit it did more damage than I would ever like to admit. I feel like I am the worst the earth has to offer them. Bane of all others.”

Masterlist Dividers.

Alessia, a relatively young, attractive looking woman from the Italian mafia according to my younger brother. Tommy. The older looking guy she tagged along with? He did most of the talking. According to him. She was not fond of talking to people she could not trust or would not try to trust either. As she worked on maintaining her sniper rifle in the living room. Clearly displaying the fact, make the wrong move. She would not hesitate to kill either one of us.

She worked on her sniper rifle as he spoke, not taking her eyes off it for a second. Part of me wanted to walk over to start a conversation with her. Instead of tap dancing around for the sake of, the guy speaking in flowery sentences. Which I drilled in a sense of total bullshit.

Yet I know for a fact, he might not approve of that action, and I remained at my brother’s side. For now, at the very least. Her emerald-green eyes, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin, flicked up to meet mine for a brief moment before returning to her task. A silent thrill buzzed through me. I didn’t understand why it did. I was certainly older than her by more than a decade.

A sharp jawline and a stubborn set to her mouth that made her look like she had seen more than her fair share of trouble. She also certainly did not want either me or Tommy to try anything. Especially if we wanted their help with this certain delicate situation.

A Forensics pathologist, specialist in death and causing death. Ironic in more ways than one. What should I make of her? It felt like she is eternally a self-eating cycle, dealing with death in all aspects.

It should have felt enough for me. Yet I saw how she carried herself. It unsettled me. A coiled snake prepared to strike at a moment's notice. The rifle packed away inside a gun case. Hidden beneath the floorboards underneath her lime green hammock.

I will always hope she never needs it. Ever. Especially not here. It would mean she never felt safe anywhere. It would mean it was a drastic enough choice was made to force her to bring it back out. An outcome I would prefer to avoid altogether.

Born and raised in Calabria, Italy, staying with her godparents in their Villa in America every so often. Sometimes once or twice a year according to their housekeeper, Gail Barnes. He would take care of the villa while they lived inside of Italy for the Romano family.

Meaning they lived here during the Christmas holidays, the month before December and the month after. Leaving for Italy again in February.

It was a surprise to me. They allowed us to stay here this year. They rarely ever let outsiders stay in their Villa for such a long duration.

Their trust was something Tommy had earned over the years. Though I always wondered how. I also did not really want to know in what way he had earned their trust so implicitly. Giovanni continued to speak to my brother, while Alessia would every so often look up to glare at the both of us.

Odd to see a 37-year-old man with the energy, excitement, and nerve of a teenager. The silver chain necklace, the open satin shirt, the flashy rings. It's like he hadn't aged a day since he left Calabria. Though, Giovanni looked more like he was twenty-nine than thirty-seven.

My skin crawled once I heard her silent prayers with her two brothers either side of her. Not the typical prayer I would have assumed she would utter from those lips of hers. It was more like self-blame than a plea for forgiveness.

“I have come close to death before,” Alessia murmured to her brother, Augusto, “I admit it did more damage than I would ever like to admit. My therapist told me it was good to write down how I feel. To vent both verbally and in written form, I do not feel guilty for surviving the accident. At the same time, I also feel like I am the worst the earth has to offer them. Bane of all others. Survivors guilt is what my therapist told me it was. Yet it feels more like my insides are on fire and everyone else is just laughing at me at all hours of every day. Though that is more like a me issue to go through and I will let no other hear of it. Not even the devil himself with ever pry into my darkest secrets.”

He wrote each word she had uttered into her journal without judgement, like a silent prayer going to a god who would not listen to her pleas no matter what happened on earth.

He was at odds with what she was telling herself. Even though it was the byproduct of all the death and misery they have become desensitised to.

Accustomed to it, it came to them naturally like breathing or swimming. Unlike those who would stick their nose up and pretend it does not exist.

“Mia cara mamma, nella morte sei ancora bella,” she uttered in a hushed whisper to their mother’s portrait, long gone, but never forgotten. Alessia held Augusto's hand ever so tightly. More for his comfort than her own. Held tightly to keep his own emotions from boiling over like lava spilling from a volcano.

Her older brother, Giovanni, comforted by her too, as rough as both of her brothers looked. Especially around the edges, from further away and from an outsider’s perspective. In reality, they were gentle souls. Taking in solace in the fact their little sister, Alessia looked so much like her mother. Little to no wonder at all to why they were comforted by still seeing her face every day.

Giovanni called her beautiful repeatedly, she replied each time with, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Giovanni, but thank you.”

I thought it was odd, why would he say that to her over and over again? Until Augusto, in a haze of a drunken stupor said, “Alessia looks like our mother, Giovanni is scared we will lose her too, the way we lost mamma and papà. He’s trying to keep her with us through her image.”

Giovanni glared at him, but said nothing, a silent admission of truth. The weight of their father’s death in a car bombing a few years ago still heavy on their shoulders. A tragic event that had brought them closer together but had also left a gaping hole in their hearts. A hole that could never be filled, no matter how much power or wealth they accumulated.

Their youngest sibling, Caterina, still a young baby, wrapped in a warm blanket, slept peacefully in the crib next to the fireplace. Giovanni doted on her with pastel coloured blankets and blue crocheted toys. Augusto doted on her with homemade food made with the love of a man who had lost his taste for life outside the villa walls.

Alessia doted on her by soothing her to sleep with her humming, a melody that sounded almost as if it were a lullaby whispered by an angel, but had a hint of something darker beneath it. She would also speak to her as if she was speaking to a middle manager, with the kind of seriousness and urgency that you would expect from someone who had seen the worst of humanity and wanted to protect the purest part of it.

Reading fairy tales to her while also inserting, "Don't speak to strangers" and "Never take candy from a van" was a bizarre mix, but it was their reality. Their world was a tapestry of darkness and the faintest threads of light. The house was still, save for the crackling fire and the soft whispers of the siblings. Each one lost in their own thoughts, yet bound together by the invisible chains of familial duty and grief.

"Never trust a serpent," into the storyline was something that was second nature to her. It was a stark reminder of their reality. Even in moments of innocence, the shadow of their lifestyle loomed over them like a specter.

Her brothers and her young sister would always be her first priority regardless of what the rest of the world thought of them all. Each time she would reaffirm this, they would feel relieved, hopeful, and safe. She had gone through hell and back. She would do so again, again and again. No matter what.

After dinner each night, Alessia would read to her two brothers, reading to them much like their mother read to all three of them growing up. Holding the old worn deep brown leather-bound book in her hands, reading from it as they slowly drifted off to sleep. Feeling safe in her care. Her words were like a balm to their souls, a gentle reminder of a time when their mother was still with them, reading these very same words.

Shutting the bedroom curtains, kissing them on the forehead as she tucked them in and she told them ‘I love you’ at the doorway before closing the door.

Alessia walked down the stairs to sit outside on the front porch for an hour before bed. After they were all finally asleep for the night. Walking out there to vape rather than look for a conversation with anyone in particular.

“You ok?” I couldn't help but ask her in a low almost seductive whisper.

“Depends on your definition of ok.” Alessia answered with a snort.

“Depends on your definition of ok.” Alessia answered with a snort. The baby monitor on her hip in case her little sister woke up crying. “You know how it is, right? I hope so, otherwise, this is a weird conversation to have right now. Good news, don't have to do much for mother's day or father's day. Though I have a feeling it would be more work now if my brother has anything to say about it.”

I offhandedly mentioned the painting of the large dog in the guest house, which looked like an Italian renaissance artist painted it. Just to prevent the conversation getting darker than it had already.

“You saw Butterscotch?” Alessia said, which baffled me since I hadn’t mentioned the name of the dog. “He was my first dog ever. He was the grumpiest thing we ever had. He would follow you constantly if you had sasuage or steak. He was a great pyrenees crossed with a saint bernard. He was the best, he also tolerated me bringing home strays like you two.”

Her eyes searched the night sky for a moment, the stars shining down like distant eyes, watching over them both. She took a deep drag from her vape, the blue light briefly illuminating her sharp cheekbones. “Giovanni painted that. He was the artistic one. Still is, but he doesn't paint anymore. He says it's not worth the trouble.”

I didn't expect her to go on a spiel about her dog like this, it was like a part of her had opened up, albeit briefly. “You miss him?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing without tipping the scale into something heavier.

“Of course I do. Hard not to miss something you love completely and unconditionally. It would be hard to forget or move on from.” Alessia answered. “I did end up getting puppies again of the same type some time afterwards. Giovanni was not pleased at first, but even he had to admit that they brought life into the house again. It was like a piece of Butterscotch came back to us. Just smaller and more hyperactive. They have their moments, sure, but it's their innocence that makes it all worth it.”

“They're like the first snowfall of winter, beautiful yet fleeting. You know it will melt away eventually, but you cherish every moment of it while it lasts. Though we have also adopted cats since then and they are more inclined to give you attitude, which is something Giovanni and I both love equally,” she said with a wry smile, her eyes never leaving the sky.

“Augusto is wary of me.” I confessed noticing how he had been eyeing me since we arrived.

“Yeah. He's like that with anyone, he needs to warm up to you like a feline or at least it will feel like a feline warming up to a human," she said with a smirk, “But he has his reasons. We've all been through a lot, Joel. Our walls are built up high for a reason.”

“What about you? Do you have any hobbies? Let me guess, knitting.” She joked, in a lighthearted gab, at the age gap between the two of us.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Not quite. I was never one for needles and yarn. I used to play the guitar, though.”

“Fair. I was never fond of that either. I did fencing as a hobby because it got my grandmother and grandfather excited to see me do something 'normal'. They didn’t know I was learning how to kill in close combat.” She smirked, a hint of darkness behind her humour. “But I suppose playing an instrument is less... alarming.”

“Guitar playing is a good way to relieve stress, though,” I said, watching her intently. “Maybe you should give it a shot when things calm down around here.”

“Maybe. Although, I am more likely to pick fencing back up than to strum guitar strings.” She took a drag of her e-cigarette, exhaling a plume of mint-scented vapour. “But I do appreciate the suggestion, Joel. It’s been a while since someone offered me anything other than a new target or a way to make a quick buck off my skills. I might even teach you to shoot better.”

“Well, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to aiming and firing, but I wouldn’t mind learning from a pro like you,” I replied, a smirk playing on my lips. Her eyes lit up at the challenge, and for a moment, it felt like we were two kids, swapping skills in a friendly rivalry.

Alessia and her sweet quickly became something I had heard of, often  venturing out to see it for myself late at night whenever she snuck into the kitchen muttering how she was going to devour an entire thing of apple topped with butterscotch ice cream.

Alessia and her sweet quickly became something I had heard of, often venturing out to see it for myself late at night whenever she snuck into the kitchen muttering how she was going to devour an entire thing of apple topped with butterscotch ice cream. Like a chorus of rats within a trench coat scurrying to her bedroom to eat her little late night snack in relative peace.

Her sweet tooth, well known within her clan, her godfather encouraged it as a way to keep her sweet. The irony was not lost on her, but it was a comfort she held onto fiercely. It was one of the last connections she had to her mother, who had a penchant for baking.

Whenever she felt overwhelmed, she would retreat to the kitchen, whipping up a batch of cannoli or sfogliatelle, filling the air with the scent of warm sugar and cinnamon. It was a way to keep her mother's love close, a piece of home in a world that had otherwise gone to hell.

My gift of a desert got her teared up, puppy dog eyes, “Thank you, Grazie infinite. Infinite thanks.” she gushed. It was just butterscotch pudding, a simple little dessert I bought. She didn't care that I didn't make it, she just appreciated the gesture.

By the time she went to bed, “Goodnight, Joel. Don't hurt yourself getting to bed, though, with your age and all.” She joked, her voice a soft melody in the quiet night. I just rolled my eyes at her and said goodnight. Her laughter was like music to my ears, something I hadn’t heard in a long time.

Her footsteps going up the stairs, the small giggle and the gentle thud of the door closing. I leaned back into the chair, my eyes still glued to the TV. The leftover butterscotch pudding sat on the coffee table, a reminder of the sweetness that had graced our evening. The house was silent, the only sound was the faint snoring from Augusto's room and the occasional crack of the old wooden floorboards. It was moments like these that made me miss my own family, the quiet moments that seemed so far out-of-reach now.