Her Enemy. Her child's Father; Hate and Love

Nyla POV

Who would have  thought that the sweet sound of melody and laughter echoing all over the mansion, and the fresh scent of jasmine and summer wine…would be replaced by screams, the stench of blood, and the sting of gunpowder?

“Mom asked me to come drag you downstairs,you know how important today is”Isla burst into my  room in her blue dinner gown and her hair parked in a low sleek bun with side part,her face wearing a big frown as her eyes landed on me with my body still spread all over the bed.

“Oh common Sister,you were supposed to knock yeah?” I grunted loudly,my  body was beginning to ache from lying in bed all day,but I didn't want to get up from it yet,and with the look on my older sister’s face,there was no way i could avoid this one especially not on an important day like this, our parents marriage anniversary.

“Are you being dead serious right now?”Isla folded her hands in disbelief. She knew how much I hated gathering like this and that was why our mother had specifically asked her to drag me down.

Isla sighs,thinking of a way to make me  stand up from the bed.

“Guess who is coming to the celebration…?”she suddenly smirks,her brown eyes practically glowing under the dim light of my room,she strode in casually and sat at the edge of my bed.

I blinked, still  trying to organize my thoughts.

“Uncle Sal?”

She nodded eagerly, and before I could stop myself, a huge grin spread widely across my face.

“Uncle Sal is  really coming?” I asked again as if unsure of her response.

My heart did this ridiculous little flip. I hadn’t seen him in over a year now and the thought of seeing him again  just makes me even happier.

I laughed, suddenly breathless. “That old hag better bring cannoli.”

"If he hears you call him that”she laughed softly.

“Well I guess I have to start getting ready now"I stood up from my bed and headed for the bathroom.

“Finally”Isla murmured.

By the time I was done bathing,Isla had already laid out a white flared gown on my bed;soft, elegant, and totally not my kind of style.

That was Isla for you!,the perfect definition of etiquette,if grace had a face,it would definitely be hers. Everything about her screamed class,the way she walked, spoke and even the way she tilted her head like she was born at a royal tea party. I could swear she came out of a Disney world except this princess belonged to a Mafia kingdom.

Sometimes I’m actually relieved she’s the heiress and not me. I was never built for that crown or the expectations that came along with it.

She stood with a playful pout,her fingers  holding the dress up like it had somehow offended her.

“Your closet sucks girl,” she huffed. “There’s nothing girlie about it. I could barely pick this out.”

I stared at the dress like it might bring out  fangs and bite me. 

“It has ruffles,” I muttered with a fake horrific gasp.

Isla rolled her eyes. “That’s called femininity, darling. Try it sometime.”

I snorted. “I’ll wear it if you promise to avenge my death when I trip over all that fabric.”

She tossed a pillow hard at me with a playful laugh. “It’s a flared gown, not a medieval ballgown, drama queen.”

I held the dress up against my body and looked in the mirror

“I look like a wedding cake in tier three.” I gagged 

Isla sighed, she’s already getting fed up at this point.

“You are  hopeless Nyla, Do you even own anything that isn’t black, oversized, or capable of doubling as a disguise for a mafia runway?”

“Comfort is underrated,big sister,” I said defensively with a sympathetic shrug. “And beside black hides bloodstains.”

She gasped. “And fashion sense, apparently!”

“Oh please I thought this was going to be just a family gathering,why the so much effort…?” I asked, fighting to wear the gown like it was a foreign object.

She sighs in disbelief.

“Can't believe you are already twenty with this behavior.”

I pouted but didn't respond to her remark.

I stared at my reflection,and I was already looking like a princess.Isla helped style my hair in a messy bun and just a little lipgloss after she tried convincing me with so much effort.

As we walked down the stairs,the dining room was already buzzing with activities,soft melody from the violin players which were tucked in one corner of the large dining room,the air was filled with fresh scent of jasmine,truffled oil ,mixed with the ridiculously expensive lemon glazed salmon served only when father was trying to impress someone or rather intimidate them with five star hospitality.

A staff in white shirt nodded at us as we walked passed. Isla gave him a princess wave as always while I gave him a tight lip smile that probably screamed “ help”

The chandelier above us glimmered dramatically as if it was mocking me and I could swear even the marble floor judged every step I took from the squeaky sound of my heels.

Isla leaned in closer to me and whispered “Okay,you can now walk like you're not a fugitive”

I frown. “ I told you this was a bad idea and besides I'm not a….

“You walk like one.” she interrupted abruptly.

I rolled my eyes,with voices lowering and a few  heads turning towards the entrance. My eyes landed on him

Uncle Sal!.

There he was,in his signature navy suit and that ridiculous silver colored pocket watch he always pretended to check like it actually worked in real life. His beards were freshly trimmed,and his shoes shiny enough to see one’s reflection on it, and his cologne,they hit me even before he even made it halfway across the room;woodsy, expensive, with a hint of I own half of Ironvale.

“Uncle Sal!” I gasped, suddenly forgetting that I was  walking like my heels had cupcakes in them a few seconds ago.

He turned at the sound of my voice, and his entire face lit up almost immediately like I was his favorite niece and of course I was for the record.

With his hands spread wildly he grin 

 “There’s my girl!”