Fratelli: The Awakening (The Vampire Cartel #1)

33. Deep Thoughts

Chapter 33

Deep Thoughts

H enderson, Nevada

April 14, 2018

(8 Days Before Death)

Dolly slept peacefully on the expansive, U-shaped white sofa. They had spent the evening watching old ‘90s Black American sitcoms, her favorite being Half-and-Half, a show about two half-sisters learning to live together and accept their differences. Lucio noticed the parallel to Dolly’s life. Perhaps she connected so deeply with the show because, like the half-sisters, the two halves of her personality would eventually have to face each other and unite—or would they? Lucio considered his own experience. He had three brothers, all born from the same womb, yet none of them wanted to be in close proximity to one another.

As they watched episode after episode, sharing chips and guacamole, Dolly gradually warmed to the wine she had initially claimed to dislike. Eventually, she snuggled closer to him, resting her head comfortably on his lap. Lucio gently stroked her hair, lost in thought as the evening wore on. He wasn’t sure when she had drifted off to sleep.

He had dedicated the evening to her comfort, fulfilling her every want and need. Yet, as he sat there, a war raged within him. He considered the possibility that the curse affecting his ability to have children might extend to him as well. Could this woman be his daughter? The thought repulsed him. Tristan had confirmed that her adoption listed a birth mother named Christina Brown, a descendant of Julia Brown whom they had never tracked. There was no mention of Wanda. Dolly was born three years after he had parted ways with Wanda. It wasn’t possible. There was no way he would have fallen in love with his own child and no way Wanda would have denied him his child. He had forced Wanda from his life, revealing the horrors of his true nature and scaring her to the point of no return. Yet, deep down, he knew that the Draca—what had befallen him and his brothers at thirty—meant she was not his child. His renewed mortality, brought about by Dolly’s blood, contrasted sharply with his vampiric nature, hinting at a deeper, more perplexing truth.

How had Dolly ended up in an orphanage, and why had she been left adrift after her adoptive parents died? Where were her people, her father? Lucio’s thoughts circled these questions, struggling to piece together the narrative of her life. Wanda had vowed to escape the darkness he had brought into her life, but what had she run into instead? Had she stumbled into something even worse? Could one of his brothers be responsible? No. If any of his brothers had suspected a child with Dolly’s powers had been born, the hunt would have ended.

Lucio squeezed his eyes shut. He had deliberately banished any desire to find Wanda, even feigning her sacrifice to throw others off her trail, guarding her essence with secrecy for decades.

And now, here he was, beside her daughter, feeling emotions more profound than he had ever experienced. The irony wasn’t lost on him—his attempts to protect Wanda had led him into a complex relationship that neither he nor Wanda could control. Now he was caught in this mystery, a tangled web of love, regret, and responsibility. His Draca, a dark force within him, choked on the dance with mortality that was pulling him back into the abyss.

As the sun dipped low, Lucio lounged in the entertainment area—not the secluded theater room, but a space graced with windows that welcomed the fading light. He could feel the city cool as the desert sky painted the pool area in a palette of orange and purple hues. His thoughts drifted to his brothers, who were due to convene soon.

Sebastiano, much like their father, shunned the sun, living his life cloaked in the safety of darkness. He was a purest when it came to the tenants of their curse. He welcomed being a creature of the night. Lucio could only remember a couple of occasions when Sebastiano ventured out before dusk, always surrounded by his massive dogs and other peculiar pets. Marcello, in stark contrast, detested the night and the cursed existence the darkness brought. He was the one who challenged the limits of Julia Brown’s curse, educating his brothers on the advantages of co-existing alongside mortals—drinking the blood of those with the deepest currents of melanin.

Then there was Domenico, a different story altogether. Their relationship was the most complex and painful aspect of Lucio’s life. Although Lucio loved his twin deeply, there was an undercurrent of loathing because of the inextricable bond that linked them—a bond fraught with sabotage and betrayal.

“Hey? Sorry. I fell asleep,” Dolly said. She sat up and held her head.

“It’s okay,” Lucio reassured her.

“What time is it? Don’t you have a meeting or something?”

Lucio was reminded of his commitment to his brothers and the impending meeting. He knew he needed to join them soon, but first, he had to ensure Dolly’s safety.

“Dinner is prepared for you,” he said, keeping his tone light.

“Oh?” Dolly perked up. She glanced around. She adjusted her dress, which had risen to her hip, inadvertently revealing her legs.

“I promise to be back before you wake. You can stay in our room and watch television. Or stay here and wait for me,” he offered.

“Okay,” she shrugged. But then she noticed two men in dark suits, wearing sunglasses, entering the room. They positioned themselves a few feet apart at the door.

“They will be with you. If you want them out of the room, just dismiss them. But know they will be near. Always. And there are more men on the grounds. You’re safe,” Lucio explained.

“You keep saying that” she smiled warmly. “I know I’m safe.”

Lucio leaned over, gently cupping the back of her head, and tilted her face up for a kiss. After a brief, tender moment, he kissed her brow.

“I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to feel protected,” he said.

“From who, Lucio?” Dolly asked.

“From everything,” he replied. He stepped back as she looked up into his eyes. For the first time, she noticed a deep sadness etched across his face—a stark contrast to the strength and composure he usually exuded. This vulnerability in him sparked a mixture of empathy and worry in her.

“Who’s going to protect you? From everything spooky in the night?” Dolly asked.

He chuckled at her choice of words. “I’m going to go shower and change. Then I’ll get ready for my meeting. My room is…”

“I know where it is,” she said, standing up. “Can I come?”

He extended his hand, and Dolly took it. Together, they walked through the house toward his bedroom as the golden hour bathed everything in warm light. The room was simple: a massive bed, a chair, and a desk, nothing more. Unlike the gothic, lived-in feel of his New Orleans home, his Vegas bedroom felt empty and barren, reflecting a different side of him. He dropped her hand and headed toward the bathroom. As he walked away, Dolly observed him closely. He seemed so alone—not just because he was leaving her side, but in a deeper, more meaningful way that she struggled to understand.

Stop worrying about him. He’s mine! The voice was sharp, so real that she spun around, half-expecting someone to be standing behind her. But the room was empty. Dolly looked back toward the bathroom and saw no sign of Lucio. She was certain she had heard the voice. But how? There was no one there. Was her mind playing tricks on her, like it had in the bathroom on the plane? Was it?