Unorthodox Obsession: A Mafia Story (EDITING)

Chapter 33

Unedited.

So I changed Amira's middle name because I don't want her having any ties to the name, what so ever.

I'm having a little competition, info at the end of the chapter so check that out and Enjoy.

Sorry for any mistakes in advance.

Amira's POV

Isabelle Theia Costa.

Isabelle.

Isabelle, not Amira.

Not the name that I've been going by since I knew my own name, or what I thought was my name.

Amira.

No, Isabelle.

My real name is Isabelle.

I'm supposed to be Isabelle. I wonder who she would have been. Would she like the same things that Amira likes, would she love books, the smell of the ocean, cold coffee, all kind of pastries... Xiden.

What if I was known as Isabelle, would I like those things. What if this isn't who I'm meant to be, what if I'm meant to be entirely different.

Isabelle.

I turn out all the contents in the box in front of me on the ground, after about a week of just staring at it, in one of the many unoccupied room that I locked myself in after I walked out of Xiden's office with the box.

Scattering them out to get a better glance at them, one thing catches my gaze. It was the photo album that I found in the attic back in Postiano.

How, how did it get in this box. Last I saw it it was on my dresser in my room in Postiano. How did this person get it, how did they get into my house.

My mind was racing until I saw a picture, it was a horrible sight. I felt my eyes widen as my breath hitch in my throat. No, no, no, no... Anything but that, please, anything but that.

It's the only thing that I knew was true and now it's gone.

It can't be gone.

I felt a choked sob escape my lips as I took the picture in my shaking hands as my eyes fill with tear.

It's gone.

It's gone.

It's gone.

The more the thought race through my mind the more the heavy feeling weighed on my heart and then the dam broke and the endless tears spill down my cheeks to my chin where they fall on the bed.

My eyes got foggy with tears as they continue to fall and I am unable to stop.

It is a picture of the only thing that was real regardless of my name, my mom wanted me to have it after she died, she was going to return here, to that building, to our family home.

To my home.

But now I have nowhere to go but it didn't matter because that is exactly what he wants. There is a note at the back of the picture, it read:
'I'm sorry my darling Isabelle but it has to be this way. I need you in Paris but don't be sad, everything will be over soon.'

With quivering lips I get up off the bed in my mid thigh royal blue summer dress, my hair falling down my back in waves, my feet bare. I walk over towards the door with a rapid beating heart, my palm sweaty. I've been in this room for a week now, I was hurt, angry and confused with all the sudden information that I stumbled upon and I do what I do best, I shut everyone out.