Hi

I've actually been a little productive.

I've been applying for jobs, I'm about to do my permit, about to go to the gym, and I'm writing.

Happy Sunday

Also, read up to chapter twelve on my Patreon.

patreon.com/KalistaBemah  or go to my bio and click the link 😘

❤️ enjoy

(also rewrite date: 6/26/23 at 1:36 am to fit Silver's story)

Silver

I woke up to an empty bed, realizing that I had slept into the next day and had several hundred miss-calls from the thing that birthed my child. It was twelve in the fucking morning, and I already hated the people in my day.

"If she's not dying, sick, or asking for me. Don't call me."

"Wait, Silver," her irritating voice shrieked.

I always wonder how I ever was able to manage having sex with this bitch.

"You have one minute," I said, not in the mood for her bullshit.

"Analia's at the hospital."

I didn't need to hear anymore. "Send me the address."

I hung up and got dressed, wrapping my robotic hand in new bandages. I hate it. It's a constant reminder that I blew up my arm to escape death.

After that, the thing announced that she was pregnant at the hospital while I was fuming over losing my fucking arm and being the one to destroy it.

The Irish mafia was getting bolder. Kidnapping me as soon as I take place as Don and trapping me in a position where losing my hand was better than losing my life–or my leg.

I put my hand on a landmine to blow the door and escape. They did that shit on purpose. They wanted me disabled. It was either my arm or my foot. I'd rather lose an arm and walk because if I couldn't walk due to my own doing, I would've done more than just kill the men involved.

I sighed and got into my black Audi. The thing says it's not a family car, but I really couldn't care less. It's perfect for two people.

My daughter and I.

What the fuck was her mother's name again? Never mind, such things are unnecessary to occupy the mind.

I didn't even have to look when I got to the hospital. The thing was sitting there crying up a storm.

"What happened?" I said. She immediately looked up at me and smiled calmly, standing up and walking up to me. "Do not hug me."

I cut her off in her steps. She sighed, flipping her ugly fake hair back, and smiled. "Analia had appendicitis, and I swear I didn't know. Her appendix burst, and now she's having an emergency surgery."

The sultry look she gave me while speaking about our daughter in surgery made me want to do an 'emergency surgery' on her while she was wide awake and screaming for mercy–I almost smiled at the thought. "You are her mother. You are supposed to know when your daughter can not function. Do I have to be a father and mother too?"

She scoffed. "You didn't even want her." She always loved to remind me of what I told her in the hospital when she found me. "Your exact words were, 'Get an abortion now. I want nothing to do with you and that thing in your stomach.'"

I don't deny I said those words. I was in the hospital for blowing my own arm. I didn't want to hear about my fuck ass one-night stand being pregnant with a fuck ass baby.

I glared at her. "You see how you used past tense." She rolled her eyes. "And correction, I didn't want anything to do with you. I was afraid of the bitchy qualities she might inherit from you."

Analia is a kind and gentle child. Easy to care for and beautiful, just like me. I wouldn't want her any other way, especially not like her bitch of a mother.

She brought to me the first overwhelming feeling of guilt for whatever I said during the pregnancy. She's the only human I ever thought was beautiful.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she sat down. "You know I'm busy. I didn't know."

I didn't even bother answering her.

"Also,"

I rolled my eyes. "Stop talking bitch." I said with my teeth clenched. I didn't care about whatever her name was, so therefore, I had no respect for her. I had no respect for anyone.

She sighed, obviously used to being degraded and looking like an idiot. "Analia is ten. I want another child."

I closed my eyes and thought of so many ways I could strangle a bitch with my bare hands. I opened my eyes back up and glared at her. "I don't know if it wasn't clear, but you were a forgotten one-night stand until I saw you again in the hospital."

"I know, but...I think Analia should have a full-blood sibling."

"I don't even know your name," I admitted. "And I don't care to know. You'll always just be Analia's mother and nothing else."

"I–"

"Family of Analia Moretto?" A slightly hoarse voice called out. A familiar voice.

When I stood up, I realized who it was. I'm surprised she's able to walk and talk. She couldn't do that last night. I held back a smirk, a sadistic feeling washed over me, hearing how much she struggled to talk.

She immediately recognized me. She seemed...distraught.

How old is this woman? She's a doctor, but she looks like a college student. My brain was everywhere, from this woman who left me on my bed by myself to how fucking sexy she looked in scrubs, and I wanted to fuck her in a hospital bed.

And I will do that. I'll just ask Othello to find this woman. I looked at her uniform.

Dr. Kasia Carty.

As she explained what was going on, I only heard that Analia was alive and safe. Then she dashed away, and I watched her ass shamelessly. I was going to find her and make her mine.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

"Hi, Daddy!" Analia squealed quietly, throwing her hands out for me to hug.

"La mia bambina." (my baby girl). I hugged her and kissed her temple as she giggled.

"The nurse said I couldn't have donuts." She frowned.

"You don't need donuts, sweetie." The thing said. "You need to be thin and sweet; donuts make you fat."

Analia frowned. "Ok, mommy."

I gave the bitch a side-eye. "Analia, when you feel better. I'll get you your own 12-box donuts to eat by yourself."

Analia smiled. "Really?!"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Silver!" The thing said. "Do you want our child to have diabetes?!"

The only thing stopping me from killing this woman is our daughter. The annoyance coursing through me was making me crazy....I wanted to murder her. "Look–you–fuck, what's your damn name?"

She rolled her eyes. "Natalia."

"Yea. Stop talking." I said simply, contrary to what I was feeling.

She fumed. "You will not disrespect me in front of my daughter–"

I sighed, interrupting her by lighting a cigarette. "My daughter, and you're not going to give my daughter an eating disorder with your stupid rules."

She fumed and stomped her foot. "You didn't even want her! Now she's here. You want to act fake!"

"Do you ever shut up bitch?" I said with a twinge of annoyance, trying not to argue in a hospital. "Shut the fuck up and sit there. She had appendicitis, and you let it get this far. Do you even take her to doctors 'appointments?"

"Why can't you do that? Why am I doing everything?"

Here she go again. Her bullshit at 12 fucking a.m.

I exhaled in anger, trying to focus on my cigarette. "You do not do everything. You agreed to take her to doctor's appointments and me to dental appointments. Don't piss me off. I am already not liking my day."

Natalia scoffed. "It's always about you!"

I felt my eye twitch. "You–"

"Mr. and Mrs. Moretto, please!" A nurse caught our attention. She was on the bed, hugging a crying Analia. "A–and you can't smoke here, Mr. Moretto."

Fuck.

My fists clenched. Now my daughter's crying because her parents are fighting about her, and I wanted to smash Natalia's skull into the wall; instead, I opted to leave.

I knew I shouldn't have left, but I'll beg for my daughter's forgiveness later.

I was on my way to Othello.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

I broke into his house and grabbed some food from his fridge. He wouldn't mind anyway. If he did, who the fuck cares?

About thirty minutes later, I heard him and his roommate talking. Again, a familiar voice.

"Kyle, I will wring your neck for putting me in this situation." The hoarse voice complained, laced with embarrassment.

"What? You literally got fucked by a god, and your complaining?"

"He's married! He has a daughter, which I operated on today, and I had to meet him. I almost died."

"Well–oop." Othello paused, staring at me. His roommate, surprisingly, was the woman I was about to ask for. "Hey, bitch!" Othello squealed.

"Do not hug me." I stopped him in his tracks.

"Oh! Let me introduce y'all." Othello ran back to a very distraught and shocked woman. "This is my day one, my stink. Kasia Carty. Kasia, this is my older brother, Silver. It's not his real name though. His real name's too innocent for him."

I grimaced at the mention of my name...my real name. Othello knows better than to mention my fucking name.

Kasia looked at Othello. "Oh my god," her voice wavered as she covered her face.

I was amused; she looked...cute–Jesus, fuck.

Othello gasped. "What happened this time?" he said as I raised an eyebrow.

She groaned in frustration. "Think Kyle! What did I tell you about...you know?"

He looked between us and gasped. "Robotic arm! Oh my god, you fucked my brother!" Othello looked at me and then at her. "You made me call my brother a sex god?!"

I rolled my eyes, silently watching the two.

"Silver, you dirty bitch."

I raised my brow. "Was I supposed to know she was your roommate?" I said, gazing at the woman who wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Why are you here, brother?" Othello asked.

"I came here to ask you to find Kasia, but it looks like I found her."

She looked up at me with those pretty brown eyes. "W–why?"

"Because I want you."

Her eyes widened, and she stood frozen in shock as Othello shook his head. "Oh my god, not my brother." Othello dramatically gagged.

I ignored my brother and looked dead at the beautiful woman with beautiful hazel eyes and perfect...tits–I didn't give a fuck–I wanted to bury my face in them. Her tits were big enough to fill my hands.

My dick hardened as I thought of the night when I fucked her and when her tits jumped in my face while I made her ride me. When I slept on top of her warm tits.

"Wait," Kasia furrowed her brows, interrupting my thoughts. "Othello? That's your real name?"

Othello blushed as Kasia forgot about me and started laughing. "What the fuck is Othello. Ah! I see why you chose Kyle. Better than fucking Othello."

Her laughter brought music to my ears. Her beautiful smile. Why am I feeling so fucking weird? Why do I want her so bad?

I don't know, and I don't like it. I don't want anyone, and I don't find anyone beautiful other than my daughter–so why was I thinking like this...so pathetically?

My jaw clenched in anger.

Kasia made me like this, feeling like this–this suffocating feeling–and she's going to be responsible for this. For this feeling, she's making me feel.

And she has no fucking choice. 

Anywaysss

I can't wait for yall to read the more exciting parts if you're not on my Patreon 🤭

See you next Sunday!

Also....

patreon.com/KalistaBemah

....sorry, I gotta promote.

edited