The Bodyguard's
The Twisted Destiny

Miabella walked downstairs while bowing her head. He re-entered the elevator and pushed the button to the basement floor. After the elevator door opened, he stepped foot into the place where he parked the jeep relics of the father. Miabella sat dumbstruck for a while behind the wheel, recalling the man she had kicked earlier.

The girl had never met the plontos-headed man, whom she met in the Grigori room. A few days ago, when he first came to the office of the Russian man, who welcomed him and Carlo was a different person. Miabella continued to convince herself. So focused on the doorkeeper of the room, Miabella even ignored what happened, on the other side of the basement parking area where she is now located.

Meanwhile, Carlo was already sitting dashingly on his bike. He had also been wearing all the driving gear, the man with many tattoos on his body immediately put on a motorbike and left the parking area.

Simultaneously, Miabella, who had thought for a while, decided to go back to Grigori's office once again, in order to be more confident. He would not calm down before meeting the middle-aged man.

Miabella finally got out of the jeep and rushed to the elevator. Although the girl did not know the figure of Grigori Kostya, but she forced herself to meet him. Miabella hoped that this time she would meet the man.

While in the elevator, Miabella kept thinking about and trying to string together the words she was about to say. Not long after, the elevator doors opened. He rushed to the room he had just been to. The difference, this time in front of the room was no longer seen the figure of the guard who had felt his kick.

The gray-eyed girl was stunned for a moment. He grabbed the tip of his long hair pigtail, then moved it forward to hang it over the right shoulder. Miabella sighed deeply, before raising her hand and intending to knock.

However, his hand had not touched the door leaf, the cover of the room had opened first. There was a man who yesterday welcomed her and Carlo there. The man frowned, then nodded politely. “There can I help you with, Miss?” tanyakanya.

“So I've been here. Uhm, but I didn't find anyone,” Miabella replied slightly misbehaved. “I want to meet Mr. Kostya,” he continued with a mimic that looks a bit doubtful.

“Who, Feliks?” Grigori's voice sounded from inside the room.

“I,” replied Miabella as she again barged in. He stood a few steps away from the table where the Russian was.

Seeing the whereabouts of Miabella in her room, Grigori immediately stood up. He then hinted to an assistant named Felix earlier to get out. The assistant nodded, then passed from there. Don't forget he shut the door tight.

“Nona ...”

“de Luca's. Miabella Conchetta de Luca,” replied the girl with her clothes that had not been changed, ever since she returned from the estate.

“Nona de Luca's. Are you the daughter of master Marco de Luca?” ask Grigori who does not know the figure of Miabella.

“Marco is my uncle. While I am the daughter of Matteo de Luca, the typical weapons assembler of the Klan de Luca,” Miabella explained proudly. His anger towards Adriano, makes him turn on the figure of the father who is not too familiar.

Hearing the name of Matteo de Luca, Grigori instantly fell silent. He had indeed heard the big name of the former Klan de Luca leader with all his greatness. “Matteo Roberto de Luca's son,” he said slowly. “Excellent,” decak the man. Grigori then fell silent for a moment. “Then, what do I help you with?” ask the man full of authority.

Before answering a question from Grigori, Miabella had circulated her gaze. The beautiful girl's eyes swept every corner of the room without being missed. In the end, the gray eyes were locked onto an aged figure that seemed almost the same as Adriano. “Did Carlo come here?” miabella asked a few moments later.

“Carlo?” repeated Grigori. “You mean Mr Karl Mikhailov?” tanyanya.

“Ya,” Miabella replied slowly and flatly.

“Master Karl is here. However, he had already left here a moment ago. Didn't you meet him in the parking lot?” Grigori frowned in astonishment.

Long and impatient while waiting for the elevator to open, Miabella decided to choose to go down by using the stairs. I don't know how many steps he went through, until he arrived downstairs with a tired body. Fortunately, the building consists of only three floors.

Upon arrival in the basement, Miabella set her sights on the surroundings of the place. Tired and desperate too. His body went to the vehicle. The girl then walked in, then sat behind the wheel. However, Miabella did not immediately start the car engine. Mia's eldest daughter folds both hands on the steering wheel. He also put his face there. “Carlo,” sobs the owner of those gray eyes slowly. As strong as she is, Miabella is still an ordinary girl who feels fragile because of love.

While Carlo parked his bike in the halfway house. After removing the helmet, he rushed down the long corridor. The goal of the handsome man with the black glasses that he had not taken off earlier was the room occupied by Miranda.

Arriving at the door of the room he was heading to, Carlo knocked on him. As usual, after that he would go straight in after three beats. However, Carlo did not know that Miranda was receiving guests in her room. “Ah, I can come back later. Sorry,” said the handsome man He had taken off the sunglasses he was wearing.

“Carlo,” call Miranda slowly. The pain that the woman experienced made her lose most of her body weight. Miranda looked very weak. “Come, Son,” take the woman again.

“Let's go, Miranda. I don't want to bother you and your guests,” politely decline Carlo.

“What a stroke, son. Come in,” tell Miranda. In the end, Carlo complied. He stepped dashingly near the bed, where Miranda was lying. Carlo was standing not far from Miranda's guests. She is a woman with a younger age than the babysitter.

At first glance, Carlo had a glance at the woman with a long dress that covered the legs. The woman also coats her long, black, tied hair, using a patterned scraf. He was bowed with both hands stacked on his lap.

“How are you, Miranda?” carlo asked attentively.

“Stop, Carlo. It feels like all the drugs that I have consumed do not give any effect,” replied Miranda lethargicly.

“Do not do that. You should keep trying to be healthy. The children here need a mother figure like you,”, said Carlo refuting Miranda's words that sounded desperate.

“I feel very satisfied to see the change here. Things got much better, after Mr Adriano D’Angelo took ownership of this halfway house from Mr Alessandro Moriarty. Mr. Alessandro was not unkind and responsible. However, with health conditions that are not possible, it makes it overwhelmed to do a lot of work,” Miranda explained.

“They must be both amazing men,” Carlo said in response to remarks from Miranda. He was trying to shake off all the berserk things in his chest, for Adriano's expulsion.

“Yes, you're right. Mr. Adriano inherited the favor of lord Alessandro Moriarty. Isn't that right, Mrs Fabiola?” Miranda turned her attention to the woman with the scraf who had just been silent and bowed.

However, after her name was mentioned by Miranda, the woman raised her face. The gaze of his pair of gray eyes was fixed directly on the handsome man, who was also looking on with sadness and full of disbelief. Not long after, a drop of clear granules fell on the corner of Fabiola's pale and quivering lips. The woman seemed to be saying something, but she felt so hard.

“Mrs Fabiola Miraldi or Fabiola Volkov?” With a trembling voice, Carlo mentioned the name. Never thought that he would be reunited with the figure he had discussed with Grigori Kostya.

“Whatever it is, I am the biological mother who has left you here, My son,” said the woman who turned out to be Fabiola, Carlo's real mother.

Carlo immediately moved from his seat. He then approached Fabiola, who was still looking at him. The man then rested in front of the woman, holding both hands that had been stored on his lap. Without hesitation, Carlo kissed his mother's hands, then buried his face in the lap of the woman he had not known where she was. “Mother ...”

For the first time in his life since living in a halfway house, Carlo was able to feel the soft and comfortable hand-cuffs of a woman who had given birth to him. “Yes, Son. I'm your mother,” Fabiola said. “Have you also met with Grigori Kostya and listened to the whole story from him?” ask Fabiola again. Carlo nodded slowly without raising his face. “Then I don't have to tell you any more about those bad memories.”