Giorno sat at his desk staring blankly at the contract lying on his desk. He was supposed to be reading over the bid from a construction company to build a new community center that would act as a place for abused children to find safety and help. All he could think about was the unanswered questions generated by the woman he had talked to for only a brief moment yesterday.

"Hey, have you decided which company to go with?" Guido inquired from the open door.

"Huh?" Giorno muttered, blinking until the words came into focus.

"What's going on with you?" his concerned friend asked while entering the room. "And don't say nothing."

Giorno groaned in frustration, scrubbing his hands over his face. Standing up, he went over to the bar in his office to pour himself a glass of water. Perhaps a break would help him concentrate. He had been reading over bids all morning after all.

"It's just a big decision you know?" Giorno said, dropping a single large round ice cube in the rocks glass bringing the water level to the rim.

"What else is on your mind?" Guido crossed his arms over his chest. He had rolled the sleeves of his black button down shirt up to his elbows. His red tie was flung over his shoulder.

"Cooking lunch?" the boss asked when he noticed. "Or eating it?"

"Cooking. Spaghetti Bolognese. I hope you're hungry." He raised a questioning eyebrow. "How far have you gotten on the bids?"

"I'm going over the last one now. I'll try to make a decision by this afternoon."

"It is this afternoon. It's after one as a matter of fact."

Giorno drained the glass of the cold water. "Is there anything else on your mind?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Guido rejoined, straightening his tie while taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his boss's desk. "Would this have anything to do with that artist from the gallery? Or the pretty woman you met with yesterday?"

"You followed me," Giorno sighed, taking a seat back at his desk.

"Of course I did. Who is she?"

"Someone from my distant past."

"Could you be a little more vague?" Guido retorted, rolling his eyes.

"I honestly don't know exactly who she is yet, or what she is supposed to mean to me."

Guido visibly flinched, but Giorno did not address the odd reaction.

"I remember..." His words trailed away as he recalled the fractured memory that had come to him on his way to the art gallery. "She ran away before she told me much. What little I did find out about her is really difficult to believe."

"Like what?"

Before Giorno could tell his friend the woman is a vampire, the butler appeared in the open door way.

"Sir, there is a delivery for you," announced the man dressed in the typical uniform for his job.

"What kind of delivery?" Guido asked, standing to his feet. He rested his hand on the grip of his pistol as the butler waved to someone.

A man dressed in a white t-shirt, denim overalls, and brown work boots brought in a twenty four inch by thirty six inch rectangle covered in brown paper. Guido's fingers flexed around the grip when the man passed by him. Without saying a word, the delivery man propped what Giorno assumed to be painting against the wall beside the desk. The man nodded an acknowledgement at Giorno then left.

"Did you buy another ugly painting?" Guido asked.

"No," Giorno replied, walking to the package.

He pulled off the little white rectangle of paper attached to the upper right corner first. He opened the single folded note to see neat cursive script written in small letters slanted to the right.

Please accept my gift. I will be coming by tonight to speak with you. I am sure you will have even more questions. ~ Liora

Guido snatched the note from his friend's fingers when the healthy tan on his face paled to a ghostly white color.

"Liora? That's a beautiful name but who the hell is this woman?" he demanded.

"I'm not sure," Giorno mumbled, ripping off the brown paper to reveal the unframed canvas.

It was another dark painting showing only parts of a man emerging from the shadows with his back to the observer. The left side of his face could be seen in profile since his body was turned slightly to the left. There was a gold hoop earring in his earlobe and three moles in a line above that. He recognized those moles. An uneven red line, a scar he had seen before, bisected the man's thick neck. A large purple star birthmark was displayed prominently on the knotty muscle of his neck that rounded into his brawny shoulder. Part of his upper arm was visible but darkness engulfed the rest down to his fingers with black talon like fingernails.

Giorno swallowed convulsively in an attempt to withhold the bile that rose in his throat. This painting was too similar to the photograph of his father to be a coincidence. He still kept that picture in his wallet to this day. It was yellowed with age and tattered on the edges from being pulled out so many times over the years.

"Isn't this - "

"Yeah," Giorno cut off Guido's question. He had showed his friend the photo only once soon after he learned he could trust him implicitly.

"The bastard in this picture is your father," his mother had informed him when handing him the photo a few days before his fifteenth birthday. He assumed that was to be his present for that year, and he was right.

"Who the hell is this woman?" Guido muttered, crumpling the piece of paper in his hand.

"I don't know. But I hope to find out tonight."

~\'/~


Giorno was sitting on the gray stone patio at the back of his manor sipping wine. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the cast iron table beside him. One glass had not been filled because his guest had not yet arrived.

Waiting for Liora for hours had been like sitting on a bed of needles. He had been antsy for hours anticipating her arrival not knowing the exact time she would show up. Typically calm and unbothered by anything, he had been beside himself since receiving that painting. He wanted to know how she knew what his father looked like.

As he gazed out over the back lawn illuminated only by the light of the full moon, he thought he saw the tall bushes trimmed into giant spirals shiver. He sat up straight, leaning forward while waiting and holding his breath in anticipation. But nothing happened. Not even a cat came slinking out of the bushes.

"She's not coming is she?" Guido asked, joining him on the open platform overlooking the backyard.

"She said she would be here. I just have to be patient," Giorno said, but his patience was wearing thin.

Guido glanced at his watch.

"It's almost midnight."

The breeze began to softly blow. Giorno believed that was what had disturbed the bushes when they began to move again. Something white emerged from the greenery and moved forward, waving in the air like specter. Then he realized it was her, appearing as if the darkness had given birth to her a second time. The long white scarf around her neck billowed out behind her like a pair of wings in the night wind.

"Am I really seeing this?" Guido asked as she approached them.

"Yes. That's her."

The white material of the flowing gown similar to a Grecian toga covered her body all the way down to her feet giving the illusion she floated a few inches above the ground as she moved with gliding steps. Her long hair had been wrapped and secured in a milkmaid braid around her head to prevent it from blowing around her face.

Despite the late hour, both men were still fully dressed in their fine Italian suits befitting the most stylish gangsters. Giorno wore an all black one, including the jacket, with a green silk tie. Guido wore pants and a vest, black with thin silvery white pin stripes, over a black shirt and a tie with a red and blue diagonal pattern on it.

"My, don't you two look handsome," Liora complimented them as she gathered the fabric of her long dress to lift the hem in order to gingerly walk up the steps from the lawn to the patio.

"It took you damn long enough to get here. Giorno's been waiting for hours. Where the hell have you been?" Guido demanded, coming to stand between his boss and the woman who dared to act so familiar when neither of them knew who the hell she is. "Who the hell do you think you are, lady?"

"My name is Liora," she introduced herself politely, extending her hand to him. "And you're Guido Mista, right?"

"How the fuck do you know that?" His eyes flickered down to her offered hand, but he made no move to shake it. Instead he planted his feet firmly a hip width apart, folding his arms over his chest as if forming an immovable human wall. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Well, that's what I'm here to explain," she said, attempting to peek around him to see Giorno.

Guido quickly leaned to the right, blocking her view. He did not return the smile she gave him despite everything inside of him wanting to do so because she was so damn beautiful.

"Guido, it's okay. Let her come sit down," Giorno said, pouring her a glass of wine. His next question was directed at Liora. "Do you drink?"

"I do," she confirmed, sidestepping Guido to join the man she actually came to see.

She sat down in the other chair and picked up the glass. She paused before taking a drink when her eyes met those of the man glaring at her with irises so dark it was impossible to distinguish them from the pupils.

"Are you going to join us?" she asked him.

Guido assumed she was being a snarky bitch considering there was only two chairs and two glasses. His eyes shifted over to Giorno asking him the silent question if he wanted him to stay. His friend shook his head. This was probably an extremely personal conversation Giorno would rather have alone despite the fact he would discuss whatever was said with him later anyway.

Respecting his boss and friend's silently expressed wishes for him to leave, he nodded in return. After casting a withering glance toward the woman he viewed as an interloper and possible enemy, he walked away.

"I won't be far," Guido said at the door as a reminder to his friend and a warning to the woman before going inside.

"So," Giorno began when the door closed behind his protector, "how did you know his name?"

"I have made it a point to know everything about you, Giorno, including those who stay close by your side," she replied as a cryptic and quite creepy explanation.

"Since I know absolutely nothing about you, would you care to begin filling me in?"

He was finding it difficult to keep his temper in check with her continued ambiguity. It was disconcerting that she knew everything about him, and he had just learned her name. If she was telling him the truth about that. Her name might not be a lie, but there was definitely more to her story.

"Where should I begin?"

"Let's start with the painting you sent today. Who is that man?"

Liora inhaled a shaky breath and took a sip of the wine. Rather than looking at him despite his eyes being latched onto her, she gazed out across the yard.

"The man in the painting is Dio Brando." Her head turned toward to him, her eyes glowing softly like embers in a long burning fire.

"But Dio is your father. How can he be my father too?" Giorno asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He audibly gulped. "You're my sister?"

"Kind of. It's complicated," she answered, finishing off the wine in her glass. This is one of the many times she hated that her vampiric metabolism would not allow her to feel the effects of the alcohol.

"Obviously. Try to explain," he requested. "You said yourself I am very intelligent. I am sure I can figure it out."

The bottle clinked against the rim of her glass as her hand shook while trying to refill it.

"Well, did you notice the scar on his neck?" she inquired, her eyes brightening to the softly glowing amber of a traffic light as if warning him to proceed with caution.

Giorno nodded. He wanted to know about his father. He needed to understand his familial connection to her. His eyes followed her as she stood and walked to the edge of the patio with the glass of wine in her hand. He halfway expected her to run away, possibly vanishing in a puff of smoke. Or perhaps she would transform into a bat and fly away.

He scoffed at the preposterous image of her sprouting black leathery wings, and her body shrinking into that of a small furry mammal before taking flight into the night. He needed more wine himself. His overactive imagination was getting the best of him.

"Have you ever heard of Jonathan Joestar?" she asked without turning around to look at him.

"No," he replied since she would not be able to hear his head rattle if he shook it in response.

Liora proceeded to tell him a story of Dio Brando, an abused young man adopted by the kind rich man who was saved by his worthless father, Dario Brando, after his demise. Bitter and full of hate, Dio bore a grudge against his adoptive father and brother - a grudge so strong it would not die even after he murdered them both. As if killing the man who accepted him as a brother was not enough of an insult, Dio further defiled the man's body by stealing it to replace his own which had been irreparably damaged during the battle between them that resulted in Jonathan's death.

Giorno did not ask how Dio came to be a vampire to begin with. That would be a topic of conversation for another time. Presently he was more interested in learning about his father which was a puzzle to be untangled.

"So which man is my father exactly? I'm confused."

"Technically you're Jonathan Joestar's son. Since it was his body Dio used, it was Jonathan's sperm that impregnated that awful woman," she explained with a sneer of disgust.

Although he could not agree more with her mildly derogatory assessment of his mother, he was already well acquainted with her awfulness. He chewed his lower lip, willing himself to be patient until she continued which she did after a steadying breath.

"You have the star birthmark on your shoulder to prove it," she went on, still pacing the patio. "So I guess when it comes right down to it, we're not actually related at all. But I have always thought of you as my baby brother. I was actually disappointed when you started to look more like Dio. You were so pretty with your black hair and blue eyes. They were like Jonathan's."

But don't I look a little more like you too with the blond hair?, he wanted to ask but decided not to. He already had the clear impression she did not care too much for her father.

"I'm going to get another bottle of wine," Giorno announced, standing up from his chair. He caught her wrist on her next pass in front of him. When her eyes connected with his, he asked, "You're not going to run away while I'm gone are you?"

"No. I'll be here," she promised, her lower lip quivering when she smiled. "There's so much more we need to talk about."

"Yes, there is," he agreed heartily, releasing her wrist to resume her nervous walking to and fro.

Guido waited for him on the other side of the door where he had been watching, and listening. He backed away to allow Giorno to enter but did not speak until the door was closed behind him.

"Do you really believe any of that crazy shit? And what the hell is the deal with her eyes? Is she a vampire?" he hissed, not wanting to believe a word she had said.

"As ridiculous as it sounds, I do believe her. Yes, she is a vampire. Well, part vampire according to her. I guess I'm not one because Dio isn't actually my father on a genetic level. Fuck," he muttered, sinking down into a nearby chair.

"I'll go get that bottle of wine. Or would you like something stronger?" Guido asked.

"Just the wine, please," Giorno requested.

Liora tapped on the glass window in the door door before entering. She saw Guido exiting the room that appeared to be a reading room as she walked in. Floor to ceiling shelves filled with books lined the walls on opposite sides of the room. The furnishings consisted of two white overstuffed extra large chairs resembling marshmallows, one of which Giorno occupied. A comfortable looking couch covered in gray suede and a dark wood coffee table was placed in front of the chairs.

"It's a lot to process. Do you want to know more?" she asked, sitting down on the couch across from him.

"Why did you come to find me when I was a child?" he swiftly inquired. That was one of the first questions that had come to him that night at the art gallery.

"Actually, I wasn't looking for you. We had no idea you existed. Your mother had run away before anyone knew she was pregnant. Dio sent me to find her...and kill her," she added reluctantly, her eyes studying his face which tensed with her confession.

Giorno stared at his hands which clenched into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. The muscles in jaw squirmed under the skin near his ear from his teeth grinding. So she was sent on an assassination mission but found her little brother instead which caused her to abort the whole thing.

"Then why didn't you?" he asked, his furious eyes glaring at her.

"What?"

"Why didn't you kill her and take me with you? Why didn't you take me to my father?" he demanded.

"I would have but..." She paused, shifting uncomfortably under his piercing gaze.

"You didn't save me from that terrible woman," he accused, standing up from the chair. "How could you just leave me there?"

"Because I didn't know what the hell to do," she defended herself adamantly but remained soft spoken. She stood up from the chair to be face to face with him. "I didn't expect to find a sweet little baby scared and all alone. When I came back the next night to take you...you were gone. She had taken you and ran away again. To Italy this time. By the time I found you, you already had someone else to take care of you."

"Oh." He knew she referred to the capo he had saved when he was still a mere child. The man he protected on an inexplicable whim changed his life in ways he never imagined possible. First and foremost, the abuse from his parents finally stopped. Then he suddenly became one of the popular kids at school.

"Dio was dead anyway. I knew it was better I left you alone and let your life continue on that course, don't you think?"

If she had taken him away from his mother in Japan, he never would have come to Italy. He would have never met that half dead mafioso in the alley and protected him from the men who wanted to finish the job. Despite the neglect and daily beatings, not to mention the emotional battering he received, if all of that had not happened, he would not be in his present position as the head of his own organization now.

"I do," he agreed, the bitter rage subsiding.

Liora pressed her hand against his square jaw. Her hand was warm against his skin prompting him to press his cheek into her palm. She smiled at him, but it did not diminish the sadness or remorse in her teary eyes.

"I can't apologize for my decision to leave you that night, but I am terribly sorry for all of the bad things you had to suffer through. I know it doesn't make a damn bit of difference, but I never stopped watching over you. I was always there. Just in case you needed me," she said, genuine happiness filtering into her eyes when he placed his hand over hers and looked at her face.

"Like a guardian angel," he said.

Liora chuckled, leaning forward to press her forehead against his. "Something like that."

"Ahem," Guido dramatically cleared his throat to get their attention. "Am I interrupting something?"

He was not sure exactly what kind of moment he had walked into but neither one of them had moved or jumped apart as if guilty of some trespass. What they might be guilty of he was not exactly sure. The one thing he was sure of is that he did not trust this stranger who seemed to be getting more strange by the minute.

"Of course not," Giorno said, backing up from her. He pulled her hand away from his face but held onto her fingers loosely as he lowered their hands together.

Guido set the uncorked bottle of red wine and two new glasses down on the table. He had also brought a bottle of bourbon along with three glasses just in cases they wanted to join him in imbibing his choice of drink.

"Liora was it?" Guido asked, pouring wine into the glasses.

"Yes," she replied, picking up the full wine glass to take a drink.

"Are you going to be staying a while?"

Her eyes shifted over to Giorno.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked him.

"Yes. I think you should." He cast a sidelong glimpse at Guido. "I believe we should all get to know each other better."