My Guardian Married My Sister But I’m His Alpha Chapter 03
“Get in the car, Chiara.”
Griffin’s voice was low, insistent. “I’ve already arranged your father’s memorial. Tomorrow morning, St. Michael’s Chapel.”
Chiara hesitated for only a moment before getting in.
Not because she wanted to be with him, but because a formal memorial involved the church, the Pack elders, and invited guests. It wasn’t something she could organize on her own at the last minute.
The ride was silent.
He didn’t turn on the radio or try to fill the quiet with small talk.
At red lights, he would glance over at her, his gaze intense, before quickly looking away.
Chiara kept her eyes fixed on the city passing by outside the window.
Three years had reshaped the New York skyline. New glass towers pierced the clouds, and entire neighborhoods had been transformed.
“I didn’t touch your room,” Griffin said suddenly.
It took her a second to understand what he meant.
He was talking about her childhood room at the Westchester Pack estate. The house that was now, legally, his and Francesca’s home.
“It’s cleaned every week. The monstera you had is still alive. We’ve repotted it twice.”
He paused. “Grandpa wants to see you. After the memorial, if you don’t want to go back to the Pack House, I can handle him.”
“Don’t bother,” Chiara cut in. “I can handle myself.”
After a beat, she added, “And I’m staying at a hotel.”
He didn’t respond.
By the time they reached the gates of St. Michael’s Cemetery, dusk was settling over the city.
“I’ll wait here,” he said as she got out.
“Don’t. I can get back on my own.”
“Chiara Moretti.”
She turned.
The car window slid down. Griffin looked at her, and for a split second, a flicker of wolf-gold ignited in his eyes.
But he reined it in, holding out the bouquet of white lilies again.
“Go see your father,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll wait. I’ll leave when you come out.”
Chiara took the flowers and walked into the cemetery.
The wind was cold.
Guardians patrolled the perimeter, but inside, the grounds were still. Lampposts cast a soft glow over the rows of headstones.
Her father’s grave overlooked the water. Griffin had chosen the spot. *It’s quiet there,* he’d said. *Your father would like it.*
But as she drew closer, she saw someone was already there.
The figure heard her footsteps and slowly turned.
Francesca.
She wore a pristine white coat, her dark hair tucked behind one ear. In her arms, she held her own bouquet of white lilies.
Three years had made her thinner, but her complexion was as pale as ever, tinged with the faint, ever-present scent of healer’s herbs.
Her makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly styled. She was still the cherished daughter the entire family had coddled and cared for.
“Chiara,” she said, her voice soft. “I knew you’d come see Dad the moment you got back.”
Chiara stepped forward and laid Griffin’s flowers on the grave.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone flat.
“I’m his daughter, too,” Francesca replied. “The memorial is tomorrow. I wanted to come say a few things to him alone.”
Chiara ignored her. She took a handkerchief from her purse and bent to wipe the dust from the photograph on her father’s headstone.
The picture was from his fortieth birthday. He wore a deep blue suit, the black wolf insignia of Nightfall pinned to his collar, the hint of a proud smile on his lips.
She knew that expression. It was the one he always wore after attending one of her school events.
“Dad died so suddenly,” Francesca said softly from behind her. “You left right after the funeral. There were things I never had the chance to say.”
Chiara straightened and turned to face her, her expression unreadable.
Francesca’s eyes slowly filled with tears.
“Chiara, do you blame me?”
She let the question hang in the air. “For taking the Luna position… and for taking Griffin?”