(Renata Pellegrini)
I stare at the object in his hands, I don’t know why, but my heart squeezes, I have no idea what he has on the other side and for some inexplicable reason I feel… afraid? But I’m already in deep shit anyway. I take the picture frame and turn it over, I lock my jaw as I recognize the male figure in the picture… it’s my father… he’s holding a baby and next to him is a woman, I feel my heart beating faster, it’s like I’m looking in a mirror…
“That woman…” I start to speak, but Vicenzo interrupts me.
“Marieta Martinelli, the principessa della famiglia Martinelli.” He says. “Your mother gave her life for you.”
“I-that can’t be true.” I speak nervously. “I am Brazilian, I was born and raised in Brazil, I…”
“You are Italian, you were born here, in Italy, your priest ran away with you to Brazil.”
“This can’t be true…” I say, still staring at the picture frame in my hands.
“Haven’t you ever found it strange that your father’s name is not on your documents?” Vincenzo asks me.
“At first, yes, but they explained to me that since my father was a foreigner, it would be better if I didn’t have his name on my documents so I wouldn’t suffer bullying.”
“A pimped-out explanation for an innocent child.”
“He doesn’t…”
“The reason your documents don’t have your father’s name on them is because he was sentenced to death by the Mafia, he was trying to hide it. He wanted to keep you safe.”
“But for fifteen years…”
“He managed to stay hidden, but when you got sick and needed to go to the hospital, Sandra was busy on duty and he had no other choice. The hospital wouldn’t accept to attend you without a major’s document, and because of this one time he showed his documents, he was found. You remember, don’t you?”
Yes… I remember… I broke my leg and the wound got infected. I remember the despair in my father’s eyes, but I thought it was because of my condition.
Three days after I was discharged, on my way home from school, as I passed through an alley I saw: several men in black suits surrounding my father. I started to approach, but my father’s eyes made me paralyze, I felt that he was begging me. I started to refuse, but I tripped and fell, this caught the men’s attention, but when they saw who was there, my mother ran past me, running towards them, when she grabbed the suit of one, sounds of gunshots echoed through my eardrums, I put my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, I saw my mother’s body fall already lifeless… the shot went through her head leaving a huge hole. My father went after them, but they were many against one… he too died, his body riddled with bullets. Tears were falling from my eyes, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, people started to approach and the men left running.
“It’s Sandra!” a neighbor shouted.
I was still in shock, I let go of my crutches and started to crawl, the smell of blood made my stomach sick, but still I didn’t stop, I held the body of my parents in my lap and cried, screamed, begged God to punish the men who did this, but to this day, no one knows who those men were who murdered my parents.
I know they were powerful men, because their brutal death was not even in the news, the police did nothing.
“Do you know why those men couldn’t find you?” Vincenzo’s voice brings me out of my reverie. I don’t answer him, I just stare into his eyes, then he continues: “Matteo, he found contact with Sandra’s mother, he always knew that the woman’s family didn’t like you and your father, because they knew you were dangerous. But Sandra was always stubborn because she loved Italian very much. Matteo indemnified your foster mother’s family, and when you were in college, he sent Juliana, the woman you think is the cause of getting an interview from Filippo’s company.”
“What?” my eyes widened. “My teacher…”
“She is not a real teacher, she is one of the women who got involved with Matteo. He is the one who made her go to the United States, he is the one who got the interview, he put an end to Filippo’s former secretary leaving the position open for you.”
“So that’s why she told me to say Matteo’s name.” I noticed, I didn’t understand because if they didn’t want to give me the job I could just say this name, but now it makes sense. “I don’t understand, why would he do that?”
“Because of Marieta. She was your betrothed, but Marieta fell in love with your father and got pregnant, Matteo liked Marieta, he had her as a friend, she begged him to help her. Matteo did not help her escape, but after he learned of her death and the success of your father’s escape with you, he helped them, Matteo gave your father money and with that money he was able to support himself until you turned one year old, after that he met Sandra and Matteo only interfered again after their death.”
“So… When I was about to be raped in that alley…”
“Yes, it was the security guards that Matteo hired. They were paid to protect you, but without you knowing it. These men only left the scene when you went to the United States, Matteo didn’t worry because you were with Filippo, he knew you would be safe.”
“But why? I …”
“You were promised to Filippo while still in your mother’s womb.”
“What does this mean?” I ask curiously.
“That means that you and Filippo are engaged, always have been.”
“But Filippo is married…”
“No!” Vincenzo interrupts me. “My brother is not married.”
“But he said in no uncertain terms that he would not let Mr. Dominic takes his wife!”
“Dominic is your grandfather! That’s who Matteo has hidden you from for all these years.”
I feel a knot forming in my brain, I can no longer understand the meaning of this conversation
“Dominic who sent the men who killed his father and foster mother, he also killed him…”
“From here I will take over.” A tired voice resounds behind me, I turn around and encounter Mr. Dominic.
“Who gave you permission to enter my house?” Vincenzo asks rudely, his gentle voice is now deep and chilling, not a good chilling, but a scary chilling.
“I leave the room, but not the house.” Dominic says. “Let me talk to my granddaughter.”
“She is the one who decides. Renata, do you want to talk to your parents’ killer?”
Vincenzo’s question makes me hold my breath. This man, with gray hair and a tired face is my grandfather, but he is also the person who ordered the death of my parents in Brazil.
“- I…”