We stare at each other.
“That is all,” I eventually sigh.
“Yes, sir.” He stands and makes for the door. “The penthouse is ready in Milan for you.”
“Thank you.”
“When will you be moving in?”
I turn back to my computer. “Tonight.”
“So soon?”
I stay silent.
“Your mother….”
I clench my jaw, I haven’t spoken to my mother since this all went down. I have nothing to say, my heart wouldn’t take it. I need to be stronger before we have this conversation.
“Is none of your business,” I snap.
“I don’t think….”
I look up at him, annoyed. “Lorenzo, do not question my decisions. They are mine to make.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Close the door.”
The door clicks quietly and I pick up my father’s letter and reread the last few lines.
Look after your beautiful mother.
I miss her dearly.
I love you, my son. More than anything, I love you.
Be brave, be strong, and try to understand my life and why I haven’t always been honest with you. My only goal was to protect your sense of self.
I pray that I have.
All my love,
Papa.
x
I get a lump in my throat.
My mother loved him with all of her heart, she gave up her family, her country, all of her friends, everything…to be with him…and to think of how he treated her.
An insignificant mistress.
He took her dignity.
I imagine her alone all those nights, knowing that he was in bed with his wife.
The guards that went between the houses, everyone knew and like a fool, she was forced to face them.
Every time he left us and returned to his family, how must she have felt? How did she feel when he returned?
Betrayal washes over me like a toxic wave.
She had no one to share this burden with, she was all alone with a little baby.
His baby.
And he let her be.
The letter blurs as the tears steal my vision.
Contempt pumps through my blood like a poison.
I hate him, with all of my soul.
I fucking hate him.
I pull the car in through the grand gates and I’m stopped by security, the guard’s face falls as he sees me. “Hello, Mr. Ferrara.”
“Hello.”
His eyes flick to the cars behind and Lorenzo runs up to my window. “No, no, no. What are we doing here?” he stammers. “Giuliano, no.”
“Are you going to open the gates or shall I drive through them?” I snap.
He wrings his hands together as if praying. “Please, I beg of you. Leave them out of it. This has nothing to do with them, they do not need to be involved.”
I glare at him.
“I beg of you.”
“Open the fucking gates,” I scream as I lose my patience. “Do. Not. Make. Me. Ask. Again,” I warn them.
The guards and Lorenzo exchange worried looks and the gates slowly open.
I drive up the long driveway with my heart in my throat.
Francesca
I lie on my side and stare at the wall. It feels like the end of the world; perhaps it is.
Enrico, my beloved brother and Olivia are gone.
And so is my love….
Where has Giuliano been? Why can’t I reach him? I’m heartbroken and he is nowhere to be seen, this isn’t like him at all, has something happened to him too?
My door opens in a rush, Anna bursts in. “Giuliano is here.”
I sit up. “What?”
“He’s out the front fighting with Lorenzo.”
Without a thought I run out of the room and down the stairs and burst out the front door, just as Anna said, Giuliano is standing near the procession of cars having a stand-up argument with Lorenzo.
“Giuliano,” I call.
He looks up and my heart skips a beat as I smile.
He’s here.
Screw this, I’m not playing this game anymore. “Let him in,” I call.
“I don’t think….” Lorenzo says.
Giuliano brushes past him and rushes up the steps toward me, he takes my hand and pulls me into the house and slams the door. “Where is your bedroom?”
“Huh?”
“Your bedroom?” he demands.
“Upstairs.”
Pulling me by the hand, he leads me up the stairs, we pass Anna on our way.
“Hello, Anna,” he says.
Her eyes widen. “Hi.”
My mother comes out of her bedroom on the second floor and she gasps when she sees him. “What are you doing?” she cries.
Giuliano stops still and glares at her. “Whatever I fucking like,” he sneers.
My eyes widen in horror.
Oh no, this is bad, nobody speaks to my mother like that and lives to tell the tale.
“Where is your bedroom, Francesca?” he barks as he continues to lead me up the stairs.
My shocked eyes look back at my mother and Anna who have been rendered speechless. Why the hell is he being so rude?
“Top floor.”
We arrive at the top floor and I gesture to my room and he walks in and closes the door behind us and locks it.
“What are you doing?” I stammer, I glance down to see him dressed in a charcoal suit and tie, trendy shoes and all businesslike. “Why do you look like this?”
He puts his hands on his hips and stares at me.
“And why haven’t you returned my calls?” I whisper angrily. “It’s been a nightmare, my brother Enrico was killed, I’ve been distraught, I needed you.”
“I know.” His eyes search mine. “That’s why I’m here.” He takes my shoulders in his hands and sits me on the bed. “Francesca, baby. You need to listen.”
“What’s wrong with you, why are you acting so weird?”
“Do you know who I am?”
“What?”
“Do you know who I really am?”
I screw up my face in confusion. “What the hell’s gotten into you? You’re my boyfriend.”
He holds his hands out wide. “Is that all I am?”
“What are you talking about?” I whisper angrily.
“When your father died, did he leave you a letter?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Do you know anything about your brothers’ letters?”
“What letters?”
His face drops and he sits beside me, he cups my face in his hands and leans in and gently kisses me. “I love you,” he whispers.
I smile through tears. “I so desperately needed to hear that. I love you too.”
He takes my hands in his as if steeling himself. “This week….” His voice trails off as if lost for words.
“What is it?”
“I’ve learned something.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “About myself…and you.”
“Like what?”