My mother frowns.
He steps toward her, contempt dripping from his every pore. “I was going to give you a grieving period. But now….” He gives her a sarcastic smile. “Now, I’m not. You have twenty-one days to get out of my house.”
“What are you talking about, this is my house?”
“And yet, everything is in my name.” He smiles sarcastically. “I wonder why that is?”
“You’ve gone crazy,” she whispers.
He steps toward her and she steps back. “You have cuckolded the last Ferrara man.”
Her mouth falls open in shock.
“Do you think I don’t know what you did to my mother,” he whispers darkly.
Her face falls.
“You are going to pay for every fucking tear she has cried.”
“Giuliano, no,” Lorenzo says. “Don’t do this.”
“Stay out of my way, Lorenzo, or I will kill you myself,” he bellows.
What the hell?
“You will not get one more fucking cent of Ferrara money, you conniving bitch!” he screams.
“What am I supposed to do with no money?” she cries. “You cannot throw me out on the street.”
He stares at her, cold as ice. “Watch me.”
He turns and walks out the door, it slams shut behind him.
My mouth falls open in horror.
Dear God.
Francesca
The café is busy and bustling, Anna holds her newspaper open to show me a pic on the social pages. “Look who it is?”
“Who?” I narrow my eyes and peer across the table, coffee in hand. “I can’t even see it, I swear to God, I need glasses?”
“I told you to get your eyes checked ages ago. Guess who Amber Lopez is dating?”
I roll my eyes; Amber Lopez is an insanely beautiful supermodel. The current it girl, she’s everywhere. “Ugh…who?” I sip my coffee.
“Giuliano Ferrara.”
“What?” I snatch the paper out of her hands. “Let me see.” I speed-read the heading.
Amber Lopez off the market
The half-page picture is of Amber and Giuliano walking hand in hand down the street. He’s in a black dinner suit and she’s in a skimpy pink evening gown. “What the hell?” I scoff as I stare at it. “Where was this taken?”
“Brazil. The wedding of Fabio Grimaldi the soccer player,” Anna replies.
I stare at the photo, Giuliano and she are holding hands as they walk toward a yacht. He’s smiling as he talks, his dark hair is messed to perfection and she’s looking up at him all doe-eyed. Amber is beautiful, a body to die for, coffee-brown colored, shoulder-length hair with blond sun-kissed highlights around her face. Big lips and green eyes. She’s absolutely stunning. I flick the paper back to Anna in disgust.
“That’s a blast from the past, hey?” Anna reads the story. “Imagine how good-looking their kids would be?”
“I’d rather not,” I reply deadpan. “And I wouldn’t get too excited, it won’t last.”
“It’s Amber Lopez.” Anna smirks. “No guy on earth would dump her.”
“It is Giuliano, remember.” I roll my eyes. “He probably fucked the bride in the bathroom at her pre-wedding dinner,” I mutter into my coffee.
Anna giggles. “Probably.”
It’s been ten years since I last laid eyes on Giuliano Ferrara and to this very day, it annoys me that women love him, it annoys me even more that he loves them back. I still have a twinge of ownership over him, even though I know I never did.
Sometimes, when I’m alone, I let myself think of him.
Of what happened between us all those years ago when we were kids.
I wonder what our father would make of his choices and who he’s become.
Unlike my father and the generations before him who worked in the shadows, unnoticed and unobtrusive, polite in company and secretive until the very end.
Giuliano Ferrara runs Italy with an iron fist, he does things differently.
He makes his own rules, the ultimate enigma.
He doesn’t get chauffeured around in the back of a black Mercedes, he drives himself in his black Ferrari. He doesn’t have secret mistresses hidden in Lake Como, he dates models and film stars, and flaunts them to the world.
He doesn’t have guards, he is the guard. He looks after his men, not the other way around. Known for his intelligence and cold calculation, nobody messes with him.
Ferrara Industries now own the biggest cocaine market in the world.
And I only know this because I have to listen to my mother vent to my brothers about how his father would be rolling in his grave at raising such a violent criminal.
But if I’m completely honest, and I can be with you…I’m happy he’s doing things his way.
Being a criminal is not the life I would want for him, but I’m proud that he’s done it his way and not conformed to what was expected. In the beginning there was a major backlash by his men, but in the end, he won their respect and is now revered by all.
I also know that in reality, if he didn’t step up to the plate and become the leader that my father thought he was, he wouldn’t have survived, he has a huge target on his back and I’m glad he’s good at dodging bullets.
I just wish he didn’t shoot them…. But, unfortunately, that is who he is now.
It is what it is.
I should probably have regrets that I lost my virginity to my brother.
But, the truth is, I don’t. Not one single regret.
How could I regret falling in love with such a beautiful boy?
Of course, I know that same boy doesn’t exist anymore. But our secret is safe. That short period of time in our life was sacred. We both know what happened, and while it’s never been discussed or touched on, we both know we were just a stepping-stone in each other’s lives.
He’s never tried to contact me, nor have I contacted him. It was like the world as we knew it stopped on the day he found out that I was his sister.
They say time heals all wounds, and I guess in some ways that’s true.
I’ve watched from the sidelines as he’s brought my mother to her knees.
Just as he promised, she has never received another cent from the Ferrara dynasty. Not that she needed it, my father paid her a salary of millions of dollars every month that they were married, she’s a very wealthy woman in her own right.
It’s just that now, she spends her money and not Ferrara’s. He won’t even pay for her security, she’s completely cut off.
Surprisingly, a month after he took over, Giuliano transferred the real estate portfolio into my, Matteo and Andrea’s names. He broke rank and instead of the assets staying together in the collective Ferrara pool, he gave us our equal share. Something that has never been done in all of our family history over the generations.
In return, he won my brothers’ respect, infuriated my mother and gave me the freedom to live my life as I want to.
I’m no longer controlled, my every move monitored.
As Giuliano asked, I relocated to France in the month after Enrico’s death, I felt safer there. And if the truth be told, Italy didn’t have the same sparkle to it for me anymore. Knowing that your family’s money comes from generations of crime is shameful. The day I found out was soul destroying.
And while I’m not stupid, I appreciate the luxury I’m afforded. I understand my ancestors and what they have passed down, I don’t think it will ever sit with me well. How could it?
A mutual respect hangs silently between us.
We don’t need to say anything to each other, we don’t need closure, we both know where we sit in the world.
Giuliano Ferrara’s place, a leader in the dark world.
My place, an interior designer with the biggest design house in France.
I’m happily in love with a wonderful man who I’ve been dating for three years.
Marcel is a blond-haired, blue-eyed French diplomat. We met at university and he is kind and loving and all that is good. We don’t live together, although he would like to. I live with Anna, she was always visiting me and eventually met a French man too. We have a great time together and unlike me, Anna wants to return to live in Italy one day. I’m happy here.
My future with Marcel is bright, and refreshingly normal.