Page 110 of Ferrara

Page List


Font:  

He smiles darkly. “In more ways than one.”

I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.

“It’s time to come home, son.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I’m your father.”

20

Giuliano

“Liar.”

“Am I?” he replies calmly. “Are you positive of that?”

I glare at him as animosity begins to pump through my veins.

He slides an envelope across the table to me. “My DNA profile is at this lab. If you don’t believe me, believe science. This will give you the proof that you need.”

I stare at the envelope in front of me, he has proof.

What the fuck?

“I only have weeks to live, I need you to take over the Lombardi operations. You are the only person capable of running the company at the level I do. To take us into the next generation.”

“Go to hell,” I sneer. “I wouldn’t touch your infected company if my life depended on it.”

“Perhaps it does.” He smiles as if predicting my reaction. “You would prefer to run a company that doesn’t belong to you? You are not a Ferrara; you will never be a Ferrara. And one day, they will find out and you will be outed as a traitor, a Lombardi to the bone. And where will you be then? Do you think they will stand by you? He didn’t even give you his last name until after he died, he was ashamed of you. Tell me, Giuliano, will they reward all of your hard work? We both know the answer to that, don’t we?”

The sky turns red.

“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper.

“This is what I respect. I tell you that you’re not a Ferrara and yet all you can think about is killing me.” He smirks. “I like that in you…you think like me.”

I pick up the steak knife from the table and I hold it in my hand.

“What are you going to do?” He gestures around the room. “Stab me to death in a crowded restaurant for all to see? You don’t have the police commissioner’s protection anymore, Giuliano. Remember?”

“You took care of that,” I reply.

“Nicolai was getting in my way.” He shrugs. “I did what had to be done.”

Something sinister snaps inside of me.

I pick up my knife and drive it through the back of his hand as it rests, pinning it to the table.

He winces as I twist the knife farther through his flesh.

“And I will do what has to be done.” I sneer as I glare at him, relishing his pain. “I will kill you and it will hurt.”

“Don’t be a fool, Giuliano,” he whispers in pain. “Listen to me.”

I twist the knife again, pressing my point. “Stay the fuck away from me.” I stand, grab the envelope and without looking back I leave the restaurant in a rush. I storm through the front door and up the street to my Lamborghini, I dive in and pull out onto the street in a rush. My men scramble as they run to their cars behind me to catch up.

I grip my steering wheel with white-knuckle force as I floor it.

My world…spinning on its axis.

No.

I pull into my underground parking lot and take the elevator up to my floor. I couldn’t be at work, and I don’t want to…I can’t even be with Francesca.

I need to be alone.

The elevator stops at my floor and I walk into my apartment, I haven’t stepped foot inside here since Francesca and I moved my things out two weeks ago.

With a shaky hand I pour myself a glass of scotch and drain it, I refill it so fast that it sloshes over the sides and I drain it again.

It burns all the way down, a happy distraction from the way my heart is hurting.

My mother slept with him.

Another man.

Lombardi.

When all this time I resented him, had my father as the villain…he’s not even my father.

I screw up my face in tears and I fill my glass again and I drain it down.

My entire life is a lie, brought up as Linden, told I was a Ferrara and now…my stomach twists at the reality of how fucked-up this situation really is.

I get a vision of my mother and father kissing, so besotted with each other.

She declared her undying love. She slept with someone else.

My stomach rolls with nausea.

Who am I?

I don’t even know who.

I run my two hands through my hair and as the perspiration beads on my forehead, I begin to pace.

Francesca

My procession of cars pulls into the underground parking lot just on six p.m., I just did a spin class with Anna.

I see Giuliano’s black Lamborghini parked in his parking bay and I get a little thrill.

Coming home to him will never get old.

I take the elevator to the top floor and open the door to silence. “Babe?” I call.

Where is he?

I walk through the apartment. “Jules,” I call. “Where are you?” I keep looking around and go out onto the terrace. “Jules?”


Tags: T.L. Swan Crime