“I’m not going to a funeral. I’m not wearing that.” I walk into my bathroom and do my hair.
She appears at the door. “Giulio, please. For me, will you just try to be nice this afternoon. Enrico Ferrara is not someone you mess with and I really want this to work out.”
I roll my eyes, unimpressed. “What makes you think I want to work for him anyway?”
“Because this is an amazing opportunity.” She straightens my collar. “And….” She pauses as if choosing her words carefully. “Your father would have wanted you to work for him.”
“Stop using Dad to get me to do what you want.”
“Please?” She smiles hopefully.
I twist my lips.
“Best behavior, promise me?”
I exhale heavily. “Fine, but we are only staying for ten minutes, the boys are picking me up in an hour.”
“When are you going to stop gallivanting around with your friends? It’s time to take some responsibility. Today is important.”
“Mom, seriously.” I brush past her out into the hall. “Stop nagging me. I’m not five, I’ll get my own job.”
“I want you to work for Ferrara,” she calls after me as I take the stairs.
Fucking hell, what is it with her and this guy?
“Let’s go,” I call back. “I have to be back early, I have a party on tonight.”
“You always have a party on.”
I widen my eyes. “Exactly my point.”
We walk out and get into the back of the waiting car.
“Hi.”
“Hello Giuliano, Angelina.”
Lorenzo smiles happily, he was my dad’s best friend. A constant in our lives since my father’s death three years ago.
“It’s a good day, yes?” He smiles.
“Let’s hope,” Mom replies. I frown over at her, why is she so wound up about this?
Lorenzo is a good friend, he stepped up and looked after my mom and me. I’m not quite sure what we would have done without him, the last few years have been hard.
He and Mom chat away as we drive and fifteen minutes later, we pull into a grand driveway. I peer in at the expansive property. Huge stone fences with a waterfront mansion in the distance.
Nice….
We pull up at a checkpoint and a man comes to the window, he dips his head and opens the oversized metal gates.
As we drive through, I look back out the rear window at the gates slowly sliding closed behind us and the guards all standing around.
Fuck, I thought our house had hard-core security, but this place is next-level. The car pulls into a circular driveway area, another group of men stand around.
What are they all doing? Do they work here, or is some kind of meeting going on? Maybe this is a group interview thing?
“Just act natural,” my mother whispers.
Huh?
The door opens and a man steps back and nods. “Angelina, lovely to see you.”
“Thank you, Mario.” My mother smiles softly as she climbs out of the car.
His eyes find mine.
“Giuliano, it’s a privilege to meet you, sir.” He dips his head.
I frown, how does he know my name?
“Hello.”
“This is a great day.” He smiles to my mother and holds his hand toward the front door. “This way.”
We walk up the huge sandstone steps and my mother knocks on the door, I glance back to see everyone standing around watching us.
What are they all doing?
This is fucking weird.
The door opens in a rush. Large brown eyes meet mine and not the friendly kind.
I instantly feel uneasy.
“Enrico,” my mother says softly.
“Hello,” he says coldly as his eyes stay fixed on me.
How rude.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
“This is my son, Giuliano. Giuliano, this is Enrico Ferrara.”
He glares at me and then puts his hand out. “Hello.”
I reluctantly shake it. He’s tall with dark hair, olive skin and brown eyes. He has this aura around him of power.
Animosity swims between us like a tangible force.
I get the feeling he doesn’t like me and that suits me fine, because I already know that the feeling is mutual.
Rich, spoilt prick.
Like fuck I’m ever working for him.
“Please, come in.” He turns and walks up the hallway and I give a subtle shake of my head to my mother, she hits my leg.
“Giulio, please,” she whispers. “You promised.”
I may be a lot of things, but a good actor isn’t one of them. My father always said that my honesty was my greatest strength and yet, my greatest weakness.
We walk out into the kitchen area, and I lock eyes with a girl. She’s around my age and has long dark hair and porcelain skin, with the most unusual eyes I’ve ever seen.
We stare at each other and my heart somersaults in my chest.
Who is she?
“This is Olivia.” He points to a hot blond woman. “And this is Francesca, my sister.”
Francesca.
My eyes flick to him, his sister…fuck it.
They all continue to talk, but Francesca and I just stare at each other as the air swirls, the physical attraction between us is palpable.