I was wrong, at least then I knew who I was.
This is the worst day of my life.
* * *
Incompetence, is there a worse feeling in the world?
I don’t think so.
I sit and stare at the computer screen, determined to try to understand the information before me. Books are strewn all over the desk in front of me. I’ve studied and studied this week, so much to learn.
It’s been seven days since I learned my fate.
Ten long days since I’ve spoken to her.
I exhale heavily and pick up my father’s handwritten letter. I skim through it. I must have read it over five hundred times.
Every time it hurts more than the last.
Knock, knock sounds on the door.
“Come in,” I call.
Lorenzo puts his head around the door. “The tailor is here with your suits, Giuliano.”
I nod once. “Thanks.”
I’ve had people fussing around me all week; apparently, I have to look the part now.
“Have you got a minute?” he asks.
I exhale and put my letter down. “Yes, come in.”
Lorenzo walks in and sits down at the desk. He stays silent and I know he has something on his mind.
“What is it?”
“I don’t….” He cuts himself off.
I raise my eyebrow impatiently. “What?”
“With all due respect, sir, I really don’t think it’s a good idea that you employ your two best friends.”
“Why not?”
“This is a family business.”
The audacity.
I smirk, annoyed. “I trust nobody here and my two right-hand men will be loyal to me and only me. They are my only family now.”
“You can trust me,” he whispers.
“I couldn’t even trust my own fucking parents, Lorenzo, what makes you think I would trust you?”
“How long are you going to hold such contempt for us all?”
I stare at him flatly. “Until you die.”
His brow furrows. “You say that like it’s a promise.”
“Maybe it is.”
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?