I need you to take him under your wing and remind him of how much he was wanted and loved.
My love for his mother has not waned in death, he was my gift to her. Love personified.
Care for him, love him, and teach him what I have had the time to teach you.
Look after my beloved Angelina, and your beautiful mother.
I miss them both 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
The room is silent, tears stream down my face and I drag my eyes up to meet his.
We stare at each other for an extended time and then he comes to me and cups my face in his hand. “I’ve come to say goodbye,” he whispers.
My face distorts as I shake my head. “No.” I push him in the chest. “Don’t you dare say that to me.” I begin to slap him away as I lose control. Don’t touch me, I’m outraged at this terrible lie he’s telling me.
“Baby.” He wrestles me and then takes me into his arms and holds me tight as I cry against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers against my forehead. “I need you to go to Paris.”
I pull out of his arms. “No, I’m not leaving you.”
“You are not safe here. The person who killed Enrico is still here in Italy. I need you to go live with your brother, Andrea.”
“No. I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
He screws up his face and this time it is him fighting tears. “We can never be together, Francesca.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m your brother.”
I step back from him, I need to get away from this hurt.
“Stop it,” I spit. “Stop lying.” I grab the letter and scrunch it in a ball and throw it at him. “I don’t want your stupid fucking letter. Take it away. I hate it,” I cry.
My chest is shaking as I struggle for air and he just stares at me in a detached state.
“I have to go,” he says calmly.
“No.” I reach for him. “Don’t you leave me.”
He kisses my forehead. “Goodbye.” He pulls out of my arms and walks toward the door.
I cry, howl-to-the-moon sobs, this can’t be happening.
He opens the door and Anna is standing there, her face falls as she sees me so upset.
“Francesca,” she whispers.
He brushes past her and walks down the steps, I sob out loud.
“What have you done to her?” my mother yells after him.
“Stay out of my way,” he growls.
“You are not welcome in this house again; do you hear me?” she yells.
Oh no. I run to the top of the stairs.
Giuliano turns back toward her and lifts his chin, as if infuriated. “I believe I own this house, Bianca,” he sneers.
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.
5
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?”