“Whatever you say, baby,” he sighs.
Did this man just call me baby outside of the bedroom? He really wants to get laid, doesn’t he?
He grabs the remote to the TV beside me and turns it on. I look at him weirdly.
“Stop looking at me like that,ragazza. Now, what do you want to watch?” He scoots closer. Is this man being somewhat casual and romantic with me right now?
Where has the real Mr. Donatello gone? Because at this moment he’s gone to outer space.
“What aboutThe House of Gucci? I know you love that movie with your whole soul.” I look at him knowingly, ready for his snarky remark. It never comes. He turns back to the TV and begins putting the title in the search bar.
“I was kidding. You don’t have to go through two hours of pain for me.” He just looks at me while pressing play, smirking once the white glow of the TV hits his features.
“I’ve never seen the movie. I only know the story. You’ve captured my interest with your remark.” Of course, he’s doing this as a reverse annoyance tactic.
Reaching the thirty-minute mark when Patrizia and Maurizio are happy, his family is brought into the picture again.
“She reminds me of my ex-wife.” I jump. Is he really going to mention his past with me? I’m now thoroughly freaked out.
“What did you just say?” I need to clarify that I heard him right because at this point, my brain cells are less than zero.
“Patrizia reminds me of Adèle.”
“Are you okay? I think you have the plague.” I press my hand against his forehead, looking for any sign of a fever. He grabs my wrist and pulls it down.
“I’m being open about something for once, and this is how you react.” He scoffs.
“Excuse me if you being the opposite of closed off for once is peculiar.”
“You’ve never asked, so how am I supposed to tell you things you want to know about?”
This is really weird.
“Okay, so if you’re so open, please go on about how your ex-wife has any relation to a psychopath?”
“Adèle isn’t a psychopath. She’s just overly spoiled.”
“You call me spoiled all the time. What a great way to start.”
“You’re not spoiled in the way she is. The one time her father didn’t give her what she wanted, she hurt people in the process, including me.” He sighs and goes on. I listen carefully, interested.
“When I first met her, I was on a yacht having dinner with one of my investors. I remember seeing her for the first time. She was so proper and poised. I knew I needed to get to know her. We talked for hours, and I was immediately entranced by her. She didn’t give much away, and yet, I felt like I knew her. Afterwards, I walked her back to her hotel in Monaco. I wanted to kiss her that night, but I knew she would refuse, so I didn’t. I went on to race, never once forgetting our conversation. I won that year, and she came running up to me. At that moment, I knew that she was mine. But she was never mine to keep. Maybe in my heart, but not in hers. I was never in hers. I fell for her. Hard. One thing led to another, and I found myself asking her father for her hand. I was a stupid, love-sick boy back then, and all I wanted was her. Her father accepted, but one thing stood out to me when I was leaving. He said something very ominous.I’m glad she moved on.I stopped but didn’t turn to ask him anything. I just stood there thinking, who had she moved on from? Why did he tell me this now? I walked out and didn’t touch the subject. That is until I walked in on her fucking another man who she claimed to be the love of her life.” I just sat there and looked at him with wide eyes. She cheated on him. Now that, I wasn’t expecting.
“I was shocked. The funny thing is, I didn’t cry. I just felt broken, I guess. I don’t do well with emotion, and holy fuck did she take everything out of me. I told my mom I wanted to break off the engagement. She said no because they had ties to families that she wanted to know more about. You know, the ironic thing is my life has always been surrounded by organized crime. I’ve never hated anything more.”
He could have left that detail out, it’s almost like he knows...
“So, I married her until my mom had drained out every last drop of information she could get. The whole time we were married, I was miserable. Drinking like it was my lifeline. She always had him around, and by that point, I was friends with him. I know the whole situation is fucked.” He sighs and looks at me, his hard exterior returning.
“Why didn’t she just marry the guy she was in love with? It doesn’t make sense,” I ask him.
“Because of her dad. One thing about Adèle is that she needs her father’s approval for everything. He coddled her as a child and still does, if you couldn’t tell. But this is the one thing he refused to give her.”
“Why did her father say no?”
“Because her and Crue fell in love when they were young.” I smack my hand over my mouth, interrupting his sentence. Holy Fuck.
“The fucking photographer?” He nods.