Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
I nod, unable to push a word past my lips.
She steps back and gestures to inside. “Please, come in.”
I walk in the door and look up. My step falters as I’m taken aback, and my eyes instantly fill with tears. A huge painting hangs on the wall in the entryway. It’s at least six feet tall, and it’s a hand-painted picture of my father with her and their son.
He’s squatting down in a field of white flowers. The small boy, who looks only around three years old at the time, is sitting on his knee, looking up at him. My father’s arm is wrapped lovingly around the woman who is sitting on the grass beside them.
Her.
They look happy. So in love.
I drop my head, unable to move from the spot. Unable to speak through the lump in my throat. This is too much. I need to leave.
I can feel him. His spirit is here… with her.
Angelina gives me a sympathetic smile. “Just this way,” she says softly. We walk into the living area, and I frown as I look around. There are photos of my father everywhere. It’s like a shrine.
My thoughts go to my mother’s house, and how she has not one photo of him anywhere.
So different.
“Please, take a seat.” She offers me a chair, and I sit down awkwardly. “Can I get you a coffee, tea?”
Scotch, I think to myself. “No, thank you.”
She sits down opposite me, and I inhale as I try to calm myself down. I just want to hurl abuse her way.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” she starts.
I clench my jaw. My eyes roam over her coffee table, and I count the candles to try and distract myself.
“I’m scared for my son,” she says quietly.
My eyes rise to meet hers. “You should be.”
Her face falls. “I know you hate me.”
“Yes… I do.”
“Please don’t take this out on him.” Her eyes fill with tears. “He needs you. He needs your support.”
“What makes you think that I would want anything to do with him?”
“He’s your brother, and you’re a loyal man. I’ve watched you grow up.”
“From my father’s bed.”
She screws up her face and I close my eyes in regret. “This is pointless.” I stand and turn to walk out.
She stands in a rush. “Don’t go, please. I don’t know how to navigate this with Giuliano. I need your help.”
I stop still.
“Hate me all you want, but please don’t turn your back on him. You are his only family. He is your brother, Enrico.”
I close my eyes, disgusted with the position I find myself in.
“Can I bring him to you? Just meet him. Please. Just once. I won’t tell him who you are. He doesn’t find out anything for another three years yet, but I do need to prepare him. When the time comes and he finds out the truth, he will turn his back on me. If he doesn’t have the love and support of his brothers, he will be all alone in the world.” Her voice cracks. “He is just a child.”
I stare at the wall in front of me.
“Please, Enrico. If not for us, do it for your father.”
I close my eyes, knowing my conscience is getting in the way of my better judgement.
“Bring him to my house on Sunday afternoon,” I say flatly with my back to her.
“Thank you.”
I stand with my back to her for a few minutes, we don’t speak, we don’t move…eventually when I can’t take the silence anymore, I walk out of the house. That is the first and last time I will ever come here.
Olivia
“So?” Natalie raises her glass my way. “Tell me everything.”
I smile at my inquisitive friend. We’re in a bar, after work, having a few drinks. Enrico is picking me up in half an hour. “About?” I ask.
She leans in and whispers, “You know…the creepy bodyguard.”
“Him.” I roll my eyes in disgust. “He’s not a bodyguard. He works for Enrico.”
“Doing what?”
I frown. “I don’t even know to be honest.”
“Are you sure he was in your bathroom?”
“No.” I shrug and glance around at Maso and Marley who are leaning up against the wall at the front of the bar, watching me from a safe distance. “Maybe I imagined the whole thing. It does seem random, doesn’t it?”
“Did he seem creepy the night you met him? When he asked for your number.”
“No, but then he gave me the look that day at Enrico’s. It seemed so out of order, and it threw me.”
“The come fuck me look?”
“Uh-huh.” I sip my drink and shrug. “I don’t know; I’m probably imagining the entire thing. He could be married with five kids.”
“Where’s your other friend gone—the gay guy?” She frowns.
“Oh, Giorgio has been in Roma. He comes back this week.”
“How long has he been gone for?”
“Two weeks, I think. He works between the two offices. I’m looking forward to him coming back. I’ve missed him.” I smile as I watch my friend, and I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You look well, Nat. Milan agrees with you.”