Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
“I don’t hate you, Giuliano.”
“Why would you want me to stay at the helm if I’m not a Ferrara? This doesn’t make sense; this whole fucking scenario is off,” he snaps. “The more I think about it, the more fucked up this is. Did you put Lombardi up to this?”
“What?” She gasps. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Something is off here,” he yells. “It doesn’t add up.”
“I know and I agree, there is something off here. I don’t trust Lombardi for a second,” she snaps back and I know her temper is being tested too. “But what if you are his son, Giuliano? What then? Where the hell do we go from there?”
“I’m not,” he snaps.
“You might be.”
“I know my mother,” he says softly. “And I know how much she loved him. She wouldn’t have done this. There is no way, it goes against everything I knew about her.”
“But what if she did?” she demands. “Are you really going to turn your back on the family who raised you?”
“You didn’t raise me,” he scoffs. “You fucking hated me.”
“I never hated you, I hated what you represented, which was my husband’s love for another woman.”
My heart sinks…poor Mom, I hate that she went through that marriage.
“Look, I’m sorry that my father was an adultering fucking prick. But that doesn’t change where we are now.”
“Do not speak badly of him,” she snaps. “I will not have him disrespected in such a manner. He would be rolling in his grave right now at the language you are using to me.”
“I’ll say what I fucking like,” he growls in response. “And fuck him, it’s all his fault I’m in this fucking mess.
I smile to myself as I listen.
“To be completely honest,” my mother sighs, “I don’t think you are Lombardi’s son, you are too much like your father and Enrico. But we have to have a backup plan,” she says.
“Why?”
“Because I cannot have my daughter be with the head of Lombardi Industries. He murdered her brother, her father and grandfather. I will not stand by and let you defect to his side. She would follow you to hell and back.”
“I’m not fucking defecting, are you listening to me at all, Bianca,” he barks. “I hate him more than you do, but spending my entire life living a lie, pretending to be someone I’m not and looking over my shoulder, is not an option for me.”
“Do not be a fool and let pride cloud your judgement on this,” she says, her voice rising. “In the event that you are a Lombardi, we keep it quiet. What does it matter if you are a Ferrara by blood or by marriage? Either way, if you marry Francesca you will be a Ferrara in the eyes of the law. You keep running the business as you are. Nobody will ever know. You do not tell a soul about your meeting with Lombardi, do you hear me?”
I close my eyes as hope blooms in my chest. Take the offer, baby.
Silence.
I listen and I know he’s thinking about it.
More silence.
What’s happening out there?
“And how will we ever know?” Giuliano says. “Do you really think I’m going to trust a piece of fucking paper about Lombardi’s DNA?”
“I agree.”
“I can’t ask him to meet me at a lab because it will probably be a trap. Who knows what that piece of shit is planning?” he says.
“Agreed.”
More silence.
“Hello, Matteo.” I hear my mother’s voice. I frown, what’s she doing? She’s calling my brother?
“I need you and Andrea to come home today,” she says before listening for a moment. “Your brother needs you.” She listens again. “Giuliano. Yes, you heard me right. Come home now.” She hangs up. “We will do a DNA test for the four of you together and know the truth once and for all.”
Shit.
I tiptoe back up the hall and open the front door and close it loudly, then I walk out into the living room as if I’ve just arrived back.
Giuliano is staring out the window, his back to us, deep in thought.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Your mother was just leaving,” Giuliano says as he turns back toward us.
“No. I’m not.” My mother smiles calmly, “Make me a cup of coffee, darling, we haven’t had our visit yet.”
Giuliano rolls his eyes and I smile and hug my mother. “I love you,” I whisper as I hold her tight.
“I love you too, darling,” she whispers back.
She’s trying to fix this…and maybe, just maybe.
She can.
* * *
Giuliano turns the hot water tap off and slides back in under the hot water, the deep bath sloshes over the side.
The bathroom is hot and steamy and Giuliano and I are lying top and tail in a deep bubble-filled bath. His legs are spread cradling my body and my legs are tucked under his arms.
We’ve been in here for over an hour, we lie until the water cools, let some water out and then refill it with hot once more.