by T L Swan
I’m too confused to articulate a single thought.
Blinding anger is all that I can see.
Lorenzo opens the door with his own key and we follow him in. My heart constricts as I look around. This place is so Stefano. He loved it here.
With my chest in my throat, I follow Mario to the office at the end of the hall.
“Please, take a seat,” he says.
I sit down at the large mahogany desk. Lorenzo sits beside me, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. His tears won’t stop.
Mario begins opening locked filing cabinets with his keys, taking out large folders and putting them onto the desk in front of me. I watch him for ten minutes. He eventually sits down opposite me.
He falls silent as he stares at me, and after a while he sighs. “My deepest condolences, Rico. My heart is breaking today.”
I exhale heavily as emotion threatens to take over.
“It is with deepest regret that I’m here, but I have strict instructions in the event of this happening. You have been kept out of the family business on purpose.”
I glance over to Lorenzo. “Why?” I ask.
“Your father wanted you to have a carefree childhood.” He pauses. “He knew that, in the event of their deaths, you would find out everything you needed to. He had faith that you would have the knowledge you needed and would know what to do. Although it doesn’t seem like it, he has prepared you over the years. He thought ahead.”
I frown in confusion.
Mario opens a large leather box that has a folder inside. “As the oldest Ferrara son, I must advise you that, as of this moment, all the family business now lies in your hands. You are the sole owner of Ferrara enterprises.” He begins to read. “Ferrara Sports Cars, valued at nine billion euro The Flamingo Bell Football League side, and the four football stadiums. Seventy million euro worth of real estate.” He slides his finger over the list of assets as he reads them out. “Five hundred and twenty-two high class brothels. Seventy-two VIP strip clubs.”
What the fuck?
My phone beeps, and I turn it over thinking it may be my mother. A picture of a clifftop view over the ocean comes to life on the screen, alongside a text.
Arrived safely.
Wish you were here.
Olivia.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling like I’m about to explode. “Carry on.”
“Nine casinos worldwide, valued at an estimated fourteen billion euro.”
I stare at him as he reads through the list. The room begins to spin.
“Four thousand staff and another eleven hundred personal staff.”
“Personal staff?”
Mario looks up over his glasses and closes the book. He clasps his hands in front of him. “You’re not a stupid man, Enrico.”
I clench my jaw.
“Not all of the Ferrara businesses are reputable.” He pauses. “But it has been vital to keep these parts of the business going in order to support the legitimate businesses. Your grandfather was a shrewd businessman. The generations before him, however, were not. It was those businesses, though, that gave Stefano the funds needed to build an empire.”
“Drugs?”
His eyes hold mine. “Among other things. You will be briefed on that side of the business.”
I drop my head in shame, and Lorenzo puts his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, son,” he whispers.
“You will need to resign from the police force immediately to begin your training,” Mario says.
“Fuck you. I’ll do nothing of the sort.” I make to stand, and Lorenzo pushes me back down into my seat.
A trace of a smile crosses Mario’s face. “Your father always said that you will be the best leader the family has ever had. He pushed you to be a policeman to learn how the other side of the law works.”
I stare at him, completely lost. “Why?”
“So that you would have an edge over everyone else.”
“I want nothing to do with this.”
He smiles sadly. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, son. There are a lot of people who want to take your throne. We have had word that your father’s bodyguards are missing.”
I sit up. “You mean?’
“Our men don’t go missing unless they’re dead. This wasn’t an accident, Rico.”
Anger begins to surge through my blood.
“We think we know,” Lorenzo says, “and we’re waiting for confirmation.”
My eyes flick between the two of them. “Who did this?” I demand.
“Rico,” Mario says as he holds my gaze. “At this point, you have two options. You take the reins, or you prepare to die. Your skin is the next one they will want as a trophy.”
I stare at him.
“Take over the empire… or you and your family—your mother, grandmother, and sister—will no doubt be murdered in cold blood. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Fuck you. I will do nothing of the sort,” I hiss angrily.
He narrows his eyes. “So, you’ll leave it to Andrea then. Or perhaps Matteo?”
I stare at him as my mind goes to my two gentle brothers.
“Your family assets need to be protected, Enrico. Andrea can’t do this job. He isn’t strong enough. We both know that, and Matteo is too young.”
“Does she know?”
“Your mother?” Lorenzo asks. I nod. “No, and she never will. Unless you don’t do the right thing and she wakes up one day with a bag over her head or in the trunk of a car. Or perhaps she’ll be mourning the death of Francesca, instead,” he says sadly.
My stomach twists.
“How will it feel to have that on your conscience, Enrico?” Mario says. “The family needs your strength now. Our men need your strength,” Lorenzo pleads.
“Shut up,” I whisper. “Shut the fuck up.”
“You will not be alone. We have men to train you. Your staff are loyal. They loved your father. We will look after you. We are your family. Your grief is our grief,” Mario says.
“We?”
“I am a part of the business, Enrico. It’s not all bad, and you will be surprised who Stefano has on his payroll.”
“Get out,” I sneer.
He stands and puts his hand on my shoulder. “In time, you will come to appreciate the choices your family before you have made. You are very fortunate to be a Ferrara.”
I stare straight ahead, unable to make eye contact with him.
“Suck it up. You have funerals to arrange. Do your fathers proud.” Mario stands, leaves, and the door closes quietly behind him.
My breath quivers on the inhale as I try to control my breathing.
Lorenzo pulls me into an embrace and holds me while tears of rage run down my cheeks.
My entire life has been a lie.
6
Olivia
Sorrento. What a magical place.
I smile as the sea breeze whips my hair, and I gaze over at the breathtaking view.
The cliff face is covered with beautifully colored old buildings, and at the bottom, a deep shade of turquoise blue, is the Tyrrhenian Sea.
Perched high up above, I’m standing on the balcony of my room at the iconic Grand Hotel Capodimonte.
The room has a timeless feel, like something you would see in an old Hollywood movie. There’s Terrazzo tiled floors, luxurious bedding and furniture, and big white windows that swing open so that you can gaze over at the priceless view.
Wow, Natalie really got this booking right. This is a lot better than the hotels I’ve been staying at. I should have got her to organize my entire trip. She got this for a steal too.
Natalie and I grew up in Sydney together. She lives in London now. I miss her desperately, even though we speak nearly every day on Facebook. Her flight arrives here in Sorrento this afternoon. This is our much-anticipated two-week holiday together. She couldn’t come for the entire time, but we swung it so she could meet me here for the remaining leg of my trip.
I take a seat on the balcony and smile to myself.
I can’t believe the weekend I just had.
I pick up my phone and scroll through the photos of Rico and I together when we were sightseeing in Rome.
I look so happy. My hair is tussled, I have no makeup on, and I look flushed. Enrico is laughing in every image. I run my finger over his face. What a beautiful specimen he is. It’s been a long time since I’ve been happy… really happy.
I’m twenty-seven, and I guess I’d kind of given up on men. Lately, I get more enjoyment out of a tub of chocolate ice cream. I was preparing myself to buy an apartment on my own—getting a cat and some potted plants. Work and the gym would probably be my only social life. I was easing myself into the next phase of my life, alone.
I wasn’t unhappy. I was just… existing.
As if sensing my despair, Natalie talked me into taking this trip and meeting her here.
I’m so glad I did.
Now, my hunger for adventure has been reignited. I want to travel and go to exotic places. I want to get that dream job I had given up on, and damn it, I want my very own dream man.
I’m a good girl. I deserve a good man.
What if he’s in Italy?
That’s drastic, even for a good man. Even for the best man.
Could I really give up my Australian home to live here?
I have my job that I love, and I don’t want to give that up. I worked too damn hard to get it. But then, I did always want to work with a fashion designer in some shape or form.
Apart from my job, I don’t really have anything holding me there. My social life is non-existent, my best friend lives on the other side of the world, and my parents are both dating imbeciles.
Ferrara’s marry for life.
Enrico’s words come back to me along with my goofy smile. Why do I smile like this every time I think of him?
I’m not going to get excited about it. We only spent three days together… but what an amazing three days they were.
In actual fact, these two weeks away from him is the worst possible timing ever. If only I could have spent the time with him instead.
Stop it, don’t get ahead of yourself. It was just one weekend.
I stand and take some photos of the beautiful view, and I send one to Enrico with the text:
Arrived safely.
Wish you were here.
Olivia.
I smile as I imagine him reading it. He’s probably at work now and won’t get it till later. I’m going to go for a swim in that beautiful pool down there.
I change into my bathers and grab my sunhat. I leave my room, looking for adventure.
Life is good. Really good.
“To us.” Natalie clicks her glass with mine as she beams happiness across the table.
“To us.” I giggle. “Can you believe we’re here?”
“No.” She grabs my hand. “It’s so good to see you, Liv. I miss you.”
“I know. Me, too.”
We’re on the large balcony of our hotel having dinner. After Nat’s flight, we thought we would take it easy tonight. The tables are lit with candles, and the cliff is alive with twinkling lights from the buildings. The sound of the ocean is loud as it crashes against the cliff face.
“So?” I cut into my chicken. “Tell me everything. How’s London?”
“Yeah, it’s good.” She chews her food. “The weather is atrocious, though.”
I’ve never been to London. “It’s just raining all the time? Every Aussie goes on about how bad the weather is over there.”
“It’s overcast every day. The sun is hardly ever out. It gets depressing after a while. I’m so used to eight hours of sunshine every day, all year long.”
“Well, it could be worse. Cold is better than hot as Hell, right?”
She laughs. “I guess.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Tell me about your trip.”
I smile proudly. “I met someone.”
“What?”
“In Rome.”
“And?”
“And we had the best sex of my life all weekend long.”
She puts her hands over her mouth. “You? Had sex with a stranger?”
I laugh at her shock. “Not just any stranger. God’s gift to women.”
“Fuck off.”
I laugh. “Yes.” I get out my phone, go to the photos, and pass it over to her. “His name is Enrico Ferrara.”
“Sounds so exotic.” Her eyes bulge as she sees the photos of him. “What the fuck?”
“Gorgeous, right?”
“Jesus.” She scrolls through the images. “Gorgeous doesn’t cut it.”
“He’s a policeman.”
She puts her hand on her heart. “Oh, please, it gets better.”
“And he took me to The Pantheon and told me he thinks our story isn’t over.”
She frowns as she listens.
“You know I have nothing holding me in Australia now.”
She holds up her hand. “Woah… slow down girl.”
“I know it sounds crazy—”
“Because it is. You don’t even know this guy.” She hands my phone back in disgust.
“Don’t wreck this for me by being all sensible.”
“Oh God, Liv.” She sighs. “Someone has to think clearly around here. It doesn’t sound like you are.” We eat in silence for a moment. “Sorry. I’m being a bitch. Tell me about your weekend with him.”
I smile sadly, hating that she’s not as excited as I am. “It was just really great, you know? We connected, and it wasn’t just because of the awesome sex.”
“The sex was awesome?”
I put my hands on my forehead and then fake an explosion in the air with my fingers. “Mind blowing.”
She smiles.
“And I’m not moving here, I’m…” I shrug and my voice trails off.
She watches me intently. “What?”
“My life is shit back home. I’m boring and comfortable and I’ve always done the safe things in life. Where has it got me until now?”
“This is true.” She sips her wine.
“Maybe this trip is to teach me about myself.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not getting all, Love, Eat, pray on me, are you?”
I giggle. “Maybe.”
“Maybe you should go to Bali, take up yoga and fuck the gorgeous guy in that movie like Julia did.”
I laugh. “My guy is better.”
Her eyes hold mine. “I’m just saying… be careful, that’s all.” She grabs my hand over the table. “I don’t want you to get all attached to and then hurt by a guy on the other side of the world who you think you know. Not all men are like your ex-boyfriends, Liv. This Enrico could be a huge player. Probably is if he looks like that.”
“I know.” I sigh, saddened by her reality check.
“Look.” She shrugs with a smile. “Actions speak louder than words and I could be completely wrong. Maybe he’s great and this could work out.”
“I’m not getting excited. I know what you’re saying is right. I’m going back to Rome to spend the weekend with him before I fly home, so I’ll see what happens then.”
She smiles broadly. “Good, take it slow. There’s no rush.”
“I am.”
“Has he called you today?”
“He’s working.” I rearrange my napkin on my lap. “I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”
I sip my wine as I try to act casual. Why hasn’t he called me back? An annoying little alarm bell goes off in the back of my brain. I was sure he would have called me back by now.
“So, what are we going to do tomorrow?” she asks.
I smile up at her. “Everything.”
Enrico
The red embers glow in the dark and a sporadic crack signifies the wood’s demise. I stare at the flames of the fire with my two brothers beside me.
Shocked, that’s what we are.
We’re heartbroken that our father and grandfather have left
us. We’re horrified at what we’ve found out about our family history. We don’t even know who we are anymore.
“Everything is a lie.” Matteo sighs sadly as he tips his head back and drains his beer.
“You must have known.” Andrea frowns as his eyes come to me accusingly. “How could you have not known? You’re a fucking cop, for Christ’s sake.”
“I heard whispers, but when I asked, I was told it was from jealousy—that people always think the worst of successful people. That all money must be bad, and the businesses were… are now all legitimate, except for a few gambling houses.”
We fall silent again, lost in our own thoughts.
I drag my hand down my face. I’m exhausted—too tired to think, and too tired to focus on anything other than how fucked up this all is.
Francesca, our sister, walks in and sit beside me. She’s beautiful, with long dark hair and porcelain skin. She’s much fairer than her brothers but with the same brown eyes. I put my arm around her and pull her close. “You okay, baby?”
“Not really.” Her tear-filled gaze falls to the fire.
I hold her close. “Where’s Mamma?”
“Inside.” Her eyes find mine. “Are we going to be all right, Rico… without Dad?”
My heart sinks and I hold her closer. “Of course, angel. I’ll make sure of it. You’re safe, I’ll look after us now. I’m here. Lean on me.”
She holds me as she cries, and I close my eyes to my own pain.
The four of us, the Ferrara children, sit around the fire, and we weep.
I sit at the table wearing my black suit. I’m waiting for my mother to get ready for her husband’s funeral.
The house is deadly silent.
When my father passed, he left a hole.
His jovial laughter is missing—his wise face, too. His deep voice and the way that he made everyone around him feel loved have gone.
His strength.
He’s deeply missed, and I am empty.
I have nothing left to offer. Grief is all I can see.
Lorenzo has stepped up and taken over for us. He’s caring for our family, easing our pain as much as he can.