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84. Raising the kids the wrong way.
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Living with the Enemy. 85. You are Grounded.
Deangelo.My heart was pounding against my chest as I struggled to control my anger. The image of my innocent little girl with some boy, who probably had no real feelings for her, kept playing in my mind. I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself, but my blood was boiling with rage. Suddenly, I heard the sound of the front door opening, and I knew that Mia and Andrew had returned. As the pair walked in, swinging their hands and laughing, my eyes locked onto Andrew, and I knew instantly that this was the boy who had captured my daughter's heart. I let out a rough laugh, causing the couple to stop in their tracks. The phone in my hand felt like a hot coal, burning through my fingers. I could feel the weight of my late wife's memory pressing down on me, and I wondered if I had failed her. My daughter's voice echoed in my mind, and I could not shake off the feeling that was losing her.Elena stepped forward, trying to calm me down, but I brushed her aside with a fierce look. I was to
Living with the Enemy. 86. Daughters and the hell they bring.
Deangelo. It had been two exhausting and agonizing days since the intense argument with my daughter, Mia. She had retreated to her room, shutting herself off from the world, refusing to eat or go to school. The weight of guilt and remorse crushed me, as I couldn't shake off the haunting image of her tear-stained face and heart-wrenching sobs. To clear my mind and find solace, I sought refuge in the fields, working alongside Luca, my loyal and trusted companion. He attempted to lighten the atmosphere with a lighthearted joke about facing our problems head-on instead of avoiding them. However, his attempt at humor only fueled my anger and bitterness, which were still smoldering within me. In a fit of rage, I lost control and grabbed Luca by the collar, forcefully pushing him away. It happened so abruptly and violently that Luca stumbled and fell to the ground, struggling to catch his breath. Standing over him, fists clenched, I battled to rein in my emotions and regain control. Looki
Living with the Enemy. 87. A passionate kiss.
Deangelo. I had been drinking a lot that night. I stumbled through the dark hallway, still feeling the effects of the wine I had been drinking with father earlier. I stumbled towards Mia's room, my steps unsteady and my mind hazy. I knocked on her door, calling out to her, but she refused to let me in. Her voice was muffled, but I could hear the anger and hurt in it. I knew that I had to find a way to talk to her, to make her understand. Mia's voice cut through the air, harsh and angry. "Go away!" she yelled from inside. Undeterred, I refused to give up. I walked around the house and peered up at the second-story window of Mia's room. True enough, she had forgotten to lock it. A small smile crept across my face as I climbed up onto the windowsill and pushed the window open. Mia whirled around when she heard the sound of the window sliding open. She grabbed a nearby stick and pointed it at me, demanding that I leave immediately. But I was not one to back down from a challenge. I la
Living with the Enemy. 88. Like Teenagers.
Elena. I have always been a practical and level-headed person, but the excitement I felt from my secret romance with Deangelo made me feel young and full of energy. It was like being in a thrilling spy movie, always looking for hidden spots where we could have some private time. At night, we would sneak around the house like teenagers, searching for quiet places where we could be alone without anyone noticing. Sometimes, it was the kitchen, where we would sit on the counter and kiss passionately, savoring the stolen moments. Other times, it was in Deangelo's study, surrounded by books and papers, where we would talk for hours, discussing everything and nothing at all. Those moments felt incredibly special, as if it was just the two of us in the whole world. I couldn't believe how much I enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around like a teenager, keeping our blossoming relationship with Deangelo hidden from the rest of the family. Every secret kiss we shared felt exhilarating, adding a se
Living with the Enemy. 89. Here to see Deangelo.
Sofia. My heart pounded as I approached the Ferrari residence. The anticipation of seeing Deangelo again after what felt like forever churned my stomach. This moment had been the culmination of days of planning and following Bruno's instructions meticulously. His men had even driven me as close to the compound as they could without arousing suspicion before dropping me off. Now, I was on my own. The Ferrari residence stood before me in all its grandeur. It was an enormous mansion with multiple wings and tall columns. It looked more like an estate than a mere house. The garden surrounding it was immaculately maintained, with rows of vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed shrubs. The entire property was enclosed by a high fence and guarded by formidable men. I felt tiny and insignificant in the face of such wealth and power. Taking a deep breath, I tried to gather my nerves. I reminded myself that I was doing this for Deangelo, for our love, and for our future together. Approaching the g
Living with the Enemy. 90. Sofia is back.
Elena. I watched nervously as Sofia stepped through the threshold of our house, her grip tight on a small, weathered suitcase. Memories of the past flooded my mind, reminding me of the trouble she had caused before. Sofia had always viewed me as a rival, even when all I wanted was to be her friend. And now, here she stood, returning to our home as if nothing had ever happened. As I greeted her with a forced smile, I couldn't help but notice her meticulously styled hair and perfectly manicured nails. It was as if she had stepped out of a fashion magazine, her appearance dazzling and polished. It struck me how effortlessly she carried herself, oozing confidence and an air of superiority. It was no wonder people were drawn to her. I cautiously offered to assist Sofia in getting settled into her new room, which was located in a secluded part of the house. Madam Beatrice, always the fashion enthusiast, had claimed Sofia's old room for her ever-growing collection of designer items. It see
Living with the Enemy. 91. Portraits of Elena.
Salvatore. As I stood in my study, completely enthralled by the breathtaking sunset, I could not help but be mesmerized by the stunning view before me. The sky was painted in a mesmerizing mix of colors, with hues of orange, pink, and purple blending together seamlessly. The sun itself was a fiery ball of orange, slowly sinking below the horizon. The rays of the sun shone directly into my study, casting a warm glow on my face. I could feel the heat of the sun on my skin, and I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation. In the distance, the majestic mountains stood proudly, their outlines clearly visible against the backdrop of the sunset. Even the trees in my garden seemed to come alive, their leaves rustling in the evening breeze while bathed in the sun's golden glow. But I could not continue to pay more heed to the picturesque scene. My attention was solely focused on Elena's portrait, which hung on the wall in front of me. It was a large, enlarged portrait, framed in an ornate gol
Living with the Enemy. 92. Her Favourite Ferrari.
Mia. The moment I entered Andrew's living room, the first thing that stroke me was the grand nature of the space. The ceiling was high and adorned with intricate crown molding, giving the room a sense of grandeur. The walls were painted a pale blue color, with large windows allowing plenty of natural light to flood the room. It was dotted with potted plants, adding a touch of nature and life to the otherwise sophisticated space. The curtains were made of a sheer white fabric, billowing gently in the breeze coming from the open windows. These are details that I was unable to very much notice the last time I came, due to his mother of course. While Andrew and I sat on the couch in the living room, I couldn't help but keep noticing how excited he was about my dad. He had been talking nonstop about how cool he was and how much he admired him. I couldn't blame him though, my dad was pretty amazing. He was a cool and handsome man according to the societal standards and also a huge footbal
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