"What might have been going through her mind? Did she think no one would catch on? It happened in broad daylight, after all. If her aim was to go unnoticed, arriving by the side of the restaurant was an odd choice."Which brings me to the question: Who was that?"“Just a friend.”“Come on, Mom, be honest. Your expression tells a different story.”“How do I express this without causing more hurt?” she inquiries.“My feelings can't be more hurt than they already are.”"It's your father, Fabio Matteo.""Are you now romantically involved with him?" I ask, disbelief evident in my voice."What? No! You think so little of me.""I’m sorry, and he's not my father. He explicitly stated that. What does he want now? Mother?” I inquire, detecting her hesitation.“He wants you.”I halt in my tracks, bursting into uncontrollable laughter.“He's dying and wishes to see you.”"Doctors and artists share no common ground. Also, unless the angels whispered some new revelations to him about our connection
"What is this I hear from Isabella that you haven't been sleeping at home for three days now, and yet you are still within the four walls of Tuscany,” Father declares, storming into my office with visibly bulging veins on his head.“Good morning Mr Lorenzo.” Heather greets. “Heather, please leave us,” I announce dismissing my personal assistant.He fixes a stern gaze on me, demanding an answer despite Heather's presence in the room."Good morning, Father.""Marco, there's nothing good about the morning. Are you attempting to put us in Alessandro's disfavor, knowing full well that Isabella is practically the air he breathes?""No, Father. It's just that she has moved her things into the house and now lives there, and we aren't even married yet.""And so? This is merely a weak excuse! The woman in question will soon be your wife. If not for your recent divorce, you both would have been married like yesterday.""Father, I'm not in love with Isabella.""Love?" he chuckles, the sound reso
“Valentina, your father may and may not have sent a convoy to come get you.”“You don't mean it.” I say taking one last look at myself. “Come see for yourself.”I peep out the window to see mother wasn't lying. A knock on the door draws our attention.“Go check, while I quickly thrown on a robe. I'll join you shortly.” mother informs.“Good morning Miss Matteo.” An elderly man greets.Miss Matteo??“Good morning.”“I'm Alberto, Mr Matteo’s chief of security.”“Hi, Mr Alberto. It's nice to meet you.”“Please call me Alberto.”Mother appears just in time.“Good morning Sofi.” he greets smiling warmly.“Good morning Alberto, you've met my daughter in person.”“Yes I have, a splitting image of you but the red hair sure comes from madame Rosemarie.”“Yeah. Take good care of my princess.”“I sure will. You can trust she's in good hands.”“No doubt. Drive safe.”Am I the only one picking up on the suspicious vibes between Mother and Alberto, Sofi? Really? I can't wait to return and uncover
"I never thought the old man was serious. It's been a whole week, and your accounts are still frozen. What are you going to do?" Giovanni asks. "I just want to go home and have all these shenanigans come to an end. I'm exhausted especially with you having to cover my bills, and I sincerely appreciate you getting back the painting.""No worries here. Feel free to stay as long as necessary. I'm more than willing to lend you some funds to kickstart your own business and put aside those people, preventing them from causing more damage to your life. And as for the art, it's the least I can offer.""I can't bear the thought of starting from scratch. It's just too much. And the people you talk about with such disdain are my parents.""Then let them act like parents. Even adopted children aren't treated as poorly, let alone in this heart-wrenching way."I stay quiet, debating whether to disclose my connection to the Lorenzos."Wait, you aren't adopted, right?" Giovanni inquires, attempting t
A night spent in my father's company stretches into days, and I find immense joy in every moment. Despite my deep affection for this place, my mother's absence is keenly felt. A proud daughter moment unfolded when he introduced me as his daughter to the entire staff during a meeting. The sense of acknowledgement and familial connection in that public declaration gave me butterflies.On the other hand, James has become a reassuring presence over the phone, especially on days when my father's frailty confines him to his room. I sense a growing comfort in my interactions with James.These passing days weigh on me, serving as a poignant reminder of my father's limited time on this earth due to the relentless grip of cancer—a cruel affliction I wouldn't wish upon even my worst enemy.After a tour of my father’s extensive residence, I must emphasize the sheer enormity of the home. The studio and a courtyard stood out prominently. The courtyard, in particular, boasts a striking feature—an aq
Our home, once vibrant, now cloaked in grief, welcomes the imposing presence of Madame Rosemarie. Draped in a sophisticated black outfit that resonates with mourning, she gracefully emerges from the tinted Rolls Royce. As we meet Madame Rosemarie in person for the first time, the somber atmosphere amplifies, enveloping us in the weight of the prevailing sadness."Come here, my dear child. I'm sorry fate led you to meet your father so close to his passing, especially under these sad circumstances.""Condolences for your loss, Madame Rosemarie.""Nonsense. Call me Grandma. We knew this day would inevitably arrive. How are you holding up? Your eyes reveal it all," she remarks, striving to exude strength."I understand you're hurting too. Should you need a shoulder to lean on, Nonna.""Thank you, child," she responds, delicately wiping her eyes."Good day, Madame Rosemarie,"Alberto greets her."Son, how are the preparations for the funeral progressing?""All arrangements have been made, a
As I stretch, a peculiar pressure nudges my stomach. Blinking away sleep, I slowly assimilate to the room’s brightness. It dawns on me that Nonna and I fell asleep in the studio. Taking care not to disturb Nonna, I delicately lift the frame that had been poking at my stomach earlier.Nonna moves, her eyes trying to adjust to the brightness.“We slept off in the studio?” she asks, adjusting her clothes.“Yes, after balling our eyes.”“What’s the time?” she asks.A soft knock comes from the door.“Come in,” she urges.“Good morning, Madame Rosemarie, ma’am Valentina. Didn’t know you slept in the studio. Looking for the two of you after the burial yesterday, I heard whimpers down here and decided to give you both your space. Unknown to me, you would sleep off. Please forgive me. It won’t repeat itself.”“Alberto, take a break. We all need it.”“I’m sorry I can’t, ma’am, as it is my duty to oversee things here and ensure security and safety. Mr. Aiden and Mr. Thomas have arrived.”“Alread
"You arrived just in time. Your father was about to call you," Mother announces as Yusuf, their butler, ushers me in."What's going on?" I ask, unbothered."You've probably heard the news, seen it on blogs; it's practically everywhere.""What's the matter, Mother? Your over-excitement worries me.""Your wife is Fabio’s daughter. My friend witnessed the announcement when she went to his burial day before yesterday, and they announced it officially in the news," she says in a rushed excitement."Both you and father need to relax! Where is he, by the way? Isabella and I aren't married and won't be tying the knot anytime soon. But good for her. Father would be thrilled.""Who said anything about Isabella? Right now, your father is actively working on reuniting you and Valentina," she reveals.I hold mother gently, hoping this isn't some form of dementia manifesting. She swats my hand, making me more worried."I'm glad you're here. I was about to call you.""Explain, Leonardo. He seems not