The Italian

by T L Swan

  I smirk at her. I would literally walk through fire to make her happy.

  “That’s better.”

  She kisses me one last time. “I’ll send Lorenzo in.”

  “How are you getting back to the office?”

  “Maso is going to take me.”

  “Have a nice afternoon.”

  “I’ll be counting the hours until I see you.” She blows me a kiss.

  I smile, her playfulness is contagious. “Get out of here, troublemaker, before you get yourself into real trouble.” I tap the desk in front of me with my open palm.

  “I wish.” She gives me a sexy wink and disappears out of the door.

  I turn back to my computer, and there’s a knock on the door.

  “Come in!” I call.

  Lorenzo comes into view, and emotion fills me.

  “Hello, Enrico,” he says with caution.

  I point to the chair at my desk, and he closes the door behind him. He walks in and takes a seat. We stare at each other. His eyes are sad.

  Out of everyone I know, Lorenzo is someone I never thought would lie to me.

  “Enrico. I know you feel betrayed.”

  I drop my head and stare at a random mark on my desk.

  “Your father wanted you protected. We only followed his wishes.”

  I stay silent.

  “This has all been a shock for you, and I understand that you’re angry. I know that you don’t like how this has come to light, but believe me, your father grew up with no secrets kept from him. He knew too much from a young age—too young. He battled through his childhood every day, and he despised his father for it. He didn’t want that for you.”

  My eyes rise to meet his. “So, you lied to me?”

  “We protected you. There’s a big difference.” A frown crosses his face. “And I stand by that decision.” His jaw ticks. “One day, you will look back and understand that you wouldn’t be the honorable man you now are if things had been different. If you knew then what you know now, it would have changed the way you saw the world. Your childhood was happy, and you were well adjusted. That was all your father ever wanted.”

  My breath quivers on the inhale.

  “I will resign, if that’s what you want.” His eyes search mine. “But there is one thing you will have to do for me first.”

  “What?”

  “You have to come and meet Angelina.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Enrico,” his voice sharpens. “You are thirty-three years old and look how upset you are over this. Giuliano is going to find this out when he is only twenty-one. He is the child of a mistress. His whole world will crumble. Every single thing the thinks he knows is a lie… even his name. His father isn’t the man he knew. He is your baby brother, Enrico. Whether you like it or not, you have to look after him. He is the true victim in this story. Him and his beautiful mother Angelina.”

  “Did you know her?” I whisper.

  “Yes.”

  I frown.

  “She’s an incredible person, Enrico, and she deserves our respect. Stop looking at this like you’re a hurt child, and begin thinking of it as a man who needs to step up and protect his family.”

  “She’s not my family.”

  “Whether you like it or not, she is.” He shakes his head. “She is a Ferrara. Maybe not by marriage, but most definitely by heart. She bleeds your father’s blood, and he bled hers.”

  I drop my head.

  “She gave up her entire life to be with him. She has been nothing but respectful and loving… even to your mother.”

  I frown as my eyes rise to meet his. “They know each other?”

  “Of course, they know each other. They’re friends—part of a family. It’s not ideal, but they made it work. We all did.” He stands and holds his hand out to me. “Come.”

  “Where to?’

  “I’m taking you to Angelina. I don’t care if you fire me, but as my promise to your father, you will meet your other family—the ones you didn’t know.”

  The car pulls up to the gates of the house in Lake Como.

  “Thank you,” Lorenzo says from his place behind the wheel.

  The guards look into the car and see me in the passenger seat. Their eyes widen, and they all stand back, granting us access.

  “I thought the guards were taken off this house,” I say as we drive through the gates.

  “Your mother demanded they stay. She wanted them to remain safe. She’s concerned for their wellbeing.”

  I begin to pale as another piece of my reality becomes lost.

  The car pulls to a stop, and Lorenzo turns to me. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

  I stare straight ahead. “No. I have to do this alone.”

  I get out of the car and walk up to the front door to ring the bell. I can hear the blood thumping throughout my body as the rest of the world seems to stop.

  The door opens and Angelina stands before me. She’s blonde and beautiful. “Hello, Enrico.” She smiles sadly.

  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.”

  “Thanks.” She smiles. “You, too. How’s it going with Mr. Italy?”

  “Good. Great, actually.” I smile back at her. “He’s so fucking beautiful, Nat.”

  “Liv, just be careful. This guy broke you twice already.”

  “I know, but it’s different now.”

  Her eyes hold mine. “Have you met his family?”

  “No.”

  She rolls her lips, unimpressed.

  “Only because it’s been hectic. He’s had so much on, and there are people in the fucking house all the time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s security, drivers, cooks, and house maintenance. I’m lucky to get him alone for two minutes. If we do, we go to bed and end up fucking all night and I forget everything I wanted to talk about.”

  She gives an over exaggerated eye roll. “Oh, poor you, cooks and cleaners and a sex god. Sounds woeful,” she mutters dryly. “How do you cope?”

  I smirk. “When you put it like that.”

  She raises her glass and we clink them. “To Italians.” She smirks.

  “To Italians,” I repeat with a giggle. My phone vibrates on the table, and the name Rici lights up the screen. “Hello,” I answer.

  “Hello, my bella,” his deep voice purrs down the phone.

  A goofy grin erupts at the sound of his voice. “Hi,” I breathe.

  Natalie rolls her eyes at me.

  “We are just coming out of the offices now. I’ll be there in five minutes,” he says.

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  He hangs up.

  “Look at you,” Natalie sighs. “You’re like all starry-eyed when you speak to him.”

  I smile as I drain my glass. “He’s the one, Nat. I’ll bet my life on it. I’m marrying him.”

  “Oh, Jesus. Just calm down for two minutes. It’s, like, week six.”

  “I know, but sometimes you just know these things. I have to go. Are you coming to the gym with me in the morning?”

  “What time you going?”

  “Seven—seven thirtyish.”

  “I can’t, I’m starting at eight.”

  “I’m so excited you got the job.”

  Her eyes widen. “Can you believe it? Me! A personal assistant to a judge.”

  “So, you’re going to wear what we talked about? The black suit.”

  “Yes.” She scrambles around under the table and finds the plastic bag. “Thanks for the shoes. I’ll give them back as soon as I have time to buy some new ones.”

  “It’s a pleasure loaning you sensible work heels so you can look hot for your new boss.”

  She giggles. “Oh my God, you should see this guy.”

  “I can’t wait to.” I glance up and see Maso on the phone. His eyes meet mine across the bar, and I know Enrico is here. “Got to go.” I give my friend a hug and a kiss, and make my way out of the bar.

  Maso and Marley fall in beside me. We walk out and see the black Mercedes wagon parked in the loading bay. Maso opens the back door, and there he sits. My man is wearing a navy suit and a white shirt. With his black, curly hair, and the most perfect chiseled jawline in all of history, it’s a sight to behold. His big brown eyes meet mine.

  “Hello, my darling,” he says softly.

  My heart stops…knowing that I am the only person who gets this side of him.

  Enrico Ferrara hates most of the world…but he loves me.

  With all of his heart, he loves me.

  I have to stop myself from diving across the seat to him. “Hi.” I get into the car and shimmy across the back seat to kiss him softly. He glances at the rearview mirror, reminding me we are not alone. Annoyed, I go back to my seat and put my seatbelt on. He smiles and his eyes linger on my face. He picks up my hand and kisses the back of it as the car pulls out into the traffic.

  “How is your friend?” he asks.

  “Good,” I breathe. I’ve missed him today. “How was your day?”

  “Average.” He gives me a slow sexy smile. “Better now.”

  My eyes search his. I try to send him a telepathic message telling him how much I’ve missed him. I wish these damn men in the front seat weren’t with us all the time.

  “Me, too,” he whispers.

  My heart somersaults. He understood what I wanted to tell him. I put my head back onto the headrest and smile dreamily.

  With our entwined hands resting on his thigh, we drive through the night, back to Lake Como.

  He falls silent as he stares out the window, deep in thought. I watch him. What was it like to grow up in these conditions? To never have the freedom to say what you want, when you want. My thoughts go to his mother. She would have been guarded around the clock, too. How did she feel when her husband left her to go another woman? I mean, it’s bad enough that she knew where he was, but to have all these spectators bear witness to it must have only magnified the horror.

  God…. I feel sorry for her. That poor, poor woman.

  Everyone says that Enrico is the vision of his father—like him in personality, too. I can’t imagine loving him like I do, while he loved another. To have him leave me every week to go to her would remove a piece of my heart every time he left.

  It seems like the slowest, cruelest form of torture.

  “Aye, aye, what’s this?” Maso asks.

  Lights flash on the road ahead, and we look up to see a man with an orange roadworks flag pulling cars over. He directs us to pull to the side, and the men in the front all shuffle about in their jackets.

  Enrico immediately bends and rustles around under the seat. He takes a gun out and tucks it into his suit jacket.

  My eyes widen. What the fuck? What’s he doing?

  Is something happening right now?

  I hold my breath as my heart begins t
o thump hard in my chest.

  The man comes up to the window, and Maso smiles casually as he winds it down. “Buonasera, agente.” Translation: good evening, officer.

  The policeman nods and looks into the car with a torch. He shines it in everyone’s faces.

  “Qual è il problema?” Maso asks. Translation: what seems to be the problem?

  “Ha un documento d’identità?” Translation: do you have identification?

  Maso takes his license out and passes it over. The policeman studies it.

  “Apra il bagagliaio.” Translation: open the trunk.

  Maso motions to open his door.

  “Rimanga dentro la macchina.” Translation: stay inside the car.

  Another policeman comes over, and they look through the trunk together while we all remain silent.

  “Dove sta andando?” the officer asks. Translation: where are you going?

  “Riportando a casa il signor Ferrara. Sono la sua guardia del corpo.” Translation: driving Mr. Ferrara home. I am his security.

  The policeman’s face falls and he looks into the backseat with his torch. He immediately bows his head.

  “Mi scusi, signor Ferrara. Buonanotte, signore.” Translation: my apologies, Mr Ferrara. Have a nice night, sir.

  “Cosa state cercando?” Enrico asks. Translation: what are you looking for?

  “Abbiamo un evaso che si ritiene stia fuggendo in questa direzione. Fate attenzione stanotte.” Translation: we have a prison escapee who is believed to be heading this way. Be careful tonight.

  He hands Maso’s license back to him and waves his flag. We pull back out into the traffic. Enrico and the men continue on as if nothing has happened.

  I stare out the window into the darkness with my heart hammering in my chest. He has a gun. He has a fucking gun in his car. They all have them.

  Who do they think is coming for them?

  And why are they all so fucking prepared for it?

  For the rest of the trip, I pretend to sleep. My mind, however, is anything but relaxed. I just saw it with my own eyes, as casual as casual can be. The crime. It’s still alive and well.

  They honestly believe that someone is coming for Enrico.

  They thought it was an ambush, and they were armed and ready. They were calm, cool, and collected. Fear is filtering through my bloodstream. Who would want my man harmed, and what the actual fuck is going on around here?