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"Vaffanculo," I hiss.
He merely laughs at me. My insults mean nothing to this man. All he cares about is his payday.
Well, I'm sure as hell not going to change his mind by being a little brat about the whole thing. I force myself to calm down, taking deep breaths until my head has finally cleared.
I turn my back to Bruno and attack the documents with new-found determination. This is what nonna would have wanted. She'd never allow this to happen, but here's my chance to make things right and honor her memory. And that's exactly what I spend the day doing.
Bernardi has to remind me it's past lunchtime, and only then, do I notice I've worked up quite the appetite.
Bruno seems grumpy as he sends me off to my room to eat alone.
I see he takes lunch in his office and it makes me wonder whether I'll ever be allowed to stay and eat with him.
After promising to return the next day, I retreat to my bedroom. I eat a light meal that feels unsettling in my stomach. I pace the room listlessly, my eyes dancing over things they don't see, my mind spinning around problems with no solutions. I find myself eager to paint again.
This time, I pick Bruno Bernardi as my subject. I do some quick pencil sketches, giving special attention to one of father and son. Adrian stands behind Bruno with his strong, capable palm on his tired-looking father's shoulder. I know they aren't biologically related and yet, I can't help but see the similarities between them.
Adrian is just as stubborn, just as hard working as Bruno. He has his own morals, and his own idea of what's right and wrong, but he stays true to his moral code. Spending time with Bruno is only making me realize how much I want Adrian. How desperate I am for his attention, and how hurt I've been since I found out about Nicoletta. Since Adrian abandoned me...
Groaning, I lie down on my bed as my mind races around the same subject again and again. I wonder whether he's still with her, with Nicoletta. I wonder what they're talking about. Whether she makes fun of me and he allows it. Biting my lower lip, I realize I'm on the verge of tears. I don't want to cry about Adrian anymore. I want to be as happy as I can be in this new world where I'm completely alone. I want to save Da Costa grappa.
I want to make my nonna proud of the woman I've grown up to be.
23
Adrian
I know I have to stay away from Marzia until I figure out how to explain everything to her. It hurts, pulling away from her like this, but I know I don't have a choice.
I need to get the fuck out of marrying Nicoletta. However, at the same time, I promised Father I would spend more time with her to strengthen our bond with the Carluccis. That morning, I agree to meet Nicoletta in the gardens of the Mansion to show her around our future home. Of course, I still don't want her living here with me. However, I don't have a choice. At least not at the moment.
"Hello," Nicoletta says huskily as she sees me enter the garden.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"No." She smiles, offering me her arm. "Will you show me around?"
I nod, reluctantly allowing her to link her arm with mine. I glance toward the windows or Marzia's room, wondering whether she can see this. The thought of how betrayed she must feel if she does makes my cock hard, and I shake my head to get the forbidden thoughts off my mind before Nicoletta notices something's amiss.
"How long have you lived here? I heard you were adopted."
I glance at the stunning blonde, realizing she's much braver than the meek girl I thought she was. There's a twinkle in Nicoletta's eyes and I know she's eager to find out more about me, which only makes me feel like a bigger asshole.
"A long time," I mutter, avoiding the answer. "How do you like the mansion?"
"It's beautiful," she says, giving me a sideways glance. "Although, I don't know if I had bad dreams last night, or this place is haunted."
"Haunted?" I smirk. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, I heard a horrible noise in the middle of the night, like wood breaking... but today, there was no sight of it anywhere."
I know exactly what she heard but I'm not about to expose myself as the culprit for her fear. Instead, I just smile politely, showing off the olive garden as we round the corner. "What do you miss most about home?" I end up asking Nicoletta.
Instantly, a flash of pain crosses her face, and she quickly covers it up as if afraid I'll tell someone about it. "My father—he—when I left, he wouldn't let me keep my kittens," Nicoletta whispers, "I wanted to bring at least one here, but he wouldn't allow it."
