Page 213 of The Italian


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“What about?” I stammer with wide eyes.

“You.” She takes my hand and leads me through the house.

“Me?” I gasp. “Did I do something wrong?”

“She’ll be okay,” she says as we start walking up the stairs.

“But what did I do?”

“It’s not you.”

“Then what?”

“Enrico.”

“Oh.” I exhale feeling a little mollified. I don’t care if she hates him, just not me.

We walk down the luxurious corridor and she takes me into her room. It’s cream and pinks with a chandelier and fireplace. It’s huge. “Wow.” I smile as I look around in wonder. “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She hunches her shoulders as if excited. “We just had it redone.”

There is artwork on the walls and the carpet is lush underfoot. The color pallet is so unusual but somehow it all works perfectly. The king bed is white and four posted with a white netting. “Did you pick the furnishings?”

She nods. “Everything.”

“Wow.” It really is incredible, in fact, the most beautiful room I have seen since I’ve been in Italy. “You have impeccable taste.”

“I’m hoping to major in interior design.” She shrugs bashfully. “That’s if I get in.”

“Incredible?” I smile. “Wow, this is amazing.” Finally, a Ferrara who wants to be something other than the mob. “Do you think you would be able to help me with the interior of the Lake Como house?”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, it’s so stuffy and boring.” I shrug, embarrassed that I just said that out loud. “Not that I’m ungrateful or anything.”

“I would love to. I could come over tomorrow if that suits,” she asks hopefully.

“That would be fantastic.”

Francesca smiles and I feel hope bloom in my chest, I don’t have a sister. It will be so great getting to know her.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

“Sure.” For half an hour Francesca shows me through her home and I’m utterly impressed. This place is something else. Grand like the Lake Como house but in a stuffier way.

It feels more like a museum than a house.

“Olivia,” Enrico’s deep voice calls from downstairs. “Are you ready, my love?”

I frown to Francesca. “Are we going already?”

She shrugs as if puzzled. “Maybe.”

We walk down the stairs to find Bianca and Enrico standing at the bottom in the foyer.

Enrico holds his hand out for me. “Come, we have to go.”

“Oh.” I smile as my eyes flick to Bianca. “It was lovely meeting you.”

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