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“I have heard a lot about you, it’s nice to put the name with a face.” I smile at her accent which is thicker than Luca’s.
“I hear an accent, where are you from?” she asks softly.
“Mexico.”
“Ah, the land of the cartel.” I stand there awkwardly.
Of course, she brings that up...
“Mama, she isn’t in any way affiliated with the cartel.”
GREAT. Kill me now.
I laugh, trying to soothe the tension. What a way to generalize a whole country, even though I am one of the few people you’ll meet who is affiliated. But that doesn’t mean Mexicans everywhere have anything to do with it.
“Most Mexicans aren’t a part of the cartel, just like most Italians aren’t a part of the mafia. Mexico is known for many things, even though most people think of drugs and organized crime first. That doesn’t mean there aren’t other things my country offers,” I say calmly, so I don’t sound rude or snappy.
“I like her,” she says to her son before walking towards the rest of the house. He looks at me before following his mother. I trail after him.
Everything is nude all around me. They must like neutrals because that’s all I see.
“I am sure Luca will give you a tour around. After all, he is the most informed about the history of the estate. I will see you both later for dinner.” She gives us a short smile and walks away.
“Do you want the tour, or would you rather go up to your room and rest before a very long and dreadful dinner?”
“I think I’ll have the tour. After all, you are the most informed.”
“Be nice or I won’t tell you about the most interesting parts.” I gasp, putting my hand over my heart. “That would be a crime.”
“This house was built as the symbol of my family. It has been with us for generations. My great-grandparents didn’t like the extravagant ambiance that was prevalent in Italian houses at the time. They wanted a modern approach for theirs.” He walks through the living room and into the gardens.
“Even though things have been renovated, the estate has never lost what they truly saw in it. The view is what sold it for them.”
We make our way past all the trees and make it to a gazebo featuring the same marble from the interior of the house. I stand there in awe. I can see the entirety of Florence from up here. The appeal is very apparent. His family has taste, I won’t deny that.
“That Basilica you see up ahead is the trademark of Florence. Catedral de Santa María del Fiore was built by the Medici Family. We can go see it if you would like.”
“I’d love to.” He nods at me.
“The gardens are simple, mybisnonnaloved botany. Her husband would do anything for her. So, he made her the perfect garden”
The greenery is different to the garden we have in Sinaloa. Ours stretches over acres of land. This one, in particular, has trees on both sides and a large flower shrine in the middle. Every flower and plant you could think of sits in buckets of soil.
“My family makes wine because of her. My great-grandfather started it all because she loved the outdoors so much that he wanted to dedicate his profession to something she loved. We have many wineries across Italy, each with a huge amount of property on top that doubles all the money we make. The family imports and exports all over the country as well as internationally.”
I stop in front of the same statue that I saw in the entrance, but this time it’s the full body version. I can feel him closing in behind me.
“I see you have taken a liking to the statue that defined mybisnonnislife. This is a custom statue of Aphrodite, the Ancient Greek goddess of beauty. My great grandfather would always call his wife “goddess” because that’s how he saw her. I’ve never heard of a love story where two people were so in love.” He takes a strand of my hair and places it over my shoulder softly. This man really wants me to have a heart attack. “That type of love is what I aspire to have some day,” I say abruptly.
“That type of love is rare.”
“But not impossible,” I correct him.
We just stand there for a while, taking in the statue with a clear sense of tension between us. The hand that he touched my hair with is now lightly caressing my back and shoulders. I feel chills all throughout my body. He walks up close to my ear. I can feel his breath on my skin. I shiver.
“We should go inside,” he mutters and walks away, too fast for my liking. I follow behind him leisurely as I take in the gardens.
He stands at the top of the steps that lead to the garden, waiting for me to catch up. Finally meeting him there, he looks up and I follow his gaze.
