“Leave my father out of this,” I snap.
He glares at me, unimpressed that I interrupted him. “Your father’s name wasn’t Linden. His real name was Giuliano Ferrara.”
“What?”
Lorenzo and the other men exchange worried looks.
“It’s a very complicated story.” He pauses as if searching for the right wording. “Giuliano, your father lived a double life—one with your mother and you and one with his wife and their four children.”
I frown as his words sink in.
How could that be?
“What? That’s ridiculous!” I scoff. “He wasn’t married to someone else. You have the wrong man; he and my mother were married.”
“We don’t. These are your two brothers, Giuliano.” He gestures to the two men and they nod in a sad acknowledgement. “Andrea and Matteo, I’m sorry that you had to meet under these circumstances.”
My eyes flicker between the three of them. “You’re lying.” I stand abruptly.
Lorenzo stands too, he pushes me back into the chair. “Your oldest brother was murdered; his name was Enrico Ferrara.”
My eyes widen as I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.
The floor moves beneath me.
“You have been left in your father’s will to take over management of the Ferrara family empire.”
My face falls.
“It’s okay,” Andrea says softly. “You won’t be alone, Giuliano.”
“We will be here every step of the way to train you and to help you with the transition,” Lorenzo says.
I stare at him as the walls close in.
She’s my sister.
I drop my head as the sound of my heartbeat rings loud and hard in my chest.
No….
Through my daze I see that Lorenzo leaves the room and then returns with a man. “This is Mario,” he introduces him. “He is our lawyer, he will explain things in greater detail.”
Huh?
I’m so confused.
“Hello, Giuliano,” Mario says as he puts his hand out to shake mine. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
I shake his hand as my manners take over. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Mario takes out a large leather box and opens it, it has a folder inside. “Your father has left a very specific and detailed will, in the event of his and then…Enrico’s death.”
I stare at him.
“You have been left the entirety of the Ferrara businesses.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You own everything now.”
“Like what?” I screw up my face. “What are the Ferrara businesses?”
Mario begins to read from the folder, “Ferrara Sports Cars valued at nine billion euros. The Flamingo Bell Football League side and the four football stadiums.”
What?
“Seventy-six million euros worth of real estate.” He slides his finger over the assets as he reads them out loud. “Five hundred and eighty-three high-class brothels. One hundred and twenty-six VIP strip clubs. Nine casinos worldwide, valued at an estimated fourteen billion euros.”
I slump back in my chair. “I don’t understand. How in the fuck did my father own all this without me knowing?”
Mario exhales and takes his glasses off. “Son….” He pauses as if choosing his words. “You have been kept out of the family business on purpose, but in the event of Enrico’s death, it has been decided that you will take over and lead.”
My eyes flick to the two men sitting in the room listening.
“I don’t…. I mean.” I gesture to them. “Why…what do you mean?” I’m tripping over my words as I try to make sense of all of this.
“Enrico was to tell you this when you turned twenty-one, he was going to train you up and have you working alongside of him. As it turns out our hand has been forced to bring that forward.”
I blink, shocked. “Did he know about me?”
“Yes.”
“How long for?”
“He found out about you when his father died.”
“He wasn’t happy…” I mutter under my breath, of course he wasn’t.
“Why hasn’t it gone to either of you?” I ask the boys.
“Your father wanted it to go straight to you,” Andrea replies.
“And you’re okay with this?” I snap.
They both give a shrug. “It was his wishes.”
I stare at them, and they’re just going to take that sitting down?
Wimps.
“Your father always said that only his oldest and youngest son were born for this role. Enrico…and now, you.”
I drop my head as the room spins once more, I stay silent as I try to process everything.
I can’t even begin to, it’s impossible.
“You have four thousand staff and another twelve hundred personal staff.”
“What for?” I spit. “What on earth would anyone need twelve hundred personal staff for?”
Mario and Lorenzo exchange looks.
I snap as I lose my patience. “Explain this to me, now.”
Mario exhales heavily. “The Ferrara family has run Italy, the good and the bad, for many generations.”
Criminals.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.
“Not all Ferrara businesses are reputable. Stefano, your grandfather….”
Grandfather.
I had a grandfather? I was told he died before I was born.
Everything is a lie, my stomach rolls with nausea.
“Stefano built an empire, and because he died on the same day as your father, Enrico learned of the business this way too.”
“He didn’t know?” I gasp.
“No, he and his brothers, like you, were kept in the dark. Your father wanted you all to have a normal childhood, a privilege he wasn’t offered.”
“How the fuck could I have a normal childhood when he had another wife and family?” I spit. “I don’t want anything to do with this. You’re lying and none of this is true and if it is, I hate him.” I look around the room and stand abruptly. “And I hate all of you.” Adrenaline is pumping hard through my veins. “I’m going home. Stay the fuck away from me.”
Lorenzo stands and pushes me back into my chair, I fall hard back into my seat. “I know this is a lot to take in, Giuliano and with your personality it won’t be easy to conform with family tradition.”
“Because it isn’t my family,” I yell. “Stop fucking lying!”
“We are all here, at your service. You have your brothers’ full support and in time, you will learn to lead as your father wanted.”
I stand and march from the office, Alex and Valentino immediately stand. “We’re leaving,” I snap as I storm past them.
“Not without security,” Lorenzo calls from behind me.
I turn toward him, infuriated. “Fuck your security.”
“Who do you think murdered your brother, Giuliano?” Lorenzo bellows.
I struggle for air as adrenaline courses through my veins, I’ve never been so angry.
“You are now a marked man,” he cries. “You have two choices. Learn to lead us into the next generation. Or be the next murdered Ferrara, because trust me, they will come for you.”