When I was seventeen and visiting an aunt, I met an English girl in Lake Como who was an exchange student. Her name was Angelina Linden, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We talked, and I convinced her to let me take her on a date. One turned into two, two turned into three.
I fell hopelessly in love with her. We spent two wonderful years together in Lake Como, and when she had to return to England, I ran away to go to her. I couldn’t stand the thought of a life without her in it.
My family were appalled. I was promised to another. Many financial deals had been negotiated from this arranged marriage. Stefano, my father, came to London and made me return to Italy without my beloved Angelina.
It broke my heart. I never thought I would recover.
“Is this…your mother?” I screw up my face. “I’m so confused.”
“Keep reading,” he snaps.
I focus back on the letter.
Your mother and I began the courting process and I told her that I loved another. We spoke often of Angelina. There were no secrets between us. She was a dear friend who helped me through the process. In fear that I would run away again, the marriage was brought forward and your mother and I exchanged our wedding vows. By this time, we were close friends and I began to have feelings for her. Not the same as my feelings for Angelina, but feelings all the same.
Your mother is the most beautiful, selfless person I have ever met. I adore her with every sense of my being. Over the next four years, we had three beautiful sons together. We traveled along and I was comfortable…but there was a part of me missing.
I close my eyes.
Oh God.
I don’t think I can read on. After a moment, I force myself to.
I went to France for business. You can imagine my shock to run into my Angelina, who was there for business also.
In the ultimate act of betrayal, I spent a week in Angelina’s arms and fell deeply in love with her again.
This time, there was no end in sight. I knew I couldn’t live without her.
I returned home and told your mother everything. I asked her for a divorce, which she declined. She wanted me to be with her for our children’s sake. She wanted the security of having me at home. Your mother didn’t want me to leave her completely. She put forward the idea of Angelina moving to Lake Como, and that I live between the two houses. At first, I declined. It wasn’t fair to either woman. But my heart was with Angelina, and I couldn’t leave your mother with three small children alone.
Finally, it was agreed on. I would become your mother’s companion. I moved into the spare room of our family home. Your mother and I became just friends, and Angelina became my partner.
For many, many years, the three of us were happy with this arrangement. Your mother had my support and devotion, and I got to live with my sons as they grew. Angelina always had my full heart. But Angelina was missing a part of her life. At the age of thirty-two and running out of time, she wanted a child.
I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears as I read on.
My haunted eyes rise to meet Giuliano, a tear rolls down my face and then drops onto the letter in front of me, I blink to try to focus on the familiar handwriting.
No.
I wanted to give Angelina a family of her own. She had given up her whole life and family to be with me. To have half of me.
Angelina’s family disowned her when they found out she had moved to Italy to be a married man’s mistress. When I wasn’t with her in Lake Como, she was completely alone.
It was a heavy burden to carry for her, and yet her devotion to me never wavered…not once.
She paid the ultimate price for my love: her dignity.
I loved her desperately, Enrico, please understand that this was not something that was created out of lust. I am a bigger man than that. I couldn’t fight my love for her.
I tried. For six years, I tried.
It only got worse with time, not better.
I agreed that she could have a child, and a year later, Angelina became pregnant. For the first time in my marriage, your mother was furious—crazy like I had never seen her before. She wanted to have my only children and she didn’t speak to me for three months. We fought. She showed me a side of her I hadn’t seen before. Heartbroken, I worked desperately hard to get my best friend back. I missed her. I missed your mother’s love, and then the unthinkable happened. For the first time ever, I fell in love with your mother. It was a different love to what I had with Angelina, but love, nonetheless.
She deserved better than I gave her.
I don’t know how my life turned out the way it did. I was in love with two women.
My beloved wife and my devoted soul mate.
The three of us suffered, but Angelina ultimately sacrificed the most.
How could fate be so cruel?
The day Giuliano was born, my heart sang with happiness.
The joy that he brought to my Angelina was indescribable.
I gasp as my hand flies over my mouth, Giuliano’s haunted eyes hold mine.
My biggest regret in all of this is that he didn’t get to grow up with his brothers. Enrico, when I look at him, I see you.
Brave, strong, and loyal.
I love you, son…more than you could ever know.
I drop my head as the tears roll down my face.
No.
You may ask why I didn’t tell you any of this, Enrico.
The answer is simple: it changes you. It changes every part of who you think you are. Knowing that your family’s money comes from crime, knowing that your father has committed adultery for all of your life…it’s soul destroying. Trust me, I know first-hand.
I was eleven years old when I found out about the family business. I was eleven years old when I witnessed my first murder. I was eleven years old when Stefano brought his mistresses into my life and paraded them in front of me as if I should be proud. There were multiple women—too many to remember. Sometimes three or four at once. This was his normal. This was how he was brought up. This was how he was going to bring me up.
He had no respect for my mother or me. It changed who I was, and for a long time, I hated him for it.
I vowed that I would never let my sons be tainted and bitter the way I was.
I wanted my sons to be proud of who I was.
I’m not perfect.
I know I loved two women, Enrico. The three of us were victims of circumstance. I know that I am still a Ferrara.
But I hope you remember the good in me, and how much I loved you.
I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.
This can’t be happening.
Please listen to what I am about to tell you. I know you will be angry, but I have my reasoning.
Giuliano does not know anything about my other life. Like you, I have tried to protect him. He knows me as Papa—his father who worked away for a few days a week. The one who idolized his mother.
My eyes rise to see Giuliano staring at the ground.
Clearly devastated.
Oh…dear God.
Enrico, I need you to be the strong man I raised and step up and look after my beloved Angelina and Giuliano.