“It is Giuliano, remember.” I roll my eyes. “He probably fucked the bride in the bathroom at her pre-wedding dinner,” I mutter into my coffee.
Anna giggles. “Probably.”
It’s been ten years since I last laid eyes on Giuliano Ferrara and to this very day, it annoys me that women love him, it annoys me even more that he loves them back. I still have a twinge of ownership over him, even though I know I never did.
Sometimes, when I’m alone, I let myself think of him.
Of what happened between us all those years ago when we were kids.
I wonder what our father would make of his choices and who he’s become.
Unlike my father and the generations before him who worked in the shadows, unnoticed and unobtrusive, polite in company and secretive until the very end.
Giuliano Ferrara runs Italy with an iron fist, he does things differently.
He makes his own rules, the ultimate enigma.
He doesn’t get chauffeured around in the back of a black Mercedes, he drives himself in his black Ferrari. He doesn’t have secret mistresses hidden in Lake Como, he dates models and film stars, and flaunts them to the world.
He doesn’t have guards, he is the guard. He looks after his men, not the other way around. Known for his intelligence and cold calculation, nobody messes with him.
Ferrara Industries now own the biggest cocaine market in the world.
And I only know this because I have to listen to my mother vent to my brothers about how his father would be rolling in his grave at raising such a violent criminal.
But if I’m completely honest, and I can be with you…I’m happy he’s doing things his way.
Being a criminal is not the life I would want for him, but I’m proud that he’s done it his way and not conformed to what was expected. In the beginning there was a major backlash by his men, but in the end, he won their respect and is now revered by all.
I also know that in reality, if he didn’t step up to the plate and become the leader that my father thought he was, he wouldn’t have survived, he has a huge target on his back and I’m glad he’s good at dodging bullets.
I just wish he didn’t shoot them…. But, unfortunately, that is who he is now.
It is what it is.
I should probably have regrets that I lost my virginity to my brother.
But, the truth is, I don’t. Not one single regret.
How could I regret falling in love with such a beautiful boy?
Of course, I know that same boy doesn’t exist anymore. But our secret is safe. That short period of time in our life was sacred. We both know what happened, and while it’s never been discussed or touched on, we both know we were just a stepping-stone in each other’s lives.
He’s never tried to contact me, nor have I contacted him. It was like the world as we knew it stopped on the day he found out that I was his sister.
They say time heals all wounds, and I guess in some ways that’s true.
I’ve watched from the sidelines as he’s brought my mother to her knees.
Just as he promised, she has never received another cent from the Ferrara dynasty. Not that she needed it, my father paid her a salary of millions of dollars every month that they were married, she’s a very wealthy woman in her own right.
It’s just that now, she spends her money and not Ferrara’s. He won’t even pay for her security, she’s completely cut off.
Surprisingly, a month after he took over, Giuliano transferred the real estate portfolio into my, Matteo and Andrea’s names. He broke rank and instead of the assets staying together in the collective Ferrara pool, he gave us our equal share. Something that has never been done in all of our family history over the generations.
In return, he won my brothers’ respect, infuriated my mother and gave me the freedom to live my life as I want to.
I’m no longer controlled, my every move monitored.
As Giuliano asked, I relocated to France in the month after Enrico’s death, I felt safer there. And if the truth be told, Italy didn’t have the same sparkle to it for me anymore. Knowing that your family’s money comes from generations of crime is shameful. The day I found out was soul destroying.
And while I’m not stupid, I appreciate the luxury I’m afforded. I understand my ancestors and what they have passed down, I don’t think it will ever sit with me well. How could it?
A mutual respect hangs silently between us.
We don’t need to say anything to each other, we don’t need closure, we both know where we sit in the world.
Giuliano Ferrara’s place, a leader in the dark world.
My place, an interior designer with the biggest design house in France.
I’m happily in love with a wonderful man who I’ve been dating for three years.
Marcel is a blond-haired, blue-eyed French diplomat. We met at university and he is kind and loving and all that is good. We don’t live together, although he would like to. I live with Anna, she was always visiting me and eventually met a French man too. We have a great time together and unlike me, Anna wants to return to live in Italy one day. I’m happy here.
My future with Marcel is bright, and refreshingly normal.
I’m not trailed by huge amounts of security all the time, although four Ferrara men who live in Paris are at my beck and call. They are around but never in my way, I hardly know they are there. And when I visit my mother in Milan, I do fly home in one of the Ferrara jets. Lorenzo won’t allow me to catch a commercial flight, some things will never be completely normal, but that I can live with.
“Amber is twenty-four,” Anna reads.
“So?” I mutter into my coffee.
“Giuliano is twenty-nine, that’s a big age difference, don’t you think?”
“Have you seen her?” I mutter dryly.
“I can just imagine her lying all over his yachts in her skimpy bikinis,” she continues. “God, she would be loving herself sick.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes in disgust as I imagine it. “Don’t even.”
My buzzer sounds on my desk. “Francesca, Pierre would like to see you in his office.”
“Thanks, Inga. On my way.”
I close down my email and make my way up to the top floor, Pierre Moran is my boss. One of the most well-respected interior designers in the world. He has been the most amazing mentor possible and I owe him so much.
“Knock, knock.” I stand at his door.
“Francesca.” He smiles. “Take a seat, darling.”
I smile and walk in and sit down at his desk. “Did we get it?” I put my hands together as if praying. “Tell me we got it.”
He smiles broadly. “We got it.”
“Yes.” I jump from my seat in excitement. “I knew it. Yes. We got it!” I screech in excitement.
We just got the Remington job, the most luxurious hotel chain in the world has just hired us to do their entire refurbishment.
Pierre swings on his chair and laughs out loud. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
“Oh my God.” The magnitude of this begins to hit me and I put my hands over my mouth. “Can you believe this?”
“One hundred and eighty-eight hotels around the world are going to be redesigned by us.” He smiles. “And we have you to thank for it. Your tender was incredible. Take a bow, my dear, you deserved this.”