“You’re right.” He nods. “Sorry, I just….”
“Hey, don’t apologize. It’s perfectly normal to be pissed about this situation, both of us may have been deceived by our mothers. It’s a tough reality to face.”
He rests his forehead against mine.
“Anyway.” I smile hopefully. “You said your gut feeling was that the Lombardi story was wrong.”
“It is.”
“So?” I smile hopefully. “Trust your gut…it’s never wrong.”
He nods with a deep exhale, then his eyes meet mine. “What if it is?”
I watch him.
“What if my whole life is a lie? Where do I go from that?”
I pick up his hand and kiss his fingertips. “We go forward, Giuliano…together. Because no matter what this testing today takes from us, it can’t take away our love for each other.”
“You’re right.” He kisses me softly. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I often wonder myself.”
He chuckles and I giggle and we fall silent and stare at each other for a moment.
I know this is it, the moment where our life and future will be determined. “You ready?” I ask.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” He opens the car door. “Let’s get this over with.”
I walk down the aisle of the grocery store with my list, Davidoff is pushing my cart a couple of steps behind me. We get to the herb and spices section and I smile as I look over the choices.
I’m on a mission.
I’ve been restocking my pantry for two days now, cooking for Giuliano is my new favorite thing. I peruse the shelf and Davidoff stands silently to the side, if Antonio was here he would be reading out the list to me and helping me find things, I miss him. “Have you spoken to Antonio?” I ask.
“No, I haven’t.” He shrugs. “Why?”
“No reason,” I reply. “Just wondering how he is.”
“I’m assuming well, I haven’t heard any different.”
“Hmm.” I think for a moment, I’m going to ask Giuliano to bring him back from Rome, I don’t like him being there. That place is too dangerous for my sweet Antonio.
My phone rings and I dig it out to see a private number caller ID. I wonder who this is? “Hello.”
“Hello, is that Francesca?” a male voice replies.
“Yes.”
“This is Benedict Marias, I’ve just taken over from Dominic.”
“Oh.” I frown. “He left?”
“Yes, unfortunately he received some bad news about a death in the family and left very suddenly, we were hoping he would return but it doesn’t look likely. My apologies that your emails were not responded to earlier.”
Someone died…oh no.
“That’s okay,” I reply. “I had wondered what was going on. I hadn’t been able to reach him at all.”
“I’ll take over now, I’m reading through all the notes and getting acquainted with the job. There is so much to catch up on with the scale of things in the works.”
“Okay, great.”
“Let’s meet and discuss, say Tuesday?” he says casually.
“Sure, where will we meet?” I wince.
“At the hotel, say ballroom, nine o’clock?”
I scrunch my face, oh crap.
Rome.
Shit, I can’t get out of this without resigning from my position, and although I have been thinking of doing it anyway, I can’t just do it like this without notice. I really need to bring everyone involved up to speed to do a proper handover.
“That sounds great,” I lie.
That doesn’t sound great at all, that sounds like one big fucking disaster, Giuliano is going to go batshit fucking crazy.
“See you then.” He hangs up.
Fuck.
I stuff my phone back into my handbag, this is all so weird, first he goes missing and now someone else wants to meet me. Ugh, and it has to be in Rome, doesn’t it?
Can’t wait to have a domestic with Giuliano over this one. Oh well, I’ll think about that on Monday, I’m not ruining my weekend away by bringing it up with him now.
We’re going to Lake Como for the weekend, Giuliano’s aunt in London has asked for some photographs of Angelina and her when they were young, apparently, they are in Angelina’s attic. Giuliano has been putting off going through his mother’s things, my suspicion is that he thinks that once he sorts out her things, then it’s final that she’s never coming back. It breaks my heart, I wish she was here to help us with this mess, doesn’t seem fair that at a time of his life when he really needs some answers, nobody is alive to give them to him.
Giuliano has a house on the lake, not far from Enrico’s house. My heart sinks, I wish I was going to see my brother this weekend, I miss him so much.
So much death….
Ferrara blood is a sport.
Giuliano’s words come back to haunt me and I look around my surroundings in the supermarket.
Do you know how much a Ferrara woman’s scalp is worth?
God….
Is someone watching us right now?
I get a vision of men in suits jumping out and shooting the both of us dead, I glance to the front of the store, are our other guards safe outside?
“What’s wrong?” Davidoff asks, sensing my fear.
“Nothing,” I reply way too fast, suddenly I just want to get out of here. I glance into the shopping cart. “I think that will do us for today.”
A frown flashes across Davidoff’s face. “Do you still want to go to the fruit market after here?”
“No. I just want to go home.”
“Is something….”
“Nope.” I take the cart from him and begin to push it toward the cash registers at speed. “Come on, hurry.”
The drive to Lake Como is made in relative silence.
Giuliano is driving and deep in thought, miles away. I wonder what he’s thinking about. I go to pull my hand off his thigh and he stops me by grabbing my hand, he glances over. “Don’t.”
“I thought I must have been annoying you.”
“No.” He frowns. “As if touching me would ever be annoying.”
“Well, you haven’t said a word for over an hour.”
“Sorry.” He rolls his lips. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Such as?”
He gives a subtle shake of his head. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Jules.” I squeeze his thigh. “I know you are used to doing everything alone, but one of the main benefits of having a partner is like having your very own sounding board.”
He glances over.
“If you are worried about something, it makes it easier if you talk it through with someone.”
He smirks and keeps his eyes on the road, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips. “Really?”
“Yes.” I smile hopefully over at my man. “So…what are you worried about?”
He twists his lips as if contemplating telling me. “Well….” He cuts himself off.