A crowd of people had come to visit me. I didn't want to see anyone.
No one could understand what I was feeling. I threw up all the sympathetic looks. I despised the vague acquaintances who delivered bouquets wishing me a speedy recovery. I consciously ignored Santo and Matteo. I continued to visit Elio, but I left as soon as he mentioned our children. I had recovered enough to walk by myself and went out for a few moments to get some fresh air. Santo had arranged for Elio and me to be in the same room, and I was relieved to be with him again. When I returned to the room, I saw a woman kneeling on the floor, crying her eyes out. "Please, Don Elio... My children are not to blame for the death of your children. If you accepted the organ donation, your children would live on through mine..." I had slowly opened the door and stood frozen in place. How dare this woman talk about my children like that? The woman turned her head towardMy alarm clock rings. 4: 00 AM. I groan and fumble on the bedside table to turn off the damn alarm. I pull back my blanket and sit up. One week. It's been a week since I set fire to my ex-marital room. Since then, I have felt strangely calm. It's as if, by doing so, I've managed to put an end to my relationship with Elio. He accepted that I go back to my apartment even if he refused the divorce. Illusory freedom. I walk into my kitchen space and look coldly at the island on which I once succumbed to his presence. I pull out my cell phone: "Hello? Yes (pause). I want to redo my kitchen. I sent you the plans and materials last night. (Pause) I can't stand that island in the middle of the space anymore. (Pause) By tomorrow? That will be perfect, thank you." That's one of the nice things about being part of the Family. You can call any time of the day, and there will always be someone ready to do the work for you. 5:00 AM.
I nodded immediately. You don't say no to Santo when he comes in person. "Let me go take a shower and change. I'll meet you outside." Santo finally steps back and places his hand on top of my head. I freeze as his hand completely covers my skull. From the outside, this gesture may seem affectionate, and from my perspective, it's a fucking warning, and it's his way of showing me that I'm in his clutches. "There you go, Lulu. That's how you're loved. Docile and obedient." Stronzo. (Asshole*) 6:00 AM. I finally go out. I wear a simple pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with my sneakers. Usually, I would be on my way to my apartment to change and get ready for work. I frantically tap on my cell phone screen to warn Henry that I might be late. I freeze. Santo stands with his arms crossed in front of his black Rolls-Royce. When he meets my eyes, he shifts and opens the door. "I don't want to get in," I tell him loudly en
I arrive at work as excited as a flea. I start printing out the files and brochures we've been making for months now. Henry joins me and puts an arm around my shoulders in greeting. He quickly removes the jacket from his midnight blue suit and loosens his black tie, rolling up his sleeves. "Okay, Lulu. Tell me what I can do to make it go faster." I push him away with one hand as he begins to lean over the pile of freshly printed papers: "You're not touching anything! You'll ruin my organization. Instead, open the folder on my computer and go through the documents and statistics!" Henry gives me a big smile and runs to stand behind my desk. I hear him furiously clicking, then silence. I look up at him as I bind the last few sheets of paper together. Henry is as excited as I am. His concentration is at its peak, and I know his photographic memory is taking over by the way his pupils start to move. I finally put the documents on my table and
08: 00 PM. Merda. (Shit*) I'm late for work. What a day! Late this afternoon, Matteo called me to come in for a blood test. He's worried about the seizure I had the other day and wants to do a checkup because of the tranquilizers he gave me. Of course, I went quickly. He's the family doctor. If he tells me to come, there must be a perfect reason. I was so angry all day that I fell asleep as soon as I got home. Dio mio! I grab my cell phone and quickly press the screen to warn Henry. I grit my teeth when I realize he left me about twenty voicemails and texts. * 05: 45 PM Jones has reserved a table at Solar. We'll meet downstairs at 8:00 pm. * 06: 00 PM Lulu, I don't know if I should wear my blue or gray suit. What will you wear? * 06: 10 PM I'll wear a grey suit. * 06: 15 PM Lulu, change of plan. My car has a problem. Jones sent a driver for you. Be ready at 7:30. * 07: 30 PM
Solar, one of the most exclusive restaurants in town. I wrinkle my nose as I realize what the place's name means before glancing at my driver. "Does the restaurant belong to your brother?" Santo lights a cigar before freezing for a moment. Then he rolls down the window and tosses it onto the pavement. "Not Elio's." I frown. "Questo ristorante è mio," (This restaurant is mine*)he replies almost shyly. I think I raise my eyebrows so high that they touch my hairline. "And you called it Solar?" "Si." (Yes*) "Come mai?" (Why?*) his fascination with his big brother is even crazier than I thought. "E perchè no? (And why not?)," he replies without looking at me. He seems to have seen someone further away and doesn't take his eyes off her. I quickly get out of the car, but I turn around and point in his direction. "This conversation isn't over, Santo." He merely makes a sweeping gesture with his hand to signal me to g
I start to answer, but a ringing cell phone interrupts me. Jones pulls out the phone and gets up, apologizing. He goes away from the table and goes to answer it further away. "Damn it, Lucia! You've known Jones personally all this time, and you kept quiet! Speak up, woman!" he says in a voice of mixed excitement and curiosity. I let out a sigh and am so annoyed that I down my mojito in one gulp. Then I signal to a waiter, "The same. Double the rum, please." Henry gives me the stink eye but doesn't dare say anything. "I told you this man is dangerous, Henry. The less you know, the better," I reply, shaking my head. Henry starts to protest but stops immediately. Jones is back and takes his place beside us. He leaves the screen of his cell phone turned up and what I see there tears my heart. "Do you have children, Mr. Jones? May I see them?" asks Henry, giving him a big smile. Jones just grins back at him and swallows his bourbon hard.
"Speak, woman," Henry suddenly orders me. I roll my eyes and signal the waiter to give me the same drink. However, Henry grabs my forearm and makes a cleaver gesture below his throat at the waiter. "I think we'll start with some proper explanations before you end up rolling under the table, Lulu!" he tells me, concern shining in his eyes. "There's nothing more to say. I know Jones, and Jones knows me. Period," I reply, making an exaggerated sucking noise with my straw. "All right. And can I ask how you even know him?" "No." "Did you go to school together?" he asks me, amused. "No." "Yes... he looks much older. Oh, I know! You were friends with his wife!" I nearly choke on my gulp and quickly grab my white napkin and come to rest it against my lips. I let out a sigh and lean my back firmly against my chair. "That's it. I'm friends with his wife." Henry suddenly frowns and straightens up, looking in the direction Jones has ta
I didn't see the return trip pass by. My situation took over my mind. My stilettos pounded the pavement, and I gritted my teeth as I saw men in black suits standing guard outside the doors of the building where I lived. The two gorillas standing at the bottom of the stairs bow their heads slightly when they recognize me. I walk furiously and stop at their level without a glance at them. "Cosa si fai qui? (What are you doing here?)," I ask through gritted teeth. I try to keep my annoyance aside. These men are not responsible for the actions of their Don. "Facciamo la guardia, Signora Lucia."(We are on guard*) "Perché? (Why?)" However, I am grabbed by the arm and have to make monstrous efforts not to let out a scream. I know who it is just by the pungent smell of cigars and Cologne. "Let me go, Santo. I don't want to cause a scene," I ordered him with falsely calm air. "Don't talk with the minions, Lulu," he replies, pulling me toward the buildi