Francesca was sold to the mafia boss's son. She was supposed to marry the son, but ended up getting involved with the father... Faust just wanted to find a beautiful bride for his son, but ended up being attracted to Francesca. His irises were so blue, with hints of gray, but they didn't seem angry. Instead, he appeared amused. "You've got spirit. That's good. You'll need it, little one."View More
FaustFour and a half years laterThe door handle rattled, followed by a thud. More rattling.When Marco started to rise from his chair, I raised my hand. “Wait,” I muttered and hid my smile.A few seconds later, my office door opened and the beautiful face of my two-year-old daughter, Noemi, appeared. She walked in like she was in charge. — Papa! Zio Marco! Mom says it's time to come.I pushed away from the table and patted my lap. — Polpetta! I've been waiting for you. Come, give me hugs and kisses.— Oh, me first! — Marco took my daughter before she couldreached the table and turned it around. She screamed in pleasure, her short blonde curls flying.When he pulled her to her feet, she smiled and staggered. - I am dizzy.I gave him a second to get his bearings. — Now can I have my hugs and kisses?She ran over and jumped on top of me, squirming in my lap. Naomi was aggressive and energetic, just like her brother. And your mother, now that I think about it.Noemi stayed on my thighs
FrancescaI was worried the whole time he was gone.When Fausto was ready to return, I walked back and forth in the entrance while Nestor leaned against the wall, watching me. He didn't leave my side during my husband's absence, except when I used the bathroom. I knew this was to keep me safe, but I preferred to have Faust's gaze on me.After scolding me for scratching the entrance tile, Zia dragged me into the kitchen to order chicken in lemon sauce and a portion of roasted eggplant. She had a tartufo for dessert, which reminded me of Giulio and our dinner when I was first in Siderno. I started to tear myself apart.Zia shook her head at me. - He is better. He's a good boy, but he never liked this life, not like he should to lead. Your child will take over when the time is right.That was a conversation for another day. There was no way I was deciding my son's fate like that. I didn't care what Fausto said—our children would make their own decisions.“It's the hormones,” I told her.
In fact, I couldn't wait to sit down again. But instead I took a walk around the large hall where the round table was set up. I shook hands, kissed cheeks, slapped backs, and acted like I hadn't almost been murdered three weeks ago. Someone gave me a Campari and soda, and I saw it was Marco. I sent him a grateful look and drank half the cocktail in one go.Inside the room were members of La Provincia , the control council. The only person missing was Enzo D'Agostino. It was smart of him not to show up, because I would have strangled him right away.Finally all the leaders sat down, with our men behind us. I was sandwiched between the dons of Reggio Calabria and Platì, both men I knew well.Pasquale Borghese was the capo crimine, also the diplomat and mediator of the group, which is why he initiated the meeting. — Signori, let's begin, as we are all anxious to return home. Some more than others.— Yes, the ones with girlfriends! — Someone shouted, making everyone laugh.Borghese raised
FrancescaI couldn't stop crying.Five of us were gathered in the lobby, surrounded by three suitcases. Fausto was standing, leaning on a cane, with Zia and Marco nearby. Giulio and I stood to the side, near the luggage, and his arms were around me as I sobbed into his probably very expensive shirt. There was nothing more to be said. I had pushed for this result, I hoped it would happen, but it hurt.Giulio was the most composed of all of us, which was understandable. After all, it was his decision to leave. Fausto gave him a choice and Giulio eagerly seized the opportunity. Now he would begin a new chapter in his life as an entirely different person. When he walked out this door, he was no longer the Ravazzani heir. Not a Ravazzani, actually.And I would never see him again.I hated it, but I understood the reasons why he couldn't live happily here. And really, that was better for Giulio, that was all that mattered.When he broke the news to me, I heard the excitement in his voice abo
I looked at my wife's beautiful face, letting the tranquility she instilled in me settle into my bones. Then I pointed to the phone. When it started ringing, Marco put it on speaker and placed it under the table.“There,” said a voice, weaker than usual, but stronger than it should have been.— Enzo, come stai ? How are you feeling?— I've never been better, Fausto. But enough about me. I heard you're not well.- I am fine. Stronger than a bull. It's a shame you can't stay longer.- Yes well. Thank you for your generous hospitality. I'll have to see how I can reciprocate.“There's no need for that,” I said. — It was truly my pleasure.— Maybe you can come visit me next time. His wife seemed to like the beach house.I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nostrils. My wife's delicate fingers touched my hand, telling me to stay calm, so I said, “Last I heard your beach house was destroyed.Everything can be rebuilt, don't worry. Congratulations on your wedding, by the way.—
FaustI was too weak for the dungeon steps, so I instructed Marco to bring Vic to my new hospital room upstairs. In the middle of the night, they dragged him and threw him onto a plastic sheet spread out on the floor next to my bed. He groaned and winced, his broken and bloody body shaking in pain.Go well. That pleased me.— Can you hear me, pezzo di shit ?When Vic didn't respond, Giulio kicked him in the ribs. Vic gasped a few times, and after he calmed down, I replied: — Answer me.— Yes... Don... Ravazzani.—Know this, Vic Benedetti. I will make an example of you. They will whisper about the horrors of his death for years to come. You will suffer, coglione . You will suffer for spitting in the face of my trust and for what happened to my wife. The wife and sisters you were trying to protect from D'Agostino? They receive nothing from me after their death, noreven my protection.“No, please,” he panted. - Please.— He put a gun in my wife's mouth. A weapon. In my wife's mouth! — I
FaustI didn't sleep much that night.Lost in thought, I watched Francesca on the bed in the corner, the even rise and fall of her chest as she slept. A son. I hadn't lied when I said I preferred a daughter. Children brought a lot of headaches, a lot of worry. I did everything I could to mold Giulio into the man who would lead my family, but I failed. He did not want.You have to let Giulio choose.Two weeks ago, before I was shot, I wouldn't have cared about your feelings. He was the Ravazzani heir with a duty to me, to the family, and his wishes didn't matter.But I could no longer say that this was still the case.As I bled on the sidewalk, I thought about those I was leaving behind, including Giulio. My good boy, who only argued with me once, and it was because of his lover, Paulo. He would do whatever I asked, even at the expense of his own happiness. But did I want that life for him?I hated my own father, who never showed any consideration for my thoughts or feelings. We weren'
FrancescaThe nurse was in Fausto's room, reading his vital signs, when I entered. His heart machine started beeping like crazy when he saw me.— Ma che cazzo ? — Faust murmured.— Hello, husband. — I walked to the bed, ignoring the dark look he sent me. — How is he today, Angela?—Much better, signora. No sign of infection and he is regaining his energy.- Oh good. — I smiled at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek, which was now covered in whiskers. —Ciao, baby.Fausto was absurdly attractive when he was clean-shaven, but that was nothing compared to how hot he looked with a beard. There were even some gray hairs in his beard, which gave him a dad vibe that I definitely liked. I would beg him to keep some facial hair when he felt willing to play with me again.You shouldn't be here,” he said when the nurse left.—And yet here I am.— I should call Marco and have him lock you in the dungeon.— But you won't because they are busy with other things that are more important than me.—No
FaustI almost got killed. Again.This time, however, it was different. The other attempts on my life were botched, easily avoided. Except for the car bomb, I saw them coming.The shooter took me by surprise. I didn't expect a coordinated attack to facilitate Enzo's escape. I suppose I should have—he knew it was me or him, that one of us would end up dead—but I was shot in the street like an infantryman. In front of my wife.What was I thinking?I had been careless, which was unforgivable. She was carrying my son. Nothing mattered more than the two of them, along with Giulio. I should have stood my ground and made Francesca cancel the appointment. Instead, I let her manipulate me to get what she wanted.I wouldn't make that mistake again.Conscience once again tugged at me and forced me to wake up. My brain swam toward the sounds until my eyelids fluttered. I expected to see the beautiful face of my wife, who spent the night here with me, but Marco was there. It was the first time he
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