Masquerade: His Forbidden Obsession

Ginevra The sun beams are the gentle cause I wake up. Stretching in my bed, I get up groggily and get into my in-suite bathroom. After collecting my long black locks into a loose bun, I wash my face quickly before putting on some make-up. I love to highlight my dark-brown eyes with eyeliner, especially as it makes me think that it hides my nose that I perceive as too big. Checking my phone shortly, I crack up at my best friend’s text about her walk of shame back home she had to do this morning. I get out of my room and close my door behind me. Like my room, the entire home where I live with my family is designed in earthy colors, typical for a Mediterranean display. The amount of natural light streaming through the spacious rooms and the archways in eclectic tiles give the immense property the feeling of a cozy vacation home. Unfortunately, it is not. I pass the textured stucco walls decorated with expensive and utterly boring artwork and walk down the marble stairs of my home to

Ginevra “What kind of party?” I ask her, looking up at her intrigued. “The Gold Point Finance Holding’s party.” She flashes me a big smile as I stare at her incredulously. “You know that I’m not admitted there, right?” Gold Point Finance Holding is one of the biggest finance companies you could find in this booming city. If there is something screaming big business to finance, you can bet on their involvement. My grandfather once had an immense dispute over the financing of an enormous building site of ours with the group’s CEO, and it didn’t go well for the latter. The entire argument started because of my grandfather’s arch-rival, the head of the Capoletti family, getting involved as other party in the construction deal. As it totally went overboard, it nearly risked the entire finance group falling apart. The moral of the story, it didn’t. And the now most awaited party of the year is tabu for mine as well as the Capoletti-family. Not that I would care about the jerks. My fa

Ginevra I want to throw up on the table badly as Tommaso fake laughs at my father’s joke. At least he is diplomatic. I’m sitting in a noble restaurant between my father and my mother and trying not to look sick at this grotesque situation. Tommaso is indeed a tall and slender man with the smallest lips I’ve ever seen. Labbra da traditore, as Nina would say. Like me, he must have been pressed into wearing something screaming wealth and so he is wearing a light blue tailored suit with a dark blue satin tie and is sitting between his parents. I was convinced all would be going well but as I’m sitting in front of him trying to make casual conversation my heart sinks more and more. My pondering on the question of what would be wrong with him, that even with all that money, he would need an agency to be married to someone, gets even worse as I want to gag at his honied voice. Well, just like me… I push down the urge to sigh deeply, not wanting to be punished by my mother as soon as

Ginevra Standing in my Nana’s boutique, I’m talking to a customer while Nina is cashing in another. The little ding at the door announces the entrance of a new costumer and I recognize a regular. She has her light brown hair tied in an elegant ponytail and is wearing a yellow summer dress. The big loop earrings swing as she spots me with a big smile. My interest gets captured by the gorgeous hulk getting in after her. His broad shoulders and muscular body contrast with her petite frame. His clenched jaw outlines his strong jawline and I’m nearly saddened by the fact that sunglasses are hiding his eyes. Good heavens. I wave at her to greet her, and to also rip me out of my trance. I finish talking with the lady in front of me and as she decides on a bag, I invite her to the counter to pay. As I’m packaging the designer bag with tissue paper, Nina scoffs next to me. I follow her gaze to the newly arrived couple and get back to tie a bow out of a colorful ribbon. I thank the elderly w

Ruggerio As the bartender delivers our drinks, I thank him and hand her the glass of champagne. She thanks me with a crooked smile, and I take a deep breath lifting my gaze. Just as I let my eyes roam over the entrances, I see two women walking in. They halt at the top of the remaining steps after having passed the large double doors and seem to assess which bar they want to attack first. The one on the right captures my attention immediately. Do I know her? She is wearing a lilac dress that flows down her body, kissing her curves and putting some nice boobs on display. No, I surely would remember those. The color of the dress matches her mask, like everybody else’s does. It’s quite common actually. Hers, on the other hand, has her looking regally. She has her hair falling on her shoulders like a black silky waterfall. I don’t do dark haired. I’m still staring as my thought has me tearing back to reality. I look back to my date as her voice and the loud music which faded mom