CHAPTER ONE

KATELYN'S PERSPECTIVE

Houses and people were scattered like grains of rice on the ground as I looked down from the window of the jet that was taking my father and me to Italy.

"Pretty fascinating, isn't it?" my father asked rhetorically, his voice drawing my attention to him. Our eyes met, and I smiled, nodding my head. "Are you still angry?"

“Of course, this is my last year of college, I can’t afford to miss even a single hour, and you know that, yet you insisted on taking me to Italy. I’m tired of traveling all the time, Dad,” I complained, my voice low with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

"I'm sorry, darling, this meeting is important and I want you to be here to observe and learn. One day, when I retire, all of this will be passed on to you, and I don't want you to be clueless about how to run this company," he flattered me, playfully nudging my shoulder.

Sighing deeply in resignation, I turned my gaze back to the window, as if the beautiful view could somehow absolve me of all my duties. I heard him sigh, and his hand crept onto mine, stroking it soothingly. "It will be fun. Venice is a beautiful city with wonderful food, people, and sights."

“Mhmm” I hummed and stared up at the wide blue sky.

A series of gentle, rhythmic taps on my wrist slowly made me blink my eyes open. "Hmm? What is it?" I murmured slowly, turning my head towards the person next to me.

“We’re here, come on, get up, you can rest some more when we arrive at the hotel,” he urged.

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," I murmured.

I stretched out lazily on the soft leather couch beneath me and heard the familiar cracking of my joints as I stood up. The jet's cabin felt both too big and too small at the same time. My father was already gathering his things, his face beaming with excitement as he hummed a cheerful tune.

This trip was more than just another business trip for him; it was a step towards securing the future of our company and thus also the future of the family.

As we stepped off the jet, the cool Venetian air greeted us, mingling with the scent of the sea and a touch of the exotic. My mood shifted slightly despite my earlier complaints about the jet—a smile spread across my face as I gazed at the magnificent city before me. It was undeniably the most beautiful city I had ever visited; its aura and the stories we had heard were clearly reflected in its canals.

A beautiful, sleek black car was waiting for us on the runway, and soon we were driving through the city—the architecture was a wonderful blend of old and new. The driver took us through the narrow streets, and I found myself enchanted by the water and how the sunbeams danced on its surface, reflecting the sky.

After a few minutes of making his way through the streets, we arrived at the hotel—a magnificent building that seemed to rise directly from the canals. Inside, the lobby was adorned with marble and glass; the luxury almost overwhelmed me. My father checked us in, and I barely heard what he was discussing with the staff, as I was busy taking in my surroundings—the place was beautiful.

Our suite was no less breathtaking than the lobby; it offered a magnificent view of the canal and a gondola gliding gently across the water. I dropped my bag and sank into the soft sofa. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings.

"Go rest," my father advised me, planting a kiss on my forehead, "tomorrow will be a big day for us."

I nodded and went into the bedroom. The bed was softer than the sofa, the sheets cool against my skin. I closed my eyes, ready to rest, but sleep wouldn't come—my mind raced with thoughts of the responsibilities that awaited me, both here and at home.

My parents only had my sister and me, and without a son to inherit his business, my father had no choice but to teach me how to run it. It hadn't been easy—moving from place to place, changing schools and states. It even got to the point where my father decided to homeschool us; he felt it was for the best.

Luisa didn't like the idea; she's a sociable person with several circles of friends. But I loved the idea—it didn't bother me because I wasn't as sociable as she was. We were homeschooled until I went to college. I chose New York University because it was close to home, but now I regret it—Father used it as an opportunity to drag me along to all his business meetings. No time for myself or my education; I hardly read my books anymore.

As I lay there, and the thoughts that threatened to confine me, the city noise, and the dancing of the water in the canal lured me into a state of semi-sleep, my thoughts slowly drifted away, and my mind crossed the boundary of wakefulness into the land of dreams—I embraced the peaceful, silent darkness.

When I woke up, the sun was already sinking below the horizon, ready to begin its westward journey. The gentle glow of dusk bathed the room in soft light. I felt rested and full of energy as I left the room.

I found my father in the living room, going through a stack of documents in his hands. He looked up as I entered, a smile on his face. "Better?" he asked.

"Better than before," I replied, returning his smile.

He nodded, the smile on his face widening. "Good, very good. Our guests will be here soon—go get ready," he advised, glancing at his watch.

I pouted and dragged myself sluggishly back to my room with my luggage. After my bath, I applied my body lotion and perfume and put on a black two-piece suit—I looked like a businesswoman, ready to close a deal.

I went back into the living room. The muffled conversation became more audible as I approached the living room door. Apparently, the guests had already arrived. I paused outside the door, feeling a series of emotions stir in my stomach.

With a deep sigh, I pushed open the door and revealed myself to the people in the living room. My father turned to look at me, a smile forming on his face as his eyes met mine. "Come in, sweetheart," he urged, beckoning.

My gaze flickered between a middle-aged man in his late fifties and a young man in his late twenties—they bore a striking resemblance; the son looked like his father in his youth. Feigning a smile, I approached them and sat down next to my father.

“This is my eldest daughter, Katelynn, and also my successor,” he explained, pointing at me. “Katelynn, this is Mr. Marcello Ferrari and his son, Bruno Ferrari. My business partners.”

“Piacere di conoscerla,” I said in Italian, extending my right hand for a formal handshake, still feigning a smile.

“Parli Italiano?” boomed the deep voice of the older man through the room, his hand reaching out to meet mine.

My smile turned into a frown as I stared at the man, barely understanding what he had said. The only thing I knew in Italian—which I had had to practice over and over again—was "Nice to meet you," which I had said to create a sense of familiarity. But I hadn't expected him to reply in a language I didn't understand.

I looked back and forth between the man and my father, seeking help — instead, everyone burst into loud laughter, disturbing the quiet atmosphere.

“Ignore my father. He only raised you. We speak your language,” he explained, gently shaking my hand, a broad smile on his lips. “I didn’t expect the successor he always talked about to be a woman—and a beautiful one at that.”

"Oh yeah? Because women aren't allowed to be successors in a company?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm, my smile turned into a smirk.

He slowly let go of my hand, his grey eyes boring into mine. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised. It's quite rare to see female successors."

“I don’t believe I’m the first female successor, nor will I be the last — it’s not uncommon,” I snapped angrily, feeling attacked by his statement.

He raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender, a smile on his face. I heard my father clear his throat loudly. "Well, that was a—a bumpy start. Let's get down to business."

“Yes,” the older man agreed.

Marcello's remark had awakened my suppressed anger and caused my thoughts to wander from the ongoing meeting. My lack of concentration prevented me from noticing that the meeting had ended.

After the meeting was concluded with a handshake, the men left our suite and returned to their destination.

I turned sharply to my father. "Really? That was a rough start?" I complained, mimicking him. "Why didn't you give me any information about her? You let me come in here and embarrass myself and the family."

"Honey, you did well. This little mishap shouldn't bother you. You handled it well," he flattered, trying to comfort me.

"You should have said something," I grumbled, my voice quiet.

“Darling, you were barely awake enough for any explanations,” he explained. “But what did you take away from our conversation?” he asked. My silence made him frown. “You weren’t concentrating on the meeting, were you?” he asked.

His eyes met mine, holding a hint of disappointment, and my heart sank. “Is this how you plan to run the company when I retire? If you can’t even focus on a meeting for a few minutes, how do you expect to approach the board, resolve a problem, or even listen to ideas from board members? You’ll be CEO of this company one day, and you can’t even control your anger or your tongue. Is this how you plan to close deals? A successor shouldn’t—”

“I understand already, a successor shouldn’t do this or that. A successor should sacrifice her own happiness to the company and shouldn’t have a will of her own. I understand all that, Father, but don’t you think I deserve happiness—a little freedom from this cage?” I asked.

I watched as his face frowned. “Cage? Young lady, I’ve handled all this myself—watch your tongue. After following me for a few years, you’re already calling it a cage. I’ve run this company for 30 years, since I was 19. That’s how your grandfather raised me—I’m sorry if you feel confined!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the desk.

With a sigh, I got up from the sofa and went to the door. "Excuse me, I'd like to go for a walk," I told him, and left the room. I heard him say a few more words as I left the suite.