Chapter Two #2
Silvio had persisted, however, taking him coffee and telling Rocco things about his parents and family he wouldn’t have otherwise learned.
Silvio had been in Australia when Rocco’s parents died and seemed genuinely heartbroken at losing his friend.
Rocco suspected he was a sort of placeholder and Silvio was driven by nostalgia, but he’d trusted him enough to confide his aspirations.
When Silvio offered to help get his business off the ground, Rocco had been elated and apprehensive.
Could he trust Silvio? Could he live up to Silvio’s expectations?
Rocco didn’t have a formal education or even a certified trade.
What he had was the ability to lead, a brain wired for practical problem-solving and a work ethic that didn’t quit until he got the result he wanted.
Nevertheless, Silvio had put Rocco in charge of building his villa on Capri. When that went well, he hired him to oversee the construction of a food-processing plant near Naples.
Both assignments had been challenging and lucrative, establishing GPS as a viable player in construction projects.
With Silvio’s capital investment, GPS had grown rapidly, but had hit a snag when Rocco had stepped beyond Italy’s borders and won a job in Austria, beating out Vorstoben.
Once Rocco was on Otto’s radar, things had become very competitive very quickly.
Rocco hadn’t taken it personally. Otto was treating him like the upstart he was. After a few difficult financial quarters, however, when the much bigger Vorstoben had stomped all over his profit margin, Rocco had had to tell Silvio why GPS’s growth had stalled.
After so many hard knocks in life, Rocco was prepared for Silvio to cut him loose. Friendship could only carry a business relationship so far. It had been a moment of deep humility. The taste of failure had been like copper on his tongue. He’d seen his entire future disintegrating before his eyes.
Worse, he’d been sorry that he would lose Silvio’s friendship. He had still maintained a certain guard, but he’d grown used to having Silvio on the other end of a call, offering perspective. Silvio was like an uncle. A father figure. He loathed falling down in his eyes.
To his eternal shock, Silvio had broken open a bottle of sixty-five-year-old Scotch and admitted with deep chagrin, “This is my fault.”
Silvio’s “moment of weakness” was a secret he had intended to take to his grave. His lover, Trude, had agreed to do the same.
“I couldn’t lose Claudina and the life I had with our children.
” The tears in Silvio’s eyes had pleaded for understanding.
“She had allowed Otto to believe he was our baby’s father.
Trude didn’t want anything from me, but I set up a trust like the ones for my other children.
It was only fair. I was very careful, but perhaps Otto learned of it after Trude passed.
If he did, it only takes seeing my name at the top of your list of investors to understand why he would try to grind your business under his heel.
None of my other business interests are as vulnerable to his interference. ”
“If he knows you’re Mira’s father, why doesn’t he reveal it?” How did Silvio live with that sort of axe over his neck?
“Trude told me there was a nondefamation clause in their marriage contract. The penalty is significant. That’s why she couldn’t divorce him despite Otto having affairs.”
“But if she’s dead?”
“Since he hasn’t come after me, I presume the penalty stands.”
Ironically, Rocco hadn’t truly believed Silvio was a good person until Silvio had confessed the worst thing he’d ever done and asked Rocco to guard that secret with him. Rocco didn’t judge him for his affair. Silvio judged himself harshly enough and was not a selfish, treacherous person by nature.
Armed with this new understanding—and a deepened solidarity with Silvio—Rocco had become more determined and aggressive with his business. He had focused on his strengths and grew GPS in spite of Otto’s whisper campaigns and petty actions that kept Rocco out of advantageous social circles.
Given that tangled history, however, he ought to be grateful that he and Mira had run into Otto’s lapdog at the elevator. He hadn’t known how he would explain any of this to Mira without revealing Silvio was her father, but he hadn’t been given a chance to try.
And while he didn’t fear retaliation over what had happened that day, he expected it.
Maybe Mira hadn’t told Otto what had happened, though. Rocco had seen the preemptive disgrace in her eyes when she’d said, And if you tell…
She had felt used and humiliated. Guilt sat like a cold, hard stone in Rocco gut that he had caused her to feel that way. She’d been pure magic under his touch. He didn’t want her to regret what had happened between them.
Why did she have to be Otto’s daughter? Or Silvio’s? Why couldn’t she simply be a woman Rocco wanted? One he could have?
As the weeks and months wore on, he met with the hoteliers and cut deals that brought more investors onboard. He quadrupled the value of GPS overnight, but kept waiting for the other shoe to drop in Berlin.
Vorstoben continued their typical underhanded tactics. GPS won and lost bids against them. It was business as usual. Nothing specific happened to indicate they were ramping up efforts against GPS.
Rocco had wondered if Axel would climb aboard the grudge train, but began to believe the acrimony really was confined to Otto’s desire to punish Silvio.
Then Mira’s engagement to Axel was announced.