Chapter-9🌜 I have an idea!
Zane's POV
"No, Mr. Mehta." I tell him, "This deal is closed." My tone is professional and controlled. But it doesn't leave any sign for further discussion.
"You can't just-" he starts.
"Oh, but here's the thing-I can." I gulp my red wine down in one go. "You heard my answer."
Mr. Mehta turns red and leaves. Such a pathetic old man, I roll my eyes.
Mr. Mehta is my dad's close friend, so he knows my family personally. Knows stuff about me that my work employees and work colleagues-and definitely not my business partners know.
One of them is my sexuality, and another is the whole 'he's spoiled rich guy' bullshit. Add them both together, you get-
"He's a soft guy who's spoiled."
And it's not just him only, everyone around me thinks I have it all, the eldest son of the Belladonna family. A billionaire at just the age of 24-respect and wealth have never been an issue.
Although the Belladonna trust only grosses over billions, I have made enough fortune of my own, with my Valentino Co.
Was my family's wealth a help for it to be initiated? Sure, but the idea was mine.
The hard work was mine.
The rejections were mine.
Moreover, I didn't even want to use my family's wealth and name, but my dad...
Apparently, his eldest son going around struggling to start a cheap business, would be way too insulting for our family's legacy.
Moreover, he wanted me to be a part of the Belladonna Trust, as his heir. So struggling was out of the question.
Imagine what people would say? "You are the son of Mr. Belladonna right? Like the owner of the whole
Belladonna empire." With a pause.
"And you are here for what? To pitch your company for me to invest in it?"
Insert a laugh and then, "Oh well, I would be quite frank, the product is nice, but you are being delusional here, you can't get that big of an investment just because your dad has billions."
Pitch closed.
Message received.
And there would always be a, 'look at that rich guy, so far away from reality that he thinks his company would work out just because his dad has money.'
People won't even take me seriously, because some would think I am a spoiled 21 years old with no idea how a business works.
And the unspoken reasoning that would always be there-my family's reputation preceding me.
But that was at the beginning of my career, because then my dad said-
His classic, "Belladonnas don't struggle like pedestrians. We take. We fight. We succeed." That's what my dad says.
That line is the mantra of our family.
It's ingrained in our blood.
It's part of the Belladonna genes.
So I worked at the trust-worked on a normal wage and then made my own empire-which is now making billions every year.
Everything on my own.
Because I needed them to take me for who I am, and not just for what my name says-I became Zane Valentino.
Put myself on the globe.
Made my own name in this little world. Although, I am still the heir to my family's... business.
It's not nearly close to the wealth of the whole Belladonna empire seeing our presence in almost every field possible-from oil to fashion-you name it, we have it, and our other... business.
But it's enough, more than enough. Because it was never about money, it was about independence. If I had just stayed in my family's business.
I would have to swallow the poison served on me on a golden platter-Everyday.
I still am and always be cornered as-the gay one.
But now, at least when I can leave...I won't be dependent.
My personal phone rings, and to see who the caller is.
Not many people have this number, so it must be-
Mom.
And yes indeed, this is my mamma.
Just seeing her name only-calms my mood.
I pick the call up and she starts in Italian.
{Bracketed dialogues are said in Italian.}
["Hey, were you busy?"] She asks me, like she always does.
["No and yes.] I reply honestly.
["Hmm, I am gonna go with the 'No' then."] She says teasingly.
And I groan, not with actual annoyance though. ["Why would you call?"] I ask her gently, because she usually doesn't call-or what she calls-disturb me at work.
["Hmm, so now I can't call my son?"] She feigns a sob-doing the whole nose sniffling and all. ["This is what you get for keeping your son in your womb!"]
Two years as a drama teacher, and she never lets me forget it. I shake my head. ["Okay Ms. Bianca, if you are done with your monologue-may I say something?"] I ask her and then say ["You know you can."]
["Ugh, you are such a joy killer!"] She sneers. "I was just about to accuse you of being the worst son ever!" She says in English.
"Don't worry mumma, your husband says that enough." I joke.
What? I tried, okay? When life gives you lemon juice, make lemons, or whatever the guy on the FM said.
Trauma jokes are the best.
"Oh...I am sorry son. I shouldn't have said that." She says guiltily.
Wait-I guess they are not even that good.
"No it's okay-" I am just saying when she interrupts.
"In fact, I should have said, 'You are sounding like your dad!'" She jokes.
And laughs at her own joke.
And I can't help but join in, "But that would have been cruel, mumma!"
"I know right!"
We both laugh again, and then I ask her, "Why would you call though?"
"Oh I just wanted to check on you...Seeing the whole wedding announcement and then the meeting with William..." She says, her voice all of the sarcasm and now has true concern. "Are you okay, son?"
Am I okay? Urm...
Let's see, my list of haters just got an addition yesterday and he will be my legally wedded and publicly announced husband.
So am I okay? I guess so.
"I am mom." I say, hoping my voice sounds genuine.
"Oh son..." From my voice only she could tell I am lying. And if we were talking in-person, who would definitely have pressed the topic, but she leaves it for now.
"How was the meeting with him?"
Hmm...how was it? As I said, TERRIFIC!
"He hates me mom." I say, because saying just that, would save me from going further into it.
"Oh hun, don't say that..." She starts, "No one can hate you son, some people might not like you, but-Hate...I don't think so." She says confidently. "You are too kind to hate, too lovely to hate, son." Her voice is soft and filled with love.
She continues, "Unless they are far up their ass to see the real you. And William didn't sound like that yesterday." She says with conviction.
And I just can't decide which part to comment on first-"Mom, I am not 'kind or lovely'-I literally kill people."
"For your dad. You do that-for your dad." She says, "So no, it doesn't make you an evil person. Because I know if you were given a choice-you will leave in an instant."
If she puts it like that...
But still, I know intention doesn't excuse action. And as a grown ass man-I am accountable for my actions. And I know they are not on the positive side of the spectrum.
But I don't argue with her. Because I know she won't accept me, self-deprecating myself.
"Now try not to change the topic and tell me-what did William do, that makes you think that." She asks me.
I groan, "Hmph...you won't let this go, would you?"
"No, and now answer." She says.
"He didn't verbally say 'I hate you' but his actions were enough." I start, "When I told him, we should at least try to have mutual understanding. He very curtly said, 'We would always be strangers. Always.'" I say.
Just thinking about it is making me worried about the future.
"Hmm, maybe he was just over-stimulated with the whole marriage with a mafia and all.
" She says. "And developing mutual understanding is not something you can have from just a meeting.
"
"That guy is getting married to a man whose family has such a dangerous reputation-anyone would react that way. "
"Hmm... but then he was also passing me such looks, as if I have destroyed his world or if I am hurting him in the worst way possible."
I remember the way he had glared at me with his coffee brown eyes, when the wedding date was announced.
As if I am the bane of his entire existence.
"Zane...he's still young-you both are young.
But at least you won't have to move-in in a stranger's house.
And leave your life behind. I am not saying you have it any better.
" She says, and then continues, "But he's still in college, and now out of the blue, he's arranged to get married-to a man. His anger is valid, son."
I know she's being understanding, but-
"Then he should be angry at his dad! Not me..."
"I know, and I am not saying he should be angry at you. But time will change that." She says, her voice is still serene.
"Time-how?" I ask, because I doubt anything will...
"Firstly, just give him some time. When he is in a better state of mind, he will be able to stand your situation too." She pauses and then continues, "Secondly, spend some time with him-you both will be able to understand each other better."
Spend time together-
Ha-ha, as if he would like that...
Yesterday was enough to tell me, he would like to be anywhere but near me.
"So basically, time will help." She says.
"It sounds good to hear, but it's not practical mom." I tell her. "It won't work."
"Shush! It will! I know what I am saying." She grins, and I can literally hear from the phone. "In fact, I have an Idea."
Here we go...