Chapter 4 Charlie
Charlie
The weight of the letter sits heavily on me. Perched on my lounge room windowsill, watching the restless city while drinking my coffee. I think to myself, What do I really have to lose?
I grip the new phone Caterina gave me in the other hand. When I swipe to unlock it, the phone is empty except for a few preloaded contacts. Luciano, that was expected, but alongside his name is Stefano, Carlo, Mattia, Gabriele and Rosa.
Tapping Luciano’s name, my finger hovers over the screen. What do I even say to him? Do I use my full name or short version? Do I call him or just send a text? I go with the safer option, typing my message.
Hi Luciano, Charlie here. The letter said to contact you if I accept. What do I do now?
The reply is instant.
Pack your bags.
Uh, what about the rest of my stuff in the apartment?
Don’t worry about it.
I can’t leave it for a year untouched??
I’ll sort it.
When do I need to be ready by?
9:00 a.m. on Monday.
I’ll send someone to get you.
A man of few words…
The following days roll by in a blur. First on the agenda is quitting my job.
I head over to the diner, my only sanctuary where the coffee’s strong and people don’t ask too many questions.
I let my boss know that as of Monday, I’m out, I quit.
He shrugs like I’m just another inconvenience.
Just another confirmation of how far I’ve drifted from the life I was supposed to have.
Next, I meet up with Mel. I stir my coffee absentmindedly, trying to find the right words to break the silence. “Mel, I need to tell you something.”
This draws her attention back to me. She looks me up and down, her eyes widening. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant. Shit! Who knocked you up?”
“What?” I shriek at her, causing the tables beside us to look over. I can’t believe that was the first thing she thought of. Am I really that reckless?
“Oh, sorry, not pregnant. Got it,” she says, sipping her coffee with a smirk.
“My birth mother’s lawyer showed up the other day. She’s gone and left me everything.” I sip my coffee, waiting for her reaction.
Eventually, Mel blinks, her brow furrowing. “Wait, what…? She’s gone? Like dead?”
I shrug, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I don’t know exactly, but I’m moving into the family estate. It’s one of the conditions before I can officially inherit it.” I bite my lip nervously.
Mel shifts in her seat, trying to mask her worry but failing miserably. “Charlie, are you sure about this? It sounds… odd. You know nothing about her or her family, and now you’re going to move into the family estate?”
“But what if it is legit, Mel?” I ask. “It would set me up for life.” The letter said estate and businesses in plural, so they must be rich.
Mel reaches over, squeezing my hand lightly. “Just remember I’m here, okay? I want you to check in with me every couple of days.”
I smile, the faintest glimmer of gratitude breaking through my guarded exterior. “Thanks, Mel.”
Back at home, packing my life up is quicker than expected.
All my clothes and the few pairs of shoes I have lay scattered around my bedroom floor.
I refold everything and pack them into a couple of bags in no time.
Moving onto the hallway cupboard next, I stumble upon an old, neglected box.
It’s unmistakably my father’s belongings; untouched, silent, waiting in time to be open.
Prying it open cautiously, each creak of the lid peels back layers of time buried. Photographs discolored by age, letters inked with his handwriting, and small, forgotten treasures spill out onto the floor.
My fingers trace each item. Tears silently fall down my cheek. “Why did you keep Mom a secret?” I ask the photo of Dad in my hand.
Looking through the boxes of his belongings, there is no trace of Caterina at all—every possible memory has been wiped from existence. Flipping through our photo albums, I never noticed before that there are no photos from the hospital or of our life before I was one. How strange…
I keep a handful of valuable items from the box and pack the rest away, scribbling ‘storage’ on the front of it for Luciano.
Monday morning arrives and I’m running late, thanks to my alarm not going off.
I bolt from my apartment while tying my hair into a messy bun, my heart pounding as I make it out the front just as my watch turns to 9am, the same time a blacked-out Mercedes SUV rounds the corner and halts in front of me, its dark presence cutting through the morning calm.
The driver’s door swings open and out steps a familiar face.
“Glad to officially meet you, Charlotte.” He grins, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.
“YOU!”
“Yes, it is me, Charlotte. Your friendly diner loverboy,” he jokes, clutching his chest with his hand.
“Don’t call me Charlotte. I hate that name.” I place my hands on my hips in defiance. “It’s Charlie.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, Charlie,” he says. “Where’s your stuff? Luciano said you’re moving into the big house. You got a ton of bags to bring?”
Without waiting, he strides into my building, taking two stairs at a time, heading straight for my apartment as if he’s been here a hundred times before. Strange, but I shrug the thought away.
“I haven’t packed as much as you think.” I storm past him with my arms crossed tight. “Look, four bags,” I say as I pick them up awkwardly. “It’s okay, don’t offer to help or anything…”
He leans against the wall, watching me with a quirked brow, trying to figure me out. Today his hair is in a long braid instead of the topknot, giving him a Viking vibe.
“What’s your name, anyway?” I ask, hauling the heavy bags down the stairs and towards the SUV.
“Mattia.”
“Mattia?” I repeat, and the word hangs in the air. “That’s Italian?” Then I remember it’s one of the names in my new phone.
“That’s right,” he says, holding the back door of the SUV open for me to get in.
But instead, I dump my bags on the backseat and storm around to the passenger side, irritation starting to flare. “Well, Mattia, I’d rather not feel like I’m being chauffeured to my new home,” I say. “I’ll sit in the front, thank you very much.”
A grin tugs at his lips as he shuts the back door and slides in behind the wheel. “You and I are going to be best friends, Charlie.”
“Doubt it.” Cranking the radio louder, I press my forehead against the glass, watching the city’s chaos fade into quiet suburban sprawled with mansions and manicured lawns stretching endlessly.
We’ve been driving for nearly an hour when, looming ahead, is the most massive brick wall I’ve ever seen, stretching for what seems like forever. There are no other mansions in sight. When did they stop appearing?
We pull up to the front gate, the car idling quietly. Mattia rolls down his window, eyes sharp as he nods to the two soldiers in the security booth. Where the hell are we? I think to myself as they press a button and the big iron gates in front of us slowly open.
Mattia catches the look I’m trying to mask, shaking his head with a sly grin. “You look confused,” he says. My father always said I didn’t have a good poker face.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I snap, voice thick with sarcasm.
“Of course I’m confused. I haven’t the faintest clue what my mother did for a living.
” I tried looking her name up online, but I couldn’t find a single thing, which is strange considering the sprawling estate before my eyes.
Driving down the winding driveway, the family mansion finally comes into view, but to me it looks more like a fortress masquerading as a home, tucked away from prying eyes. Something doesn’t seem right here.
Mattia steps out of the car, stretching his long frame. “Let’s just say our businesses stretch across cities worldwide,” he says casually.
“What kind of businesses?”
Before Mattia can answer, a deep voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding. “Mattia! Prendi le sue valigie dalla macchina. Suite est. Subito!” Mattia! Get her bags out of the car. East suite. Now!
“Si,” Mattia yells back at him, strolling around the car to get my bags.
A cold chill races down my spine. No. It can’t be…
The man who claimed ownership of the club is here, at my mother’s estate?
A million thoughts start rushing through my mind.
Is he family? Oh shit, did I try flirting with my own blood?
Did I think about fucking my brother? Ewww. The letter said no siblings, though.
Cousin? Uncle? None of it fits, but the dread is real, twisting inside me as each footstep of his crunches louder on the gravel.
He appears at the front of the car, hands in his pockets, his energy fierce and unyielding, a triumphant grin carving across his face. “Principessa,” he declares, his voice thick with victory. “I told you I’d be seeing you soon.” Oh fuck, he must be Luciano…
I glare at him through the glass window as I open the car door and climb out. “Fancy another drink in your face, Luci?” I slam the door, daring him to play.
Luciano’s eyes darken again, just like they did at the club. “Next time you want to waste expensive whiskey,” he growls, stepping so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body, “I’ll make you lick it off my body.” His face flushes dark red, his anger barely contained.
“I’d rather lick a cactus,” I retort.
Mattia lets out a low chuckle behind us, clearly amused by my defiance. “Looks like Charlie’s going to keep us on our toes.”
“Vaffanculo, Mattia!” Fuck off, Mattia! Luciano’s chest rises and falls under his cashmere black shirt like a storm about to break.
He moves toward me, forcing me back against the car, caging me in.
Our bodies press tight together, every muscle, every bulge, I can feel, raw and undeniable.
My body betrays me, arching forward slightly, aching to be touched by this handsome Neanderthal.