Chapter 04
Bianca Ferrucci
“I don’t understand all this fuss over a party,” I muttered to one of the staff members as she chopped vegetables with almost mechanical speed.
“Signorina, your sister is going to be introduced to an important man. The family is very excited,” she replied without looking away from her work, offering a shy smile as if she didn’t want to get involved.
I walked away without saying another word. I didn’t need any more explanations. I had always known this was the fate waiting for us: to be sold like merchandise in exchange for prestige and a place at society’s table.
Giulia might be the luckier one. It was obvious she would marry someone young, handsome, and influential, someone my mother considered “worthy.” As for me… Well, I would be handed over to the first man who showed any interest in the Cinderella of the family.
As I walked down the hallway, I could see the staff working everywhere.
The main room had been transformed into a stage for the grand presentation.
Crystal chandeliers polished until they gleamed like stars hung from the high ceiling, while arrangements of fresh flowers adorned every table and corner.
White linen tablecloths covered the tables, embroidered with the Ferrucci family crest, as though we were trying to scream to the world that we belonged somewhere that would never truly accept us.
My mother coordinated the servants with shrill commands, demanding perfection in every detail. She wanted to impress. She wanted this house, which I had always considered cold and empty, to look like a palace.
Giulia was getting ready in her room as if she were preparing for her own wedding. My mother was ecstatic, almost floating as she rushed from one side to the other, pressing her hands to her chest as if she could barely contain her happiness.
“He accepted! He’s coming!” she announced with excessive delight. “Giulia, do your best, sweetheart!” she exclaimed, turning toward my sister, who pretended to be excited while adjusting the gold earrings she had inherited from our grandmother.
I knew the truth. In the end, we were nothing more than pieces of flesh put on display to be claimed without passion or love, meant to satisfy interests and ambitions that had never been ours. It was a sad fate, but an inevitable one. I also knew my turn would come sooner or later.
I went upstairs to my room, where a few dresses I had set aside were scattered across the bed. They were simple, some of them even decent, but nothing that could impress anyone. I knew that. I had always known.
The door suddenly flew open, making me jump. Giulia stormed in like a whirlwind, holding a well-tailored dark blue dress. She tossed it onto the mattress, the fabric sliding like silk over the others I had chosen.
“Wear this,” she ordered, without even looking at me with her usual contempt. “I don’t want my future fiancé thinking my sister looks like a scarecrow.”
I looked at her with the same disdain she had shown me.
“Thank you, Giulia.” My answer was dry, but carried a tone she would recognize as sarcasm.
Giulia was not a good person. She hadn’t brought me that dress out of compassion or because she wanted to help me look less mediocre. No, she had something in mind. She always did.
I traded the worn-out dress for the blue one Giulia had left for me.
The soft fabric caressed my skin, a strange and almost uncomfortable sensation for someone accustomed to rough, old clothes.
I carefully brushed my hair, leaving it loose, and pinched my cheeks to bring some color to my pale face.
In the mirror, I saw someone who didn’t look like me, but didn’t look like Giulia either.
It was as if I were somewhere in between, trying to become something I could never reach.
I sighed, adjusting the small details. In the end, I would only be a background character tonight. And maybe that was for the best.
Night finally arrived, bringing with it the glow of the lit chandeliers and the muffled sound of the first cars parking in the garden.
I wandered absentmindedly across the lawn, my favorite book in hand, rereading the same story for the sixth time: a young woman trapped in a dungeon, rescued by a prince. A story I knew would never be mine.
I closed the book when I heard the growl of powerful engines. I looked toward the gate just as a convoy of luxury cars entered, cutting across the stone driveway like a procession. In the middle of them all, an imposing black vehicle stopped in front of the entrance.
A tall man stepped out. Skin pale as marble, perfectly styled brown hair, and blue eyes that were almost gray. He wore an impeccable suit that looked as natural on his body as his commanding posture. The tailored fabric revealed the power he carried effortlessly.
His eyes swept across the garden with indifference, as though nothing around him was worthy of his attention. An ironic smile curved his lips as he walked toward the entrance with his hands in his pockets, completely at ease.
“Fix that expression, Tiziano,” the man beside him grumbled, older and just as well dressed.
“Uncle, I hope this is worth it,” he replied, his voice laced with boredom and sarcasm.
My legs weakened when his eyes, even if only for a brief second, passed over mine. His forced smile, which should have been nothing more than a casual gesture, made my heart race. The world around me seemed to disappear. Who was he? What kind of man carried so much power in a single glance?
I watched him disappear through the door, unable to move. For the first time, I felt like I wanted someone to notice me.