Chapter 06
Bianca Ferrucci
“You ruined everything!” Giulia screamed at me, her hysterical voice echoing off the living room walls. Before I could react, she shoved me hard, and I fell to the floor.
“Giulia, I swear I didn’t mean to! I tripped, that’s all!” I tried to defend myself as I struggled to pull myself together on the floor.
“And what were you doing there, huh? Spying like a rat?” she continued furiously, shouting with her finger in my face.
“See, Ant?nio? This girl is always getting in the way of our lives!” my mother’s voice rang out even louder, joining Giulia’s. “She’s dead weight!”
My vision blurred, but I managed to see my father standing near the fireplace. He stared at the floor, trying to look detached, as he always did.
“Get up, Bianca. Go to your room,” he said, his voice low and his breathing quick.
“You’re going to defend her now, Ant?nio?” my mother shouted, crossing her arms theatrically. “After everything she’s done?”
“Go, Bianca!” my father repeated, this time in a harsher tone. His voice made me jump. I quickly stood, rubbing my hands over my knees as I tried to compose myself.
“I can’t wait for the day they finally come take her away.” I heard my mother say as I hurried down the hallway.
I stopped abruptly, pressing myself against the wall when I heard my father snap back:
“Shut up, Lucia! They haven’t sent the money in months!”
I froze, my heart pounding. What were they talking about? “Come take her away”? “Money”?
I leaned closer to hear more, but footsteps echoed in my direction. I ran to my room, closing and locking the door.
I sat on the thin mattress I called a bed, hugging my knees. The words hammered through my mind: “Come take her away.”
“Who would come for me?” I murmured to myself, staring at the ceiling.
The night seemed to drag on. I tossed and turned on the mattress, but the questions wouldn’t leave my mind. Eventually, exhaustion won, and I fell asleep.
I woke to the sound of hurried footsteps and furniture being dragged around. The house had been a mess since the night before, but the staff had already begun putting everything back in order.
I went downstairs to the kitchen, where one of the oldest staff members, Rosa, was busy polishing a silver platter.
“Rosa,” I began, still hesitant. “What do you know about me? I heard my parents talking last night about someone ‘coming to take me away.’”
She paused for a moment, avoiding my eyes.
“I don’t know anything, cara mia. Your mother has a habit of saying things without thinking.”
“Please, Rosa,” I insisted, moving closer. “I heard what they said. Is it true?”
“Your mother must have been talking about some suitor,” Rosa replied without stopping as she polished the silverware.
“A suitor?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would she say something about ‘coming to take me away’ and about money? Are they selling me, then?”
Rosa stopped scrubbing the platter for a moment and looked at me.
“Girl, it isn’t always worth digging into things that belong in the past. Sometimes it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie.”
“Not for me,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “I’ve spent my entire life trying to understand why I seem to be a burden to my own family. I deserve to know.”
She gave me a look filled with compassion. Deep down, I think even the household staff were treated better than I was.
“I don’t know much, Bianca. But when I came to this house, your parents already had you.”
“I understand,” I said, feeling frustrated.
“That’s all I know. Don’t ask any more questions, girl. Not everything you discover brings relief.”
She went back to polishing the platter, ignoring my other questions. I left the kitchen frustrated. Rosa wouldn’t tell me anything even if she knew.
I spent the rest of the day in silence, my hands restless, my mind working nonstop. That night, I waited until everyone had gone to bed. I slowly made my way to my father’s office. There, I found dusty old maps, several ledgers, and even an atlas detailing the regions of Italy.
I carefully flipped through the pages, searching for any information that might lead me to something I didn’t even know I was looking for.
In the middle of a stack of old papers, I found something that caught my attention: a small notebook.
The handwriting was my father’s, scribbled and rushed, as though he hadn’t wanted anyone to see what he was writing.
I flipped through the pages, and among numbers and accounts, one name appeared repeatedly: Famiglia Bellini.
“Bellini?” I murmured to myself.
There were other notes, fragments of sentences that made no sense on their own. Something about payments, dates, and the name of a man called Vittorio.
Who were the Bellini?
I kept searching, but before I could go any further, I heard footsteps in the hallway. I quickly closed the notebook and turned off my phone’s flashlight. I waited silently until the footsteps faded before taking the notebook and hiding it beneath my dress. I wanted to read more of what was inside.
Tiziano Constanzo
Enzo laughed loudly as he drank his morning coffee, the cup trembling slightly in his hand from his uncontrollable laughter. He seemed to be enjoying himself at the expense of my bad mood and the endless pressure for me to get married.
“An heir, Tiziano!” he teased. “That’s what the famiglia needs.”
I rolled my eyes, bringing the cup to my lips. The conversation was as irritating as it was ridiculous.
“I suppose we could freeze some sperm,” Carlo said in a serious tone that didn’t match the malicious gleam in his eyes. He was a doctor and always had some mocking comment ready. “That would ensure you could get your wife pregnant even if you decided not to marry until you were eighty.”
Enzo burst into even louder laughter, nearly choking on his coffee.
“Excellent idea, Carlo! Just imagine, Tiziano. We could even auction off your heirs!”
“You’re all a bunch of idiots,” I muttered, setting my cup back on the table hard enough to make it shake.
Luigi, sitting at the head of the table as he always did, sighed heavily before joining the conversation.
“You should consider Giulia. She’s beautiful, well-mannered…”
I slowly lifted my gaze, narrowing my eyes at him, and he immediately fell silent.
“Are you getting some kind of commission from the accountant, Uncle?” I shot back, making the sarcasm obvious. “Because this persistence is starting to piss me off.”
“Actually,” Enzo cut in, leaning back against his chair with a wicked smile, “I think Dad finds the girl attractive. He wanted to fuck that pussy, and since he can’t, he wants you to have the pleasure.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, boy!” Luigi scolded his son, his stern expression contrasting with the flush creeping up his neck.
I took advantage of the opening, leaning forward with a mocking smile.
“Then marry her yourself, Enzo. Fulfill your father’s dream and fuck the girl in the room next door while he listens to her moan. Maybe he can jerk off while he listens.”
Luigi’s face turned as red as a tomato. He abruptly stood, slamming his hands down on the table.
“Do none of you respect me anymore?”
Enzo and I burst out laughing, while Carlo simply shook his head, trying to hide his smile.
Our laughter was interrupted by hurried footsteps approaching the room. My deputy chief of security walked in.
“Don, we have news about Bellini’s son.”
The room fell silent. Every eye turned toward him.
“Where?” I asked impatiently.
“In the city of Naples itself.”
I frowned. That made no sense.
“Impossible. He wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“Maybe he isn’t so afraid anymore,” Luigi said, having already regained his composure. “He must be a man by now, no longer the teenager who ran from you.”
The possibility irritated me. If Bellini really was in Naples, he was getting far too comfortable. That couldn’t be allowed.
I stood, adjusting my jacket as I looked at the deputy chief of security.
“Get the car ready. We’re going to Naples.”
Luigi and Enzo exchanged glances with me, while Carlo, ever practical, simply finished his coffee, muttering something about needing to check his first-aid supplies.
As I left the room, my mind was already on what awaited me in Naples. Killing that bastard was everything I had always wanted.
I entered my office and slammed the door behind me. The wood shook, but not as much as my hands as I crossed the room. I braced myself against the desk, trying to control my breathing.
Why now? Why Naples?
It made no sense. For years, that bastard had lived like a rat, hiding in the darkest corners, afraid of even the shadow of my name. And now he was showing up in Naples as if he were asking to be found? It was an insult.
I clenched my fists until I felt my nails digging into my palms.
“No Bellini will survive,” I murmured, filled with rage.
That night, when everything was taken from me, I swore that not a single descendant of that cursed family would remain. Not one. Not children, not women, not men. They had planted destruction, and I was the harvest.