Chapter 5

Alessandro Genovese

I quietly observed as the servants served the food. Salvatore had returned from abroad, and I wasn't sure if it was meant to impress me. I narrowed my eyes at Micola, who wore a constant smile on her face. It irritated me to an end, and sometimes I found myself wanting to take it away, despite the fact that she was my brother's mother.

"Let's eat," she beamed.

"Where's dad?" Salvatore interrupted, as I leaned on my food, gripping my spoon.

"He traveled... he'll be back soon," Micola stammered, and I glanced up at her. I despised her when she stammered, and even more when she lied. Liars disgusted me.

"Oh!" Salvatore exclaimed. "I thought he would be here."

"He will be back soon, he just went abroad to-"

"Basta con le sciocchezze, Micola. È solo in giro,"(stop the nonsense Micola he is just around)" I snapped at her, and both their eyes turned to me. Unfortunately, I couldn't care less.

"Questa è mia madre, Alessandro. Porta un po' di rispetto," (That's my mother Alessandro show some respect") Salvatore breathed out.

"Non me ne può fregare di meno," (I couldn't care less). I replied coldly.

"You should, damnit!" He slammed his palm on the table, and I stopped eating instantly, surprised by his audacity.

"Did you just slam your fist on the table?" I asked, slowly rising to my feet and facing him.

"Alessandro, please, it was an accident," Micola tried to intervene, but she knew better.

I grabbed his neck, but he didn't flinch. He glared into my eyes as if he could slit my throat at any moment.

"Salvatore, how big you've grown. I'm going to show you that, no matter what, I'm still older," I threatened, forcefully slamming his head against the table. Micola wailed, rushing to her son, whom I had successfully pushed down, pointing a finger at him. "Never do that again, if you don't want to be killed in the most brutal way," I warned, then walked away, climbing the stairs and heading to my room.

I entered my room and slammed the door shut, facing it and trying to control my breathing. I could have done worse to him, but he was Salvatore, and I couldn't harm him too much. In a way, I was glad to see him becoming tougher. At least I didn't have to worry about keeping him safe. I turned to face the room when my eyes caught sight of her. She was sleeping on my bed, completely relaxed. Did she not think before making herself comfortable, or was she purposely trying to provoke me? That was what I loved most in the world—women with guts. I walked toward the bed and squatted down to her level. I brushed her face with my finger, stopping at her lips. I remembered kissing her, how she tasted, and how she struggled to free herself from me. But no one could ever be free from me, unless I allowed it. I pulled strands of her hair away from her face, studying her. I couldn't deny that she was beautiful and had a lovely figure, but nothing could erase the resentment I held toward her father. And I would make sure she paid the price for it. I took out my phone and dialed Paolo's number before standing up and walking out of the room.

Flavia stood outside, anxiously looking up and down the street, her mother approaching her.

"Hai qualche traccia di lei?(Did you find her)" her mother asked.

"No dear, I don't," she answered, and Ginevra became worried.

"Where did she go?"

"Calm down, Mom, we'll find her," Flavia tried to console her. "I'll go check the market." She hurried away.

"Be careful!" Ginevra shouted after her daughter, who waved back before disappearing. Ginevra exhaled, unable to see her anymore, and went to sit on a stool when Matteo Francesco walked in.

"Matteo!" she called, rushing to him. He looked red and terrible. "What happened? Where... where... where is Aria?" she asked with wide eyes, but he didn't answer. He wept silently.

"L'hai fatto?" (Did you do it) she asked. He looked up at her, nodding.

"Sì, l'ho venduta. Ho venduto Aria," (Yes, I sold her, i sold Aria) he said.

Ginevra beamed, looking around the room excitedly. "Genio." (Genius).

"Genio?" (Genius). he asked. "I just sold my daughter, my Aria, to the Genovese. I don't even know what will happen to her."

"It was for the best. Otherwise, we would have remained indebted to them, and you know a death sentence is better than being indebted to the Genovese."

"I know," he rubbed his forehead. "I still remember the look in her eyes. She cried for me, wanting me to say it was a lie, but... how could I? How could I betray hher. I'm a terrible father."

"No, you're not. Your decision was wise, and besides, she was the oldest. We couldn't give them Flavia; she's still young."

"Enough, Ginevra!" he thundered. "Stop trying to make it seem like I did something good. I just sold my daughter..."

"We had no other options!"

"I could have found another way. I gave up on her. She'll never forgive me."

"Well, she..." Ginevra stopped speaking when she noticed Flavia standing behind them, tears streaming down her face.

"Flavia!" she called, and Matteo turned to look at her.

"Flavia..." he stuttered.

"Non posso crederci," (I cannot believe this) she whispered.

"Honey, please listen..."

"Branco di idioti! "(bunch of idiots) she shouted, cutting him off.