Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
"You will get some time off after lunch. It will be good for you to be less isolated," Bruno finishes. “You can also visit the gardens from now on, under supervision, of course.”
As much as I despise the man, a small part of me finds itself grateful for his kindness. I've been losing my mind, not speaking to or seeing anyone. I couldn't have carried on like that. My thoughts were turning on me.
"When do I start?" I wondered aloud.
Bruno grins again. "Right now. You're dressed and ready, so why not? You will begin by sorting some paperwork we found about your family grappa business."
My stomach tightens as he presents me with a knee-high stack of papers and documents. Our family business... it meant so much to nonna. If she knew what papa had turned it into, she'd be turning over in her grave now. She was very prim and proper, a real lady, and she would never agree with the criminal activity papa brought into the family. It made more money, sure, but it was risky and dangerous.
Wordlessly, I begin sorting through the papers. It's mindless work ‒ I arrange the invoices, separate them from ones that were sent to the others that we received. It feels strange to look so closely at the business numbers. Papa would've never let me see this, work like this. He would think it disgraceful for a young woman to work. In my family, the women were pampered mafia princesses, not smart, capable businesswomen.
All of them, except for nonna. She always broke the rules.
After a while, Bruno sends me off to order some tea from one of the maids. He could just as easily call down into the kitchen himself, which makes me suspicious as I walk down the hallway. As I move through the house, I risk a look through the window at the gardens sprawling behind the Bernardi Mansion.
I see them then, walking through the gardens.
They look like a fairy tale couple, Adrian with his dark features and the ink covering his body, and beautiful Nicoletta like a forest nymph with her silvery-blonde hair.
My hands form fists and my nails dig into my palms. I glance back toward the office. Did Bruno send me this way on purpose?
I catch him looking at me. He just stares, not reacting, and finally I look away too, still fuming with anger as I stomp to the next maid I find and order a pot of tea.
Returning to the office, I refuse to so much as acknowledge Bruno sitting there. I pay him no mind and focus instead on the work ahead of me, sorting through what feels like years of invoices and documents that have never even been looked at twice.
My heart hurts. After seeing Adrian so comfortable with that girl, I can't help the feelings of jealousy gripping my heart. I want this to be me. I want to be the one walking through his family gardens with him. I want to be wearing his ring, calling him my fiancé. Nicoletta Carlucci has stolen my spot and I fucking hate her for it.
Instead of dwelling on things I can't change, I do my best to focus on the work Bruno has laid out for me.
It doesn't take a genius to realize the books are off, by a lot. My father was siphoning money from the company, draining it of all the fortune it had taken generations to build. Nonna would be devastated if she saw the state of these books. There is less and less grappa, and more and more weapons, drug trafficking and unaccounted for parcels I don't know a thing about.
The Da Costas built their business on family loyalty, but papa crushed all that and turned it into dust with his actions.
"What are you going to do with our business?" I demand from Bruno, feeling disgusted at the thought of everything nonna had built falling apart because of some petty vengeance the Bernardis have with Vitto and my brother. "Are you just going to let everything go to hell?"
"No need to attack me, Marzia," Bruno mutters. "That's why I called you in here. I figured you know the grappa business better than any of my men. We believe it can still be profitable. We want your help in making it into a thriving business again. Of course, it won't be the Da Costa grappa anymore. Now, it's called Bernardi grappa."
"You're horrible," I mutter. "Grappa is all about family and tradition. And you just tossed all of that aside."
"No, Marzia," he replies coolly. "Your father did when he risked everything, including your family. He put not only you but also your mother and brother in danger with his illegal dealings. Whatever you think about me, it can't be worse than the reality…which is that your papa was a criminal."