I am. The kind who fucks and leaves the next moment, the one who doesn't want commitment." It had been a long time since I had seen this man, maybe that was my mistake, having failed to see who he really is. - Wait for my lawyer to contact me, Marina, he will take you from Milan and we will resolve this issue, but don't worry, you will be well compensated and in the end you will see that it was the best thing - he says with his back turned. 01 Matteo Ferrara A few months before the news of the pregnancy.

It is a Saturday night and I am in Ibiza, I usually go out to clubs, making the most of my days, I have nothing left, besides, I studied accounting, Emiliano demanded, since he always needs my help to manage the hospitals.

Laura, my older sister, will take over as president when the time comes. And to be honest, I am not worried about that, as long as I can live my life in peace, like now when I look at one of the girls who is dancing casually in the middle of the dance floor. The phone vibrates in my pocket, and I walk away to a quieter place to answer Enrico, my brother-in-law. - Matteo! Matteo! - He repeats my name, and his desperate voice makes my blood run cold. - What happened? - Laura, she mo... I drop the phone on the floor before he can finish speaking, and I feel a huge hole opening up beneath my feet. - Sir, is everything okay? - One of the security guards approaches. - Arrange my flight to Milan, now. I cry over my sister's cold body, lying in a coffin, covered in her favorite flowers, and her hands are under those of Enrico, the only man she has ever loved. He is devastated, just like the rest of us. My father is in shock, he doesn't say a single word, he just cries with his eyes fixed on Laura, but he allows himself to scream when the workers start to close the coffin. - From today on, you are the sole heir of Ferrara, so please, Matteo, act like it. The only link that tied me to Emiliano has just been broken, so there is nothing stopping you from sending us away from home. -

My mother whispers in my ear, as my father leaves the wake in an ambulance. I return to the car and close my eyes, reflecting on how ironic things are. "Sole heir," I laugh at the words as a tear runs down my face. I remember one of the Christmases I came from New York, where I attended college. It was the worst night of my life, the night that shaped who I am today. "It was Christmas Eve, and I was on my way to Milan, to spend the holidays with my mother and sister. It had been three years since I had moved to New York to study, a time that seemed too long, but my father was insistent on keeping me away, despite all my efforts to please him. Calling Emiliano "my father" should be something common, after all, he raised me since birth. However, he makes a point of reminding me that I am a bastard, the son of a modest employee with whom my mother had a relationship during one of their many fights. - Matteo, leave your bags there and go straight to the office, your father has things to talk to you about - my mother said, without showing much affection after months without seeing me. - I missed you too, mother. - I wanted to say the same, if you didn't cause me so much trouble. Now go, your father is waiting. I walked with hesitant steps and knocked on the office door.

- Come in! - The firm and authoritative voice made me apprehensive, although my father usually pretended to be paternal and give a few caresses when it suited him. - Yes, sir, you want to talk to me. Before I even approached the table, he threw several angry photos at it. - Do you remember what we agreed, Matteo? - he shouted, and I trembled inside as I approached. What were Camila's photos doing on that table? "Waitress? Is that right? You have your father's blood, poor as he is." My empty hands closed in my pants pockets. "It's nothing serious," I lied. "Of course not, I imagine it's not. Do you know how hard it is to find a good marriage for an illegitimate child?" "How could I not know, if you remind me every second." "Do you want a woman, Matteo? Find some prostitutes, pay them and everything will be fine." "She's not that kind of woman," I muttered through my teeth. "No, she's the kind of woman who gets pregnant and asks for half of your assets." "That's not going to happen." "Of course not, I've already taken care of that matter. Starting today, you'll finish college here and work at the headquarters, without returning to New York, not even for a trip." "What do you mean, 'I took care of that matter'?" "Oh, you don't know that the coffee seller was pregnant?"

My blood ran cold, and I stared at him in surprise. "She was?" - Yes, I've already resolved it, but don't worry, she was very well compensated. - How did you resolve it? - Don't be naive, I resolved it the way I should have resolved it when your mother showed up pregnant with you. Tears welled up in my eyes, stinging. I turned my back to quickly wipe away a single tear that insisted on running down my face and resumed my position, facing him. - Since everything is resolved, I'm going to unpack, Emiliano. - Dad, I am your father for all intents and purposes. - Of course, I appreciate you granting me this honor. I turned my back and left the office, closing the door behind me. My mother had heard everything from outside, but there was no compassion in her gaze, only disdain. It seemed like I had committed a crime by falling in love with a woman of lower social class. I walked straight past her and went up to my room, desperately picking up the phone. Camila needed me. - Hello? - I heard his firm voice on the other end of the line. - Mila, how are you? I'm coming back, okay? - Matteo, your father has already sorted everything out, you don't have to go back. I looked for traces of sadness in his voice, but I couldn't find any.

- Mila, I had nothing to do with this. I'll go back and we'll face this together. - Matteo, are you naive? Your father didn't force me to do anything. I got pregnant because I wanted to, but he showed me that without the child I would earn more, and I accepted. Now excuse me, I'm moving. Your father transferred a mansion to my name. I ended the call, unable to listen for another second. Could he have been right all along? I got up from the bed where I was lying and wiped away the tears that I had allowed to fall for the last time. Emiliano had always dreamed of having a son, and that day I decided that I would stop being treated like a bastard. He was right, he always was. I am a Ferrara, and from that moment on, I started to act like one. It hasn't been easy to make him see me as a son, but today it seems to me that he has run out of options and that definitely doesn't make me happy, because I would much rather have Laura here with me. Matteo Ferrara A few days after the wake The atmosphere in the house is mournful, my father looks at me reluctantly, my mother couldn't possibly give him another son,