Masquerade His forbidden Obsession

Ginevra

The sun beams are the gentle cause I wake up. Stretching in my bed, I get up groggily and get into my in-suite bathroom. After collecting my long black locks into a loose bun, I wash my face quickly before putting on some make-up. I love to highlight my dark-brown eyes with eyeliner, especially as it makes me think that it hides my nose that I perceive as too big. Checking my phone shortly, I crack up at my best friend’s text about her walk of shame back home she had to do this morning. I get out of my room and close my door behind me. Like my room, the entire home where I live with my family is designed in earthy colors, typical for a Mediterranean display. The amount of natural light streaming through the spacious rooms and the archways in eclectic tiles give the immense property the feeling of a cozy vacation home.

Unfortunately, it is not.  

I pass the textured stucco walls decorated with expensive and utterly boring artwork and walk down the marble stairs of my home to get to the kitchen. A maid is already working to set the table and I pass her to make myself a cup of coffee.

“Ginevra, what are you doing? We are eating in about 20 minutes!”

My grandfather stands in the door to the kitchen, looking at me with his dark brown eyes sparkling. He is dressed in one of his signature tailored suits and has a large newspaper clamped under his right arm.

“I just got up, Nonno. I need a coffee and I’m not going to kill my appetite because of it.” He steps up to me and pinches me in my cheek playfully.

“Ah, you have to learn to get up sooner, or you’ll lose any winning margin you could have against your enemies.” I chuckle before taking a sip of my coffee, soothing my nerves.

Enemies! Right!

My grandfather is old school and was born in a territory controlled by the Camorra. He always had some trauma he carried around, even if he had long gotten out of that kind of situation and was living far away. As he came to live here in New York all over from Naples situated in the south of Italy and built a billion-strong group in the building industry, he achieved what many others dream of. He slowly started living more peacefully even if he never lost his usual paranoia. I guess not even an ocean separating you from a problematic place you come from can give your soul some peace.

“I have Fede, he is up early enough for both of us.”

He laughs while wiggling his finger at me.

“Give your brother some credit. He works hard for the family.”

I smile, sipping my coffee.

Sure, and he got the job I was supposed to have because he is a man.