⇰ 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗥𝗼𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘇 struggles to hide her relationship with her boyfriend, Joseph, from the people she loves and being the only daughter of the well-known business man, Arturo Rodriguez, means her decisions and movements are always being w...
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Naples, Italy.
Where my childhood home is located.
It's the home my father bought for my mother when they got married.
So many good memories here.
Except for one.
"Sarò in ufficio," I rasp out, waiting for Lina to finish climbing up the steps to the second floor. (I'll be in the office)
Being in this house makes me want to drink.
Drink to the point where I can't remember my name.
But Lina has never been to Italy and I want to show her how beautiful Naples is for the short time that we will be here.
And then I want to show her all the other cities.
Well, wanted.
I'm sure she wants nothing to do with me after our conversation which I understand.
It kills me but she's better off if I stay away from her.
All I know is how to hurt people.
I'm not a romantic, I'm not gentle, and I'm not a good person.
I don't deserve her.
"Assicurati che abbia tutto ciò di cui ha bisogno," I tell one of the maids before walking upstairs to the office, ignoring the portrait of my mother as I pass by it. I'll only want to drink more if I look at it. (Make sure she has everything she needs)
I slam the door of the office shut, feeling my anger and frustration get to me. Why the hell am I the way that I am? My eyes fall to the pictures that are on the desk. My father might be the most feared man in Italy but he has always been a family man.
I clench my fists at the picture of me and my brothers. We're all so young in this picture. Salvatore was the only one of us that would actually smile and enjoy taking photos.
He was cocky even as a kid.
But he was also strong headed and brave.
And even though he was eight years older than me I was really close to him.
I looked up to him.
I push the photo down on the desk so that I don't have to look at it and walk over to the cabinet, taking out a bottle of whiskey. My father installed a liquor cabinet in here when my mother died.
Instead of working in here, he would drink himself to sleep.
I take a seat on the chair, pushing the photo of my mother down on the desk as well. Maybe coming back here was a horrible idea.
