Page 17 of Forgive Me, Father
“Hi, I don’t know which room I’m in.”
“Don’t worry, miss.It’s the Pontisello suite, the penthouse.How can I assist you today?”
“Oh,” a chuckle left my lips, “May I please have a cheese and bacon burger, and fries sent up?With a bottle of champagne.”
“Of course.Anything else?”
“No, that’ll be it.”
“Food will be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
I set the phone down and wondered if I should’ve ordered something for Alfonso too.I wanted to phone back but then realized that I had no idea what he preferred.I didn’t know the man I’d married any more than the one I was supposed to marry.
New tears welled up, and I despised them.I hated that I couldn’t turn off this overwhelming sense of betrayal.Yet, it had brought me to the most significant and successful merger, one that my father had never managed to orchestrate.I could almost feel my grandfather’s approval, as if he were smiling down on me.I only wish he were still alive to see it, to know that I had done this.Not my father.Not my uncle or brother.But me.
I also decided that it was something I wasn’t going to tell my mother.She was going to be livid, but at least she couldn’t force me to marry that lying son of a bitch anymore.
I couldn’t help but wonder what my father would do if he knew the truth.
I slipped out of my dress and stepped into a long, soothing shower.
It was a glass-walled sanctuary of slate and steam.A rainfall cascaded from above and the city lights watched in silence.
It was erotic and at the same time nerve-wrecking, but I doubt that anyone could have seen me.
The warmth melted away the tension and eased the knots in my muscles.My mind wandered back to Philip and the wedding I left behind.By now, we should have exchanged our vows and wrapped up the wedding photos.We’d likely be walking in as Mr.and Mrs.DaCosta.
But it wasn’t my reality anymore.I wasn’t Mrs.DaCosta.I was Mrs.Pontisello.
A small detail that my mind struggled to process.I still needed to find out where in the Pontisello family tree he fit.
Who was his father, as there were three brothers?
Rico, Marcello, and Jacob.Rico was the head of the Pontisello family, the one who controlled everything.He even held the highchair in the circle.He had the final say, and whatever he chose held power.
He had two sons: Luca and Roberto, both constantly in the spotlight.The more dangerous of the two carried a nickname, the White Rabbit, but I had no idea which one it belonged to.
Stories about him had always scared me.They said he was vicious.Killed without flinching, but even as the White Rabbit, none of Rico’s two sons carried the mark underneath their eye like Alfonso.Maybe they were still working up to it.
I didn’t know much about Marcello and Jacob.My father’s attention had always been fixated on Rico.He was obsessed with the idea of merging with him, desperate for it to happen.
He might be disappointed when he realized it wasn’t the right Pontisello, but I knew I had made the right choice.
I wasn’t going to tell them either.The consummation ceremony would speak for itself.
They’d find out tomorrow, just like everyone else, that I was now a Pontisello.
Another part of me wanted to scream out of pure excitement.A fucking Pontisello.
I giggled to myself.It was the weirdest emotion I’d ever felt.
A fucking Pontisello.
No matter how many times I said it, I still struggled for it to sink in.
When I felt clean, I got out and clutched the lush towel to my body.
