Ferrara Read Online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Forbidden, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 142640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
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I don’t understand.

You may ask why I kept the Ferrara business from you, Enrico—why I didn’t prepare you better.

It was my greatest dream that, by the time you learned of this, I would have held the helm for a good period of time and the violence would have been a distant memory for our family. I knew that one day you’d find out who your ancestors really were, and I wanted you to be prepared.

Violence?

I don’t understand…I read on.

Although I didn’t train you for our business, I did prepare you in my own way. The day you became a policeman, Enrico, was the proudest day of my life. You learning that side of the law will help Ferrara greatly in future generations.

I’m guessing that you are searching for this because you have found out about Angelina.

I’m sorry I disappointed you, son. I felt this burden every day of my life.

Your mother and I were promised to each other on your mother’s birth, when I was only three years old. We met a few times over our lives, and we were to marry when I was twenty-two.

When I was seventeen and visiting an aunt, I met an English girl in Lake Como who was an exchange student. Her name was Angelina Linden, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We talked, and I convinced her to let me take her on a date. One turned into two, two turned into three.

I fell hopelessly in love with her. We spent two wonderful years together in Lake Como, and when she had to return to England, I ran away to go to her. I couldn’t stand the thought of a life without her in it.

My family were appalled. I was promised to another. Many financial deals had been negotiated from this arranged marriage. Stefano, my father, came to London and made me return to Italy without my beloved Angelina.

It broke my heart. I never thought I would recover.

“Is this…your mother?” I screw up my face. “I’m so confused.”

“Keep reading,” he snaps.

I focus back on the letter.

Your mother and I began the courting process and I told her that I loved another. We spoke often of Angelina. There were no secrets between us. She was a dear friend who helped me through the process. In fear that I would run away again, the marriage was brought forward and your mother and I exchanged our wedding vows. By this time, we were close friends and I began to have feelings for her. Not the same as my feelings for Angelina, but feelings all the same.

Your mother is the most beautiful, selfless person I have ever met. I adore her with every sense of my being. Over the next four years, we had three beautiful sons together. We traveled along and I was comfortable…but there was a part of me missing.

I close my eyes.

Oh God.

I don’t think I can read on. After a moment, I force myself to.

I went to France for business. You can imagine my shock to run into my Angelina, who was there for business also.

In the ultimate act of betrayal, I spent a week in Angelina’s arms and fell deeply in love with her again.

This time, there was no end in sight. I knew I couldn’t live without her.

I returned home and told your mother everything. I asked her for a divorce, which she declined. She wanted me to be with her for our children’s sake. She wanted the security of having me at home. Your mother didn’t want me to leave her completely. She put forward the idea of Angelina moving to Lake Como, and that I live between the two houses. At first, I declined. It wasn’t fair to either woman. But my heart was with Angelina, and I couldn’t leave your mother with three small children alone.

Finally, it was agreed on. I would become your mother’s companion. I moved into the spare room of our family home. Your mother and I became just friends, and Angelina became my partner.

For many, many years, the three of us were happy with this arrangement. Your mother had my support and devotion, and I got to live with my sons as they grew. Angelina always had my full heart. But Angelina was missing a part of her life. At the age of thirty-two and running out of time, she wanted a child.

I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears as I read on.

My haunted eyes rise to meet Giuliano, a tear rolls down my face and then drops onto the letter in front of me, I blink to try to focus on the familiar handwriting.

No.

I wanted to give Angelina a family of her own. She had given up her whole life and family to be with me. To have half of me.


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