Adopted – Episode 26

ADOPTED – Episode 26

© Happy William

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Portia’s POV

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Watching Sergio breaking numerous bottles on the wall in his room got me annoyed.

“Look, you’re a man. Deal with it!” I spoke.

He didn’t notice me, he just kept on drinking from a bottle and smashing it on the wall afterwards.

His room stank.

I was about to say something else, when my phone rang.

Felix Cannavaro?

What’s it now?

“Ciao (Hello).”

“Signora Salvatore… I think someone’s on to me,” he said in a hushed, shaky whisper.

I made a sign to Sergio, who didn’t notice, and entered my room, closing the door.

“What do you mean!? I paid you enough to cover your tail!”

“Sì. But there’s this guy, acting weird. He’s been following me recently and —”

“He’s tall and bulky, young and drives a black car.”

“Sì, Sì. You know him?”

“No. But I will. Meanwhile, lay low. Because you know what will happen to your precious family if you don’t and the faux will is discovered!”

I hung up abruptly and squeezed the phone in my hand.

Who was that bloody snooper?

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Anne’s POV

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Emilio looked up and caught me staring at him, and made a funny face, making me laugh out, and Prudence to chuckle behind us.

We were having a breakfast of scrambled eggs and noodles — my idea — at the kitchen table, which had become our favorite place to eat.

I’d woken up this morning smilingly. The flowers smelled nice, and their fragrance managed to seep in through my window. The sun had bathed the room in a blue light; like the first coming of dawn, and I had a feeling today was going to be good.

Eventually I bumped into Portia, who sneered at me. But that didn’t stop my optimism.

I spooned the eggs into my mouth and chewed slowly, savouring the taste and spiciness.

Smiling at Emilio, I said, “Now tell me that American food rocks.”

He shook his head.

“What!? accept defeat already. It’s so good that you lick your fork each time before you take another bite!”

He chuckled. “Cara, noodles originated from Italy.”

“Hey, no fair. You said same about pizza the other time!”

“Which other time?”

“The time we went to Nico’s and you acted all …weird…and…. jerk like.”

I squeezed my face and folded my arms across my chest.

To my surprise, HE LAUGHED! He ACTUALLY LAUGHED!

And it was such a beautiful sound too; throaty and husky at the same time, and it came out smoothly and rich—just like his voice. His eyes were crinkling at the corners, almost as if they were closed.

He should laugh more often, but of course I won’t tell him that.

“Why, what’s funny?” I asked, biting back my smile in response to his.

“I’m sorry —” he ended by clearing his throat, then grinned, “Just recalled something. About the ‘jerk’ part.”

“Care to share?”

“No.”

Then his expression changed, as if he regretted laughing and joking with me.

Arrgghh…so help me, sometimes I felt like taking hold of his handsome face and plastering one expression or emotion there.

He took a forkful of noodles, then looked up to catch me watching him. Again.

I could feel a blush creeping as he winked and held out his to me.

I shook my head.

“Go on, open up…”

“Mmm Mmm.”

“Say ahhhhhh….there you good!” he added when I ate it.

Prudence cleared her throat in the background and began whistling an off tune while pretending to look for something.

That woman….

Emilio’s phone rang, and he picked it up.

“Salvatore. Speak.”

I liked the way he answered, so brisk and businesslike. Quite different from the way he spoke to me. Made me feel special.

He listened for a while, then nodded.

“I’m home now. I’ll see you then.”

He hung up.

At my enquiring look, he said, “It’s something about the second will.”

Ugh, damn Anne.

The guy’s still married!

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Augusto’s POV

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After avoiding been hassled by the receptionist, I made my way to Cannavaro’s office and opened without knocking.

“What Is wrong with you!? I’ll call security!”

“I am security. Anyway, I forgot something of mine somewhere…. ah!” I said when I felt it under the table, “Right where I left it.”

“What’s that?” he asked incredulously.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s a recording tape. I had your phone bugged. Couldn’t trust you after our last visit. And for evidence, I had this little thingamabob fixed under your desk. Did the job.”

At his horrified look, I grinned. Then frowned.

“You’ll follow me to Salvatore Estate. Any attempt to escape, — I’ll find you. Now carry the null will, and the real one. And better tell the truth.”

He looked extremely scared as he stuttered, “I wil— but my— my family — she’ll hurt them…”

“Tell the truth to Emilio Salvatore. We might get your family covered.”

He nodded.

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Emilio’s POV

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I’d managed a normal facade with Anne throughout breakfast, not wanting her to get upset. But after Rheingold’s call, I was tense.

I paced in my study.

What if the second will turned out to be fake?

What if it didn’t?

And where was Cosima!?

She hadn’t been home in days now.

The doorbell rang and Prudence hurried to open it, ushering in Augusto Rheingold, followed closely behind by Felix Cannavaro, looking timid.

I shook hand with Augusto, and managed a curt nod with Cannavaro.

Then I asked a maid to call down every member of the family. Portia, looking sleepless, Sergio looking rough, Prudence, tense. Even Felipe and Vittorio were there.

I wanted every eye there.

Except Anne of course.

She’d gone through enough.

“What’s this now?” Portia demanded, eyes trained specifically on Cannavaro.

“Mr Cannavaro has something to say, don’t you?” Rheingold said.

Cannavaro nodded shakily.

“Sì, Sì. I do. About Late Leonetti Salvatore’s will.”

My eyes narrowed on him.

Felipe and Vittorio exchange looks.

“It’s a fake!” he blurted out after silence.

“What?” Prudence gasped.

I knocked a fist on my thigh and stood up roughly, running my hand through my hair as I fought for calm.

Because in that moment, I felt like punching his thin wire-rimmed glasses into his face.

“Damn it, spill!” I said.

“It — it was Signora…”

I didn’t see his eyes meet with Portia’s.

“Signora Cosima Salvatore.”

Gasps again.

I stared at him.

“Are you sure it was Cosima?” Rheingold asked, voicing out my question.

Cannavaro nodded. “She threatened me with her father’s position. My career, my family. She was desperate to have you. I’m so sorry Signor Salvatore, I —”

I held up a hand to silence him.

“Where’s she now?”

“She ran away when she found out I was discovered. I don’t know where.”

But the Cosima I know would never do something like that.

Or had she really changed to that extent?

I didn’t even know what to believe.

“So what does this mean now?” Portia asked.

“I’ve inherited already. It doesn’t matter,” I said, and dismissed everyone.

To Cannavaro; “The only reason I’m not making sure you’re jobless, career less, and useless is because of your history with my father. I’ll decide if I still want you handling Salvatore’s Wineries and Estates legal issues.”

I waved him off.

To Rheingold; “Something doesn’t add up.”

“The Cosima bit,” Felipe suggested and I nodded.

Rheingold said, “Do you want me to look into it?”

I nodded. “I want to know from her why she did it. If she did it.”

The three of us shook hands.

“We should gather for a drink sometime,” Felipe suggested again.

Rheingold laughed. “Yeah. We can catch up. So I’ll know who are the special people in each of your boring lives.”

“Whoa,” said Felipe pointing to me, “He’s the one who’s smitten. Not me.”

“Says the guy who spends every moment on the plantation talking to Sophia,” I said with sarcasm.

He slapped my back and strode quickly away before I could realize that he did, and Rheingold, laughing too, got into his car and drove off.

I tucked my hands in my pants pockets.

So now I wasn’t married to Cosima anymore.

What did this mean?

Instinctively, I looked up towards Anne’s window and smiled.

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Felix Cannavaro’s POV (The Lawyer)

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After killing the engine once I got in my driveway, I laid my head on the steering wheel and thought of what big a fool I was.

As soon as Augusto, the PI, told me to follow him, a message from Portia came into my phone.

“””””” I know you’re caught. Pin it all on Cosima Rufelli. Cook up whatever story, say she bribed you and had run away. And don’t mess up twice or else…”””””

I wasn’t planning on listening to her.

But when I arrived, and Cosima was nowhere to be found, with Portia making threatening eye contacts, I had to lie.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the door. Then I paused.

Something was off.

Usually, when my kids (three of them) heard my car pull up and horn, they’d scramble down and fling the door open with giggles and smiles. And my wife would stand in the doorway.

Maybe they were unaware. I didn’t horn after all.

I turned the knob and got into a dark house with the curtains drawn together.

Cinda, my wife, always liked them apart for the sunrays and cool air to seep in and brighten things up.

Cautiously, I stepped further into the sitting room….

And my bag dropped to the floor in shock when I saw Cinda, Christeene, my oldest daughter, and Toma, my son, tied up with gags over their mouths.

And Isobel, my youngest three year old daughter was in between the laps of Portia Salvatore, with two hefties beside her.

She was twisting a knife in her hand, and smoothening Isobel’s hair while the poor child busied herself with Portia’s beaded necklace.

“I see you’ve come to join out party, Felix,” she sneered.

“I did what you asked Signora. Release my family!”

“Oh, but you didn’t. You almost soiled everything I’ve worked hard for!”

“Please Signora….”

“Shut up,” she said lowly.

She picked up Isobel’s hand and began feeling it, twisting it, and turning it over.

Isobel gave her an innocent smile and said in Italian, “A friend of papà. Come to see mamà. We play hide and seek. I hide well. A friend no see me first, but see mamà, Chreesteenee, Toma. Then she say she hold me. I play well.”

She beamed up at me, and then at Portia.

“That’s right sweetie. You played well. Now I’ll bestow on you a gift you’ll never forget, that anytime you look at it, you will remember.”

She held up Isobel’s pinkie….

“Noooo!” I yelled when I realized what she was going to do.

I made to lung forward, but the goons held me back.

My wife and kids were screaming too from their throat and Cinda made pleading noises to Portia, who ignored.

The knife met with Isobel’s skin in a thin slice.

The first drop of blood.

My princess looked up confused at everyone.

“Pinky finger swears?” she asked in confusion as she stared at her blood.

Portia shrieked a laugh, “I doubt you’ll be doing that sweetie.”

So saying, she swiped the knife forcefully across Isobel’s finger, and it came tumbling on the floor in front of me.

Isobel’s began to scream and wail loudly.

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Emilio

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“Did you hear?” I asked Anne once she opened her door after I knocked.

She nodded slowly, eye’s staring at me.

“So?” she asked softly.

“So,” I repeated lamely. “The marriage to Cosima was null and void.”

“I see.” she said simply.

Damn this girl!

I’d worked up a lot of energy to come and tell her this, and she’s treating it lightly?

To hell with it all.

To her obvious surprise, I took her hands in mine, and she gasped looking searchingly in my eyes.

“Do you know what this mean, Anne?”

“I — Well, I really don’t —”

“It means we’re free. We could start over again, mia tesoro.”

She searched my eyes again. “And Cosima?”

“She ran away. Guilty conscience,” I added.

Anne took a deep breath, then smiled.

“I’d love for us to start over,” she said in a small voice, and I placed a kiss on her forehead.

“This time we’ll do it the right way,” I said.

Even tell the truth.

That was the thread by which this ‘starting over’ hung on.

I’m going to tell her.

Just not yet.

Maybe never.

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Cannavaro

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I watched helplessly as Cinda and the kids tried to cheer Isobel up, and also clean the blood clotting on the floor.

Portia had gone an hour ago, leaving me with a very guilty conscience and a sad house.

“Why papà?” Chisteene wailed. “Why would Signora Salvatore do something like that?”

“I …I don’t know piccolo (child).”

Cinda shot me a look that said she didn’t trust me.

I returned my gaze to my bleeding child and applied pressure to the wound.

Now she’ll be missing a finger.

What would she think when she’s old enough to under stand?

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Prudence

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Portia dumped a pair of latex gloves into the trashcan.

I could see stains of blood on it.

“Get me a glass of water, Prudence. I’m hot.”

I brought her a glass of chilled water and watched her as she drank it all.

“What did you do?” I asked finally.

She shrugged, “What I had to,” she replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You bribed Cannavaro to change the will!” I shot out, just realizing.

“Goodness Pru, you’re shouting.”

“What did you do?” I asked again.

She picked up her jacket and made to leave the kitchen.

“It isn’t everything you must know. I’m starting to doubt your ability to keep your mouth shut. And you don’t want to get on my bad side. You know what I am capable of.”

She walked away.

I sighed.

Sadly, I did.

I was a fool to have gotten mixed up with Portia.

I’d been the Salvatore’s nanny for years now, but it all started when Portia was married to Leonetti.

I want out. My conscience curses me for keeping quiet.

But sadly, I can’t speak up.

To be continued

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