Page 26 of Until It Ends

I glance at the cigarette lighter he absentmindedly plays with, its Cipriano family crest serving as a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play. It's an omen disguised as a trinket, a symbol of their arrogance and desire to maintain control. Rocco's restless energy, combined with the lingering scent of the cigar he holds, only amplifies my discomfort.

"Now that we are all together as a family," Polo begins, his voice warm with forced enthusiasm, "I believe it's time to discuss our plans for the future."

Rocco scoffs, his voice laced with skepticism. "Plans? What plans?" he retorts, his eyes fixed on me with disdain. "Valeria here is too soft for any real business dealings. She'll only get in the way."

Polo fixes Rocco with a stern gaze, his tone firm. "Rocco, you underestimate your sister," he counters, his voice unwavering. "Valeria may have a gentle nature, but she has proven herself capable. In fact, I have plans for her to oversee a portion of our business operations."

Rocco rolls his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "You can't be serious," he grumbles, dismissing my abilities with a wave of his hand. "She's not cut out for this. Send her back to be a whore for that Argentieri punk."

"Rocco!" Polo pounds the table. "Don't make me ask you to leave. This was supposed to be a family dinner."

Rocco huffs and scarfs down the whole glass of wine.

I interject softly, keeping my composure despite the storm brewing within me. "I'm not a fucking whore for anyone," I say, my voice steady. "I have received a solid education and gained experience working as a real estate agent. I'm very independent and have been for quite some time and I need no man. I'm more than capable of taking on any responsibility."

Enzo, who has remained relatively silent, finally speaks up, his tone measured. "Valeria is right," he says, his eyes darting between us. "We shouldn't underestimate her abilities. She is a Cipriano by blood."

Polo nods in agreement, his gaze shifting between his children. "Indeed. Valeria's role within our family business is important, and I believe she has the potential to bring a fresh perspective to our operations," he states, his tone reassuring. "She will mentor with me, as well as with both of you."

Rocco crosses his arms, a stubborn look on his face. "Fine, if that's what you want," he concedes, though his tone still carries a hint of resentment. "But don't come crying to me when it all falls apart."

Polo's expression hardens as he counters, "I have full confidence in Valeria's abilities. She will prove herself worthy, just as I believe both of you will continue to contribute to our family's success. When we go back to Italy, I fully intend to introduce Valeria to the boss as one of my official heirs."

As the conversation continues, the atmosphere becomes laced with a sense of coded language, references to business deals and alliances that are carefully masked. Polo, Rocco, and Enzo talk in hushed tones, their words filled with veiled meanings and hidden agendas.

My mind races to decipher the underlying motives behind their words. The dynamics of this family are far from simple, and the power struggles and delicate alliances simmer beneath the surface. I must be cautious and alert, for this is a world where trust is scarce and danger lurks in every shadow.

As the coded conversation dances around me, I absorb every detail, taking mental notes of their intricate web of alliances and rivalries. I know that in this world of covert operations and calculated moves, I must tread carefully.

For now, I remain a silent observer, offering only brief responses when directly spoken to. My thoughts are consumed by the intricate dance of power and deception, and I brace myself for the challenges that lie ahead. I am Polo Cipriano's daughter, but in this treacherous game, I must also be a player who knows when to act, when to retreat, and when to seize the opportunities that arise.

Rocco abruptly rises from the table, his restlessness palpable. "Excuse me if you will. I have a meeting in an hour." His statement feels contrived, a convenient excuse to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the dinner. I sense his urgency, his desire to be elsewhere, away from the facade of family.

As he walks away, his lighter catches my eye once again. It is a symbol of his true nature, a constant reminder of the darkness that resides within him. I can't help but wonder what secrets lie hidden behind his enigmatic facade, what devious plans he conceives with that flickering flame.

Polo, oblivious to the tension that fills the air, attempts to maintain a sense of normalcy. But I can no longer ignore the truth. The Cipriano family, with all its power and wealth, is tainted by an insidious evil that seeps through their veins. They may call themselves family, but I know that true family extends beyond mere bloodlines.

I rise from the table soon after. With a silent nod to Polo, I make my exit, leaving behind the lingering tension and the twisted dynamics of my new family.

Twenty-Five

Valeria

It's been over a week since I received the portfolio for Veritas Mercantile and I've studied it from cover to cover like my life depends on it. I know it's only a snapshot from before the Argentieris took the business but the details inside the reports give me an idea of what I may be responsible for.

I've underestimated Polo to an extend and he's been showing me the ropes. Of course, I'll never be a soldier like some of his men or a high-ranking lieutenant like his sons, but I can become an accomplished business woman.

Polo still doesn't reveal to me how he plans to snatch Veritas from the Argentieri's clutches. He says I should not worry about that part because the work is too dirty.

I don't know how I feel about making an enemy of Dante. If this happens, I know he'll hate me. Or will he? That's what I want isn't it? After all, we would never have lived together in peace. Long ago, his father intended to enslave me and I almost killed him for it. Polo Cipriano, my real father, and Leonardo Argentieri are rivals. Dante and I would never work out.

And plus, I caught wind of his father's will to wed Dante to an Italian Princess, some girl named Bianca Binetti. He'd be better off with her. Not me.

I sit on the window bench, watching as the sun slowly dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room. The gentle hues of the fading light reflect the tumultuous thoughts swirling within me. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions, but amidst it all.

Even after everything, my hand subconsciously tightens around the stolen cell phone tucked away in my pocket. It represents a lifeline, a connection to the one person who can truly comprehend the storm raging within me. But I can't call him. I have to let him go, because after I get what I want, he'll want nothing to do with me.

Lost in my contemplation, I am abruptly jolted from my thoughts as the door swings open with force. It's Rocco.

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