Laughing at our sons because they had stolen my whole face and left nothing of hers behind.
I hear her laughter so clearly for just a moment.
Then it is gone.
It always is.
No, my sons are not thinking of their mother or passing judgment on me for a moment of weakness.
They are waiting to see if I am happy.
Waiting to see if I finally found something beyond meetings and takeovers and endless work.
Something beyond the ghosts we do not discuss.
My chest tightens unexpectedly.
I clear my throat.
"You are both becoming much too sentimental."
Tomasso laughs.
Matteo shakes his head.
And despite fighting it all morning, I think about Victoria sitting in her kitchen, probably ignoring my instructions and opening her laptop.
A smile pulls at my mouth before I can stop it.
Tomasso immediately points.
"There."
"Papà is gone."
"He is."
I shake my head and walk into my office, firmly shutting the door behind me.
Their laughter follows me all the way to my desk.
Chapter Fifteen
Victoria
Monday morning, I walk into Conti Headquarters with eight hours of sleep behind me, actual food in my stomach, and an inbox that I’m scared to check.
Honestly, two out of three is still a miracle.
I did not work this weekend.
Not Saturday. Not Sunday.
Not one email. Not one spreadsheet. Not one harmless little glance at the access audit that would have become six hours of “just checking something.”
I had not intended to obey Mario’s note.
I am a grown woman, a licensed attorney, and the managing partner of my own firm. I do not take orders from impossible men who leave soup and notes in my refrigerator.
