Her heels clicked the floor, insinuating the urgency of reaching the place.
"Good morning, boss," said Safiya. "It is not—a good one." She said, pulled out the printed document from her laptop bag and dropped it on the table.
"Oh-oh," Yusuf handed his wife a cup of coffee before sitting down while she went through the document.
"Who added Carmelo Conti to my guest list?" She asked, the fire still burning bright from the competition they had at the auction last night. That son of a—whatever. She shook her head.
"What? He truly is here." Safiya blurted. "Um... that would be me." Yusuf raised his free hand, and both her eyes and his wife's eyes snapped at him, waiting.
He placed down his cup. "Look, I know that the family rivalry goes way back since forever or something like that, but you need to think of the bigger picture."
Chiara sat down, facing him. "And so, you decided to think up this big picture for me?" She pursed her lips and turned to his wife.
"Remind me, Safiya. Who is the boss here again?" Safiya pointed at her. Guilt was written all over her face as though she were the one who did it.
"Fine, I'm sorry for overstepping my authority. But think about it, the top influencers and investors of fashion and art nowadays, apart from your family, are the Contis. And we both know how much power they hold in the industry currently. Carmelo's presence at the event would cause a bit of a ruckus..."
She arched her brow at him. "A bit you said?"
"Alright, it would be an issue, but think of the brighter side too. He'll bring a significant amount of influence to our gallery and help us retain potential buyers and investors. You studied business, you know the math of it, so please try and understand how big this is for Terra & Tela, and for its future." Yusuf lowered his head. "Either way, I'm sorry."
Chiara shut her eyes, massaging her temples. A deep sigh left her mouth. "Fine, then, he can come. Finalize it so we can send the invitations out. And I'm not sending it to him. You brought him up, you deal with it." She got up and headed upstairs to her office.
"Yes, boss," he replied.
Now that she gave it a thought... Yusuf had a point, and she was so stupid for a second to care about the business competition between the two families when Antonio cared nothing about her. Since the first day we'd met. Hell, he'll be happy to kill her, too.
She'd love to see him try to come that day.
She eased down on her chair, sighing.
This morning, she received the information about the items she'd bought yesterday at the auction. She'd given them two different locations to send them over. Hers would be sent over tomorrow to Marino house, while Enzo would receive his, too, eventually.
She hasn't replied to any of his calls and texts since last night. And she could only imagine how much he seethed at her actions.
A smile etched on her lip, finalizing the order of a beautiful mini bag she'd found on the socials. Tonight's family dinner was surely going to be fun. She thought.
****
She went back home earlier than usual, refreshed herself, and then took her Mamma out in the garden for their girls' stroll.
Her mother only stayed in and never found any problem with it. Chiara truly hated the person Antonio has made her mother to be.
The sun shone so bright, her flowy dress dancing with the soft breeze as she adjusted the shawl draped around her mother's shoulders.
The garden was vast and all covered with green grass. Antonio, Marco, and Luca were situated at the gazebo. And behind it was a moon-shaped pool. They were just a few seconds away from them, talking about none of her business.
"The weather is nice today. Thank you for taking me out." Her mother intertwined their hands, flashing her small smile. She remembered seeing her last tooth when she used to smile in her memories.
She looked ahead. "You know that you can always stroll on your own, and you don't always need Marco or me to be here for it to happen, right?" She wished she could learn to be herself again.
And it hurt so much having the man who caused so much damage into their lives living happily without a care in the world. She glared at Antonio as he laughed over the phone.
"I know." She murmured.
The place was filled with different garden trees, and they went all the way to the end of the property.
They moved towards the flowers, the splendid part of it all. "See, even the flowers missed you. They're all withered." She said and crouched down and pulled them off.
Her mother smacked the back of her head.
"Ouch, Mamma!" She cried out, looking up at her.
"That is not how you do it. You're ending the chance if it's growing again, you fool." She crouched beside her and reached for the stem before pinching her fingers ever so gently, cutting the withered ones. And there she goes.
These flowers were her babies before she shut herself off. "This is how you do it." Laura said.
Chiara mimicked what she did, "Like this? Like this?" Smiling as she purposefully did what she'd done earlier.
"Chichi, no! You are ruining them. Christ, how did you even become a CEO with zero sense of following a simple instruction?" She uttered, shaking her head.
"Here, let me try again." She teased.
Laura pushed her hands back, followed by stern glares. And she needed no further explanation.
That was definitely 'Get away from my damn flowers at once!' Loud and clear. She chuckled, watching her clear them up.
She glanced back at the men. They were engrossed with their work and did not even pay them attention.
"Mamma." She started.
"Mhm?"
"How fast can you run?"
Laura lifted her head, eyebrows drawing together. "Not so fast, I'm sure. I've gotten old just in case you are blind."
"But you were a marathoner."
"I was, a long time ago."
"Race with me."
"What? No. No, I can't."
"Why not? It's just a race."
"I—" Laura looked at the gazebo, pure worry painted on her face.
"I never asked you for anything, Mamma. Just this."
"But they—"
"Forget about everyone else and just race with me, for God's sake. Race with your daughter, like good old times."
Laura looked at her daughter and sighed. "Like good old times."
Chiara smiled along with her as they made their way to the center of the ground. "If you get to that shade tree, I'll do whatever you say for a week."
Laura narrowed her eyes. "Ooh, you better keep your words, young lady."
"Ready?" Chiara asked, watching her mother take a long breath before nodding. "One, two, three, go!"
And so they ran. They ran together, like the old, better times. Where their lives were better, simpler, and wholesome than the current ones.
Chiara thought her mother might have gotten older, but her legs remembered who she was. "Mamma, slow down!" She shouted.
"Never! You'll be my maid for a week, Chichi." Laura replied, giggling.
"That makes you happy? You're such a bad mother, Laura, so mean." Chiara nicked her leg with a thorn, but swallowed down the pain.
This moment was very emotional and nostalgic for her. They haven't done this since she was—since forever.
She watched her mother drop down under the shading tree, "I won!" she cheered.
Her mother just cheered as she plopped down near her. She couldn't believe it. "You always did," Chiara uttered. Both of them were breathing heavily as their chests heaved up and down.
"Honey, you're crying?" Laura suddenly asked.
Chiara quickly turned away and wiped her face. "What? No. I'm not your crybaby anymore, for your information." Her heart squeezed tight. How could she tell her?
"Chichi, look at me." Laura pressed her shoulder. "I'm just happy, okay?" Chiara said once she fully turned to her.
"Did something happen? Did—did Antonio hit you again? Where did he hit you? Show me. Let me see." Her mother said restlessly. Chiara held her panicking face in between her hands.
"Mamma, calm down. And no, nothing happened." Liar. "Are you lying to me, honey?" Laura's eyes began to tear.
"No, I'm not, Mamma." Chiara sighed, "Stop crying, please." She pulled her mother in for a hug, patting her back as she sobbed in her arms.
Tears brimmed in her eyes. This was not the first time she held her crying in her arms, but she could never get used to the feeling.
The sound of her cries burned every inch of her heart. Every single vibration of her body seeped into hers in the form of pain. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Please stop crying, Mamma."
"That demon. I'm so sorry, honey." Laura uttered, her voice so broken that something shattered further inside Chiara.
Of course, you could never lie to her mother. She knew everything just by looking at them. But that didn't mean she'd burden her further with her life.
The thing was that her mother has been through a lot in the name of husband. She saw her forced to sleep with the man that she didn't love or want. She watched her getting beaten up for resisting.
She watched her get ignored after voicing her opinions.
She watched her bleed, and she'd seen her bruise healing only to get opened up all over again. She heard her mother talking to herself, wishing she could die, and how much relief it would bring her more than living with the torments the man was putting her through.
So how could she?
How could she tell her what has been happening to her? How could she tell her that he has been using and emotionally blackmailing her? How could she tell her that seeing her hurt ripped her apart, shattered and burned her insides?
How could she tell her that she cried every night for herself and for her, and that she was tired? How could she tell her that she was sorry and wished to die too? How could she tell her about her pain when she knew she was already going through it? How could she tell her that it was getting hard for her to breathe? How could she?
She simply couldn't.