Ten years later, beautiful Fiorella had become a beautiful young lady. She was as pretty as her mother had been. Yes, after that horrible night, her mother didn't return. They said she had died of an illness, but Fiorella knew it was a lie.
Everyone came to see the little girl and offered their condolences, but she only cried. From that point on, the girl grew timid and withdrawn, always kind and obedient for fear that her father would kill her, too, like he did her mother.
Within a year, her father remarried a woman named Milena, although she had already moved into the house with all her children within a month of her mother's death.
Milena was mean and cruel to little Fiorella, and her stepsister, Francesca, was no different—she was as wicked as her mother.
Fiorella was miserable, living a life tormented by her stepsister. Her stepbrothers were five and six years older than she, and they weren’t taken in by their mother, always treating Fiorella well when Milena wasn’t around. However, for Fiorella's sake, they treated her horribly in front of their mother and Francesca.
And so the girl grew. Both she and Francesca were instructed in every activity imaginable—ballet, music, languages, etiquette. Both were being prepared to be excellent wives, although Francesca wasn’t good at any of it. She considered them all to be insignificant, wanting only to be the wealthy wife of one of her father's associates. Why bother learning such stupid things?
Fiorella, on the other hand, was a very dedicated student, a true lady of society, and for that reason, she was the center of attention. Both sisters held the same social standing, they were beautiful, and they had beautiful bodies, but Fiorella grew up to be a gem in both education and manners. That said, she hated that world and detested violence.
Upon turning seventeen, the son and heir of one of the Cosa Nostra bosses set eyes on her. The young man was handsome and gallant, and he wanted only the best for himself. Francesca was a frivolous and vain young woman—self-centered and spoiled. At seventeen, she was in her final year of school before university. Fiorella, on the other hand, was already in her first year.
An exception had been made for her due to her intelligence, and that was why she was further along in her schooling. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was also intelligent and studying business along with anything related to numbers. She loved it, along with computers and everything about technology.
Beautiful Fiorella had captured Italian heir Reginald Fabrizzi's heart. He had fair skin, tall, green eyes, blond hair, and a well-built body—a true Adonis.
Reginald had been in love with her from the moment he saw her and began to court her. The man was truly in love… The first thing he did was obtain permission to enroll in the university with her. The young woman didn’t look at him. She was extremely shy, and her clothing was very conservative—knee-length skirts and sweaters over collared, short-sleeved shirts, along with wide-leg jeans and turtlenecks or long dresses with sweaters. The girl's style was elegant yet modest, and even still, she was beautiful.
The beautiful girl had fair skin, blue eyes, and light brown hair. She was truly an angel in both beauty and demeanor, undoubtedly a treasure in that dark world.
Fiorella:
Day after day, the young man approached her, showering her with attention, surprises, and red roses. Every day, he brought her a beautiful red rose, as it was one of her favorites.
"Hello, little one, beautiful as ever, as well as pretty," the handsome young man asked.
"I'm very well, young man, and thank you for the compliment," she said with a smile.
"It’s not a compliment; you are a beautiful bambina,” he replied with a smile.
“Here, take this little rose, which is not as beautiful as you, but it accentuates your beauty." The young woman sighed and smiled.
“Thank you again, but I must be honest with you; you are very handsome, but…” she said hesitantly.
"Thank you for the compliment," he said, and she smiled shyly.
"As I was saying, I come from a family where I'm not allowed to speak to anyone unless they’re my fiance, and that is decided by my family." He smiled. The girl's values were amazing, and that made him fall even more in love with her. He was four years older than her, and he wanted her as his queen.
The young man was aware of her customs and had already made his move by asking for the girl's hand in marriage from her father in the company of his own.
"I know who you are, and I've spoken to your father so that one day you can be my wife." He was direct, and her eyes widened as she smiled.
“Like they say… you are from that cruel world,” she asked unintentionally. Although shy, sometimes words would escape her lips that made her wonder if she had actually meant to say them out loud.
"You are direct, my beautiful little one, but yes, although not yet, and besides, I have no choice. We would get married after I’ve taken my place as boss, and that’s still a few years away," he said, and she smiled.
"So, the decision has been made, but I don’t like violence. I detest it." He touched her cheek, and she pulled away.
"Don’t worry, I would never hurt you. You know… I've liked you for a long time, but well, I was just waiting for the right moment, and that time is now," he said flirtatiously.
"Well, but we could get to know each other before any kind of courtship, besides the fact that we have to be married for anything more." Her smile was genuine.
"You are perfect, my beautiful little one."
From that moment on, he began to get to know her better. He continued to give her gifts, from small teddy bears to larger ones. Six months passed before their first kiss, and that day was the most special one for him.
The young man would visit her at home and would also take her to and from school. Everything was so beautiful between them. However, this created a silent enemy for them, someone who couldn't stand little Fiorella. Her stepsister, Francesca, was attracted to Reginald and wanted him for herself.
"Mom, it’s not fair that she gets to marry him, and I’m stuck with Danilo! No, I want him," Francesca protested angrily.
"Calm down, my love. You asked me for Danilo, and we got him for you. How is it that you now want this young man?" her mother said.
"I want him, and that's that, Mom. I want that man for myself," she said hysterically.
From that moment on, a plan began to take shape to destroy Fiorella.
Fiorella's father didn’t love her; in fact, he hated her, even more so because she was the spitting image of that traitor. He had never shown her any affection, only to his other daughter. However, he wouldn’t give in to his daughter's whims; he had given his word, and business was business.
Francesca:
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