6|A Glass of Wine

Morning came. The rays of the sun passed through the glass door of the balcony. Its warmth prevailed inside my room, caressing my skin. I’m enjoying the last of the sun before winter, yet my eyes remain open. I’m in deep thoughts because of what I heard last night.

That agreement still bothered me. What could it be? From the way my parents spoke of it, I’m sure it’ll have a great impact on our family, or if what I fear is right, on our family business.

The Lucianos are a long-time friend and affiliate of the Walkers. I grew up with the tight bond of our families and as far as I know, it all began with Grandpa Josiah and Grandpa Mansueto Luciano. I was never interested in business, and I’m glad that my parents never forced me to drift deeper into it like what Pier did with his sons. The Luciano Corporation and Walker Corporation have ventured into businesses together, just like the LW Brewery and so much more.

The smart lock of my bedroom door made a silent hiss. I sighed, knowing well that it was my mother.

There are only five of us who know the combination to my room. My parents, Penny, Erik, and I but Erik has never stepped inside my room. There’s no need for him to protect me here. Sometimes, I even think that the old man wishes for me to stay indoors all the time so he wouldn’t worry about answering to my father for my actions.

I turned on my side, meeting her gaze as she sauntered in her floral printed maxi wrap dress. She’s too beautiful at six in the morning, brown hair already tied in an elegant updo while here I am, a mess, looking ten years older than my actual age.

“How are you feeling, honey?” She sat on the edge of my bed, reaching for my forehead with the back of her hands, checking my temperature.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I propped myself up, sitting crossed leg, tucking my messy locks behind my ears. “Are you… are you and Dad disappointed with me?”

“What?” she breathed out, scooting closer to me, taking my hands in hers. “Why would you think that way, Zia? We are disappointed in Calvin for what he did.” She sighed, caressing my cheeks. “Your father and I will have dinner with Pier and Francine later to discuss the wedding and what their son did to you.”

“Mom…”

She shook her head. “They need to know what Calvin did, Zia. None of this is your fault. You’ve been faithful to the engagement, right?”

I looked at her shocked. “Of course, mom…” I said with teary eyes. “I-I love him so much.”

“Oh, honey.” Her motherly warmth enveloped me in the safety of her love. It’s nice to tell someone how much pain I was nursing and receive some love back in return. But it doesn’t change anything. The truth remains. I love Calvin and I wasn’t enough for him.

Since Nadia died, I’ve always felt so alone even inside this mansion where we have over 100 staff. No one, apart from Erik and Penny, really knew me beyond the title of being the princess of this family. The sole heiress to the Walker fortune.

However comforting it was to have my mother’s arms around me, I can’t bring myself to pour my heart out to her fully. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever talked to anyone about what I’m really feeling apart from my sister.. even in her grave.

My best friend Penny is another issue, though. I might have to talk to her in the coming days, but I have to deal with this problem first.

~~

At six in the evening, dressed in my black ribbed button-front dress, I waited for mom and dad to descend from their room. The dinner will take place at one of our restaurants in the city named after my sister at seven p.m. sharp.

My parents gazed at one another, confused at seeing me waiting for them. I gave them each a hug, and my father spoke first.

“You don’t have to go with us, Zia,” he said, buttoning his gray suit jacket. His blue eyes, one that reflects my own, gaze at me with pity. Something I don’t appreciate. I hate being at the receiving end of someone’s sympathy. All my life, I’ve lived to the expectation of what Levi Walker’s daughter should be. The first family rule is that Walker’s are no quitter.

“I want to be there, Dad,” I replied curtly.

“Alright,” Dad mumbled, “just know that we will not allow you to wed that boy no matter what they say.”

~~

We arrived first at the restaurant, the maître d’, Mr. Rome guided us to the family lounge. Since Nadia’s is a 3-Star Michelin restaurant, it takes weeks, sometimes even a month, to get a reservation here. My parents hold meetings and conferences on the second floor of the restaurant most of the time, but it usually serves as our private lounge.

People watched as we walked by, some curious, and some already knew who we were - they knew my parents, but I doubt if they really know who I am. I wish for it to remain that way, but because of this wedding fiasco, I’m sure that my face will be plastered in all magazines and tabloids once the news breaks out.

Seated at the long table for twelve, we waited for the Lucianos to arrive, but I already asked Mr. Rome for a glass of Domaine Leroy. Mom gave me a stern look. I responded with a shrug of my shoulders, hearing the door to the private lounge opening and closing.

My side remained facing the entrance, never bothering to peer at the people walking towards the table. The rigidness of my mother’s body as she glanced at whoever entered the hall tells it all.

He’s with them.