09

Faust

I CAME to the kitchen the next morning at my usual time. My son was there with Zia, but Francesca was still absent. She was too sick from grappa to eat with us last night and was apparently still not awake.

I did not like.

Giulio and Francesca looked happy yesterday in the tasting room. Unable to help myself, I watched the security footage, taking in the way she smiled at him. Studying the curve of her lips as she laughed. It was clear that she liked my son, and I told myself that was a good thing. A sign of their future together, a team working towards the common goal of the Ravazzani family's future success.

I kissed Zia's cheeks and made a cup of espresso. Giulio was on his phone, scrolling through some kind of video. He had left for work last night and, from the looks of it, was just getting home. - Hard night? - I asked.

Out of respect, he hung up the phone and gave me his full attention. — No. I stayed at the club until around three. So we had a shipment to oversee. Everyt