Monica
Failed
"Tell me everything!" Matteo snapped as soon as he entered my apartment.
He was furious and uncomfortable walking around in front of me. I was dizzy at what he was doing so I left my seat.
"What exactly is your plan?" Matteo asked.
"I already told you," I lazily replied. Over and over again.
"Monica, you know it's not easy for you to do. You're going to ruin yourself!" He growled.
"Who cares? I have nothing to lose! I just need to take back the things that were taken from me." My voice rose as well.
I came back with the complete decision And I will never break my promise to Papa that I will do everything to recover everything that was taken from me.
Either way. I no longer care about my fate, all that matters to me is that I recover what I lost. Carluccio will be restored.
"By being married to someone you didn't even know?" He asked.
"I don't care. I don't care anymore." I said.
"Marriage is not a joke, cousin." Matteo said.
"I know. I am very much aware of that." I have been thinking about this matter for a long time. Because of the benefits I get, I can also easily recover the Carluccio, my family name.
I went to the kitchen and opened the cupboard. I reached for a bottle of wine and took out two goblets. I poured some in the first goblet and I translated how my father taught me how to drink wine properly, and that's what I did.
"Do you know what my father told me before he died?" I asked bitterly. It's hard to relive painful memories that don't go away from my mind.
I turned to face him, "he said that he only did these for my own sake. And some ruthless man put a bullet inside his head." Every word I utter is tough. Sure to feel anger and resentment.
"And that happened right in front of me," I gritted my teeth.
Every night, whenever I close my eyes, I always see Papa's eyes before he is killed. Talking, sad, worried, and scared. He wanted to say something but was not heard due to lack of time. And every time I think of his horrible death, the fire of anger burns in my chest.
"Please, Monica. If you want Carluccio back, do it the right way." He said.
"I no longer care if what I'm doing is right or wrong. The only thing that matters to me is that I make up for everything I've lost. The things they took over from me. The things that built into my personality as part of Carluccio." I take another sip of the wine in my goblet.
"And when that happens, I will make sure that everyone who plotted to make my life miserable is held accountable. They can never get away with it." I was scared of my own utterance.
"Monica-"
"I will show them no mercy. Even if they beg under my feet." My eyes stared at the glass I am holding.
Matteo will never understand where I am coming from. He was not there when it happened. He didn't witness the guilt in my father's eyes while drowning in his own cold blood. He didn't see how I loathed myself because of people who keep sacrificing themselves for my own safety.
He will never understand why I am being like this because I don't want to fail again.
If my life is in danger, then I will protect myself. I will not depend on someone anymore.
It is two in the afternoon in Italy and I called my grandparents to see how they are doing. It is summer there, that's why they are sitting at the gazebo in the garden. Behind them are the green fields of Tuscany and the birds chirping in the background.
"Ciao grandpa, ciao nonna!" I greeted.
"Ciao amore mia, como stai?" My grandpa said while grandma was smiling at me.
"I'm good. I just arrived here yesterday." I answered.
They were happy to see me again. When Papa died, I will never forget how grandpa and grandma accompanied me in grief. We were all saddened by his death. We were all hurt.
I was the one who brought that news to them when I arrived in Italy on the day of my escape.
They don't want revenge, but I am not like them.
Because of their old age, I hired two private nurses for them. Whenever I am not at home, especially now, they will really need someone to take care of them.
Our conversation lasted longer because of grandma's many stories to me. She never runs out of things to say and even though she repeats what she says, I don't complain. She's happy when she tells stories so I don't stop her. When the sun rays came up in their place the nurses moved them inside the house. I waited as they sat on the sofa.
"Look cara! It is your father's favorite painting." Grandpa stopped from the painting of a lady lying on the hammock.
The painting was made by Giovanni Boldini, a late famous Italian portrait painter. The painting was beautiful because the way Giovanni painted it was awesome. He turned the background into dark colors of the leaves while the lady and the hammock stayed bright and illuminating. He made sure that the hammock was visible and the lady lying there was bright covered with light colors. The focus of the painting was the lady and the hammock.
"Oh yes! This was your father's favorite." Grandma said.
"He said that this was the scenario when he first met your mother. Lying on the hammock." Grandpa pointed to the lady in the middle representing my mother.
"That's what he said!" Grandma laughed.
They still remember the stories my father told them.
That's why there is a hammock hanging from two trees that will lead to the factory and vineyards. The question then formed in my mind where Mom and Dad actually first met.
As they sat on the sofa in our living room, their laptop landed in front of them. I saw Papa's urn when it was hit on the camera because it was just behind my grandma. I felt sad again when I remembered his death. Papa's ashes arrived wrapped in a box with our former assistant.
"What's with the sad face, cara?" Grandma asked.
"Do you still miss your father?" Very much, Grandpa.
My fingers brushed the tears that had fallen on my cheeks. I don't want them to see me cry anymore.
"It's okay, sweetie. We also misses your father." Grandpa comforted me.
I have always been alone since I was a babe. No mother, craving for father's attention, no siblings or friends. I grew up in foreign soil without knowing anyone. I am always lonely.
I intentionally woke up early because I will be going to the office. I will carry out the plan I have long thought of.
Traffic is not new to me even in the morning. With the large population here in Manila, most are still employees who travel to work every day. But it still feels different, especially that I've not been around here for eight years.
"Good morning, Mrs. Marchetti!" I stopped walking when the female receptionist of the building greeted me.
Mrs. Marchetti?
My step into the elevator of the building stopped. I slowly faced her and removed my shades. Now I can clearly see my surroundings. I gave her a wide and sweet smile.
"Good morning," I greet back.
Calling me by Paris' surname feels weird. This is the first time someone has called me by that name.
I continued walking and looked straight ahead.
"Marchetti? Isn't Carluccio her last name?"
"Why did you call her Marchetti?
"Who is Marchetti?"
"Mr. Paris Marchetti, the Italian investor who came here a year ago."
"That's his wife,"
"Wow!"
Some of what I heard before I stopped in front of the elevator.
The elevator rang as the door was about to open. I immediately went in and hit the right floor. The road to Francis' office was already on the way. I was really early so that I wouldn't be able to reach him so that I could carry out my purpose cleanly in his office.
As I walked, my heels made a sound. No one was in the hallway and it was really quiet this morning. I passed by the door of my cousin Matteo's office but I saw him sitting in his office while someone was writing on the paper.
"He's early," I wondered.
I just shrugged and continued walking. I am in front of his secretary's desk. She just arrived because I saw that her bag had just landed on her table. When she saw me, she suddenly stood up.
She said, "good morning, Mrs. Marchetti. How may I help you?"
"Is the President in?" I asked.
"Not yet, Ma'am. But he will be arriving within fifteen minutes." She answered.
Fifteen minutes. Enough time for me to execute my plan.
"Great! I'll just wait inside, then." I said.
I walked over to the door of Francis's office and turned the doorknob without hesitation. I heard his secretary's cry but it was too late because I had already entered.
The room is organized and designed simply. It was bright in my eyes because most of his furniture was white. There are glass tables in the middle of the sofas and one for him. It is also large and has part for his own pantry and restroom. There is also a mini library to my left.
Francis Miguel B. Rodriguez. Chairman.
Well, that suits him.
"Should I call Mr. Rodriguez to announce your arrival, Ma'am?" His secretary asked from behind me. She followed me inside.
I seem to have a hard time with what I would do if this one was here. I'm sure she'll stop me from what I will do and she'll be a hindrance. I turned and stared at her.
"No, I'm fine. I can just wait here." I sat on the single sofa.
"Would you like to drink something while waiting?" She questioned.
"Yes, actually." Perfect opportunity.
"You can tell me, Ma'am." She smiled at me.
"I would like a hot cappuccino," I requested.
She immediately moved towards Francis' pantry but I immediately stopped her.
"I don't like pantry-made coffees. Can you go to Starbucks?" I plead.
"But that's seven meters away from this building, Ma'am." That's correct.
Exactly. That's what I noticed. That's why I want you to go there.
I rummaged in my bag for my wallet and pulled out my credit card. I showed it to her. She seems to be having trouble thinking so I also took out a one hundred pesos bill with my black card.
"Use this. You can also buy your own coffee, don't be shy. Take your time." I smiled.
She was still embarrassed to accept my offer but eventually complied. When the office door closed, I immediately took off my bag and took off my coat. I walked the distance of the table and searched for whatever I was looking for.
It must be somewhere. I should locate that before the secretary or Francis arrived.
I was so happy that the drawers were not locked on his desk so I searched them without hesitation.
My heart was beating fast with excitement and haste. I need to do it quickly and cleanly. There should be no trace and everything should be in order. When I opened the remaining drawer that I had not yet inspected my lips parted. The black folder popped up in front of me.
This is it. This is what I am looking for.
I picked it up and opened it slightly. Here is all the information I will need. Here are also all the details I have to study to re -learn the trend of the company, especially that he is in charge now.
"This is it," I whispered.
The contents of this folder are the company's organizational plans, Carluccio's financial status, and future projects that he has not yet signed. I have to study it all.
I brought a big bag to put this long folder in. I had no choice but to fold it because my bag was still not big enough. I heard Francis 'voice talking to someone on his phone while walking. I was immediately aroused by the tension so I went back to his desk and put everything in order on it. I saw the shadow of his feet already opposite the door so I went back to the sofa and put on my coat. I sat there and took a deep breath.
"Yes, I understand. Give them what they want and don't worry about anything." He says. The door still doesn't open.
"They've worked hard, Finn. It's just natural to have that request." Who is it talking to and preventing from entering his office?
"They have no rest for a week. It's no joke to work in the sun to harvest grapes. Give them what they ask for." Is he talking about the workers at the vineyards? And what request?
"That's just a little party. Just tell Manang and she already knows what she's going to do." I even heard his slight laugh.
Did I hear correctly? He grants the request of the employees in the vineyards and mansion. He takes care of them as best he can.
"Yes, I will go. Just follow their request. I don't want to hear any more complaints from you." I saw that the doorknob had turned so I sat up straight.
When he said goodbye to someone, he finally opened the door. He stopped entering when he saw me sitting on the sofa while faking my smile. He looked at me and we straightened up before closing the door behind him.
"Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez." I greeted him.
"What are you doing here?" This is an open question. There is no emotion in what he says.
"Well, I came here to commend you." I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder.
He walked over to his desk and sat in his swivel chair. I was nervous as he held things and papers on top of his desk. When he looked at me I straightened up again. Even though my chest was pounding too much with nervousness I tried not to show it. My smiles cover my aching heart that wants to get out of my chest.
"Isn't my secretary here yet?" He asked. I could see its sharp gaze as it examined me.
"Oh she's already here. I just asked her to buy me a coffee since she offered me something to drink while waiting for you." I smiled again.
It just nodded as he opened his laptop. It was just like that and I was ignored again.
"Are you done commending me?" He suddenly asked without looking at me.
That was my excuse. I suddenly forgot when I saw him.
"I'm here Mrs. Marchetti." His secretary barged in the room.
Employees are pretty much oriented by my new name, huh?
She carried my requested coffee and a plastic for her own coffee. When she saw Francis already sitting in his swivel chair, she immediately hid the plastic behind her skirt.
"Good morning, sir." She greeted him. "Here is your coffee, Ma'am." She gave me coffee with my credit card.
"Keep the change," I said.
"I'll go now. Congratulations again, Mr. Rodriguez. You did great." I said.
When I closed the door of his office, I just let out my breath. I felt at ease as soon as I closed the door. But my nervousness returned when I met Matteo as I approached the elevator. I immediately covered my bag with my arm when I was about to take the folder from inside.
"Monica, what are you doing here?" He asked as soon as he got closer to me.
Should I tell him the truth?
"I just passed by. Have a little talk with Francis." I lied.
He turned his gaze to my bag. His eyes narrowed as he strained to reach for what was inside my bag. I immediately avoided his hand before he could grab my shoulder.
"What is that?" Referring to the paper showing in my bag.
When I looked at it, the Carluccio logo still appeared so I closed my eyes. I simply hid it while faking my laughter. Wondering what a good thing to say.
"Nothing," sabi ko. "Here! Take my coffee, I don't like it anymore." I offered him the coffee that Francis' secretary ordered from Starbucks.
When he accepted my coffee, the elevator opened just in time, so I entered immediately. Press the down button to the ground floor.
"See ya!" I said before the elevator door closed.
His face could not be painted. Asks and seems to want to know. He was confused by my actions and my frequent visits to the office. He shouldn't know what I'm up to. Because he will be a hindrance to me as well.
I was relieved when I got home in time. No one was following me and Francis didn't notice anything. I was relieved that he didn't even doubt my actions earlier.
"It is hard to do this alone, father." I frustratingly brushed my hair.
In front of me were the scattered papers lying on my desk. I've been studying it for a few hours and I haven't finished most of it. The night came and I also missed lunch.
"Is this how I'm supposed to do this?" I asked as I flipped the paper over.
And the most tricky part in these freaking papers is most of them are coded. I can't understand a thing because as I tried to read it, I only had headaches. But I recognized these characters, and I bet that these were morse codes. I will try to contact one of my friends who knows it and ask for help.
I knew morse codes before back when I was in high school because of my vocational major. But I don't usually pay attention to learning it because I find it boring. And it's just giving me nightmares.
My phone rang because of my cousin's call. I thought twice before answering it but in the end, I reached for it and slid the answer button.
"What?" I kindly answer him.
I can't understand what I'm doing and this one still bothers me.
"Where are you?" He questioned. I could hear the echo of his voice from the other line.
"I'm in the unit. Why?" I was annoyed by the way I answered.
I heard a knock on my door. I turned off Matteo's call without letting him know. I don't expect any visitors at these times. The cleaners on the other hand are visiting weekly if they go to each unit and not at this time. I approached the door but I did not open it.
"Who is it?" I yelled.
"It's Francis," the calm voice behind the door said.
Francis? What is he doing here?
"What are you doing here?" I gripped the door handle but I still wouldn't open.
"Open the door," he commanded.
Am I hearing it right? Did he just command me to open my door? Did he just mandate me?
Shit!
"Why would I open my door for you?" I was taunted.
I went back to my desk to organize and hide the papers along with the folder I had taken from his office. I don't know the reason he's here and really at this time yet.
"Use my key," I heard Matteo's voice from outside.
He's also here? That's why he asked where I was.
Che diavolo!
"What are they doing in my house?" I whispered.
My legs were shaking in the rush of what I was doing. I went to my bedroom to hide them in my walk-in cabinet. I made sure no one could see that. When I returned to my living room my door was just opening.
"Monica?" Matteo called me when they came in.
"What are you doing here?" I approached them and Francis was still at my door.
I was shocked to see policemen in uniform behind him. In my count, there are six of them.
"Why are you with the police?" I was nervous to ask.
I looked at Francis but he had no emotion. He only gives me a blank stare.
"Search every corner," he ordered them.
The police immediately followed him and did not hesitate to enter my unit. I could do nothing but just look at what they were doing while almost flipping the utensils in my entire living room and kitchen.
What the hell?
"What's all these?" I turned to my cousin. "Stop them right now!" I ordered.
But my cousin Matteo just stared at me while apprehensive of what was happening inside my unit. It seems like a storm here.
"This is trespassing, police officers!" I shouted at the police but they did not stop what they were doing. Instead, Francis approached me to show the paper already in his hands.
"They are legalized to do this. They have a search warrant." He said.
I grabbed the paper in his hands and read it silently but annoyed. It was stated here that they will examine every corner of my unit, even my bedroom. Wait! That's too personal! They are invading someone's privacy. This is way too much!
"Stop this! This is not funny!" The scraped paper I threw at Francis and it hit his chest.
"Monica, please cooperate." My cousin said.
Cooperate? For what?
"I am not informed about this! You just ambushed me right now! And I will sue all of you!" I shouted.
I looked at my cousin and Francis at the same time. They are beside each other now so it is easy for me because they are just in front of me. Their expressions did not change.
"You don't believe me? You don't believe that I can? I am a Marchetti! Did you forget?" I said in an annoyed expression.
My house looks like a mess right now. It seems like a storm has passed in this room that all my stuff is all turmoil. I saw a police officer just enter my bedroom. By my instincts, I walked halfway through but suddenly stopped because of Matteo blocking my way.
"Move," I said.
He didn't bother to obey me.
"I said move!" I hissed.
"Is this what you're looking for, Mr. Rodriguez?" The police that went to my room appeared beside me to ask Francis.
I automatically looked at what the police were referring to. The papers I was writing on and the black folder containing the important documents I had picked up at Francis 'office were now in his hands.
"I think so," he said.
I was nervous as he unfolded my writings one by one. He also opened the black folder as if to see if anything was missing.
How did he find out about this?
"That is my personal stuff, Francis. Give it back." I tried to pull them over to him but I was caught. He pulled it away from me immediately before I could even reach it.
"Stop the search. We're done here." I heard Matteo order the cops.
I looked up to Francis right now. He's not mad. I can't see any signs of anger in him. He's not disappointed either. I don't see any dashing emotions right now. But the only thing I noticed is that he is smirking.
My plan didn't go well. I am not even starting and I failed.
And to this man, I became a laughing stock in front of him because of my desperation.
I don't know how I will feel now. My world is stuck with what happened today. The question in my mind could not be answered. The interior of my house is chaotic. There were cops around me. Matteo is by my side. And Francis who is definitely making fun of me in his brain now.
Father, what have I done?
"Reserve your explanation in the police station," he said and left first with my cousin.
Two policemen grabbed me by both arms and dragged me out of my house while I restrained my feet from stepping. Suddenly their actions made me unable to think properly of what I could do to get through this matter.
"Let me go! I swear that I will sue each and every one of you if you lay a single finger onto me!" I threaten.
"Madam, let's talk at the prison. Please come along so we can finish easily." Said a policeman in front of me today.
Wait. Madam? Was he just calling me a madam?
"What did you just call me?" Everyone stopped.
"Madam ... we won't have a hard time if you come with us well." And must you really have to repeat it?
"You called me a madam? What do you think of me? A forty-year-old woman ?!" I yelled.
My screaming had no effect because they stepped my feet out of my house. Now that I was in the hallway, the people in the nearby room came out to see what was going on.
"Let me go! Matteo!" I struggled.
"Matteo! Tell these cops to let me go!" I shouted but no Matteo responded to it.
All my life, I've only just gotten in a locked room. There are no windows and only a table and two chairs facing each other inside. The light in the center serves as a light in this small and cramped room. My hands were handcuffed and I could feel the cold all over the room. They told me that I was in the precinct now and that an inspector would come to ask me questions.
"Mrs. Monica Marchetti." A man in a tie entered while carrying a clipboard.
"I am Mr. Brian Aristosa. I will be going to ask you some questions regarding your case." He introduced himself.
"Get me outta here!" I cried.
"This will require your cooperation. We will be done shortly if you cooperate." He said coldly.
I just kept quiet while holding back my anger and shouted again. I can't believe I'm here right now.
"You stole a private document from a company and you hid it in your closet. Am I right, Mrs. Marchetti?" He asked.
"I didn't do anything!" I refused the accusation.
"You went to the office this morning to steal it," the inspector said.
"You don't have proof, mister! You are accusing an innocent here!" I just want to get out of here.
"We have all the evidence you want. If I show it to you, will you confess your crime?" He asked again.
"I didn't steal anything," I said stubbornly, "and before you question me, I will need to have a lawyer first."
Can I just offer him money? How much will it do?
His phone rang and he answered immediately. He just nods to the speaker while looking in the mirror. After the call, he stood up carrying the clipboard, and without saying a word left the room.
"Arsehole," I swore at him quietly.
I looked at the cold iron wrapped around my wrists and wondered how to remove it from handcuffing my arms. Just when I really get out of here, those people will regret what they did to me.
They dared to touch me?
Soon, Francis came in and closed the door before sitting in the chair in front of me. I looked at him wickedly as my tears struggled to drip from my eyes. This was all his fault. And I failed because of him.
"What are you trying to do?" He asked.
What else? I do everything I can to get everything you stole.
"Stealing? Really? Is that what you learned in Italy?" He chuckled as if it was funny.
"Don't talk to me like that. You know nothing." My voice is fading.
You don't know what happened.
"When will you accept that you no longer have Carluccio's?" He questioned.
I may no longer have the company, but I will do everything just to get it back and get everything back to normal. I will never accept the truth it says because it will soon disappear from his hands as well. In the end, I will still win because I deserve it.
"You've turned yourself into a mess just because of us dethroning you in the Carluccio's. Do you know how childish you've become because of your greed and desperation?" He leaned back in his chair as he looked at me intently.
"You have no right to sermon me in my life right now!" The tears that had been warning me were constantly dripping and running down my cheeks.
"You don't know what I went through, what I went through to protect the things you took. You have no right to question my life because you're not there... when I was submerged." Tears flow freely down my cheeks.
If then I was submerged because of what I went through until now it is still the same. So it's hard for me to accept all of the calvaries that began in my life.
"I'm not taking anything from you, Monica. Your dad gave it to me and I just accepted it." Do you think I will believe what you say?
"Liar!" My sobs erupted because I could no longer control the pain. Even though it was a very long time ago, that still lingers in my memory. That seems new because it repeatedly happens to me that it seems like a plaque is running.
Every time I close my eyes, I can see everything that happened. And every time I open my eyes, it always feels new, like it just happened yesterday. That I always wake up with tears on my cheeks.
"Put me in jail. That's better than living in hell everyday." I said.
Am I giving up? Just like that?
"I will not put you in jail," Francis said.
I turned to him from what I heard. "Why? I admit what I did. You caught me. I am sentenced to be in jail." I'm tired of arguing anymore.
"I will not put you in jail, but instead, I will offer you something." He leaned forward to lessen the distance between us.
I looked at him lazily. My tears have stopped now but the sadness I feel is still not gone. Just like the days that have come.
"Work with me. Be my personal assistant." He proposes.