Chereads / Lead Me To You / Chapter 13 - Chapter Eleven

Chapter 13 - Chapter Eleven

Monica

Behaviour

The outside of the mansion is loud as the gathering of workers begins. I was just left here in the kitchen while stunned and sitting in the high counter chair. In the middle of my hands was a tall glass of water that I couldn't seem to drink. I am not ready for today. I thought I would be fine since a long time had passed, but not yet. It still hurts.

"What are you doing here?"

I heard Francis' voice behind me. My spirit returned immediately and I finally drank the water in my glass.

"There's a gathering outside. They know that you are here. They wanted to see you." He stands beside me.

"I'll come out... later," I answered.

Nanny Ophelia and I have met, but she doesn't remember me. Carter and I also met but he brought some bad news that made me even sadder.

"Is there something bothering you?" He leaned forward to my side to have a better view of my worn-out face.

I looked him in the eyes, "no, nothing. I'm just- adjusting." I whispered the last word.

"I see. Do you want me to call Matteo?" He suggested.

"No, it's fine. He must have been working so much from his case. I don't want to disturb him." I said.

I forgot for a moment that he's a lawyer. He has a hectic schedule and he will not tend to my requests every time. It's so selfish of me.

"Do you want some wine?" I saw him walking past the counter and reaching a bottle of wine on top of the refrigerator.

"But you have guests outside. You don't need to accompany me here." He popped the bottle open with a cork opener.

"I had this wine for a very long time. About twenty years, I guess. This was the first bottle I bought with my own money." He said.

The bottle was not brand as Carluccio's, it was another company. But you might think of it as one because they have the same packaging style, especially with the cork.

The cupboard that he got the bottle was full of wine bottles. Different brands and different names.

"When I first tasted a wine, I developed a hobby of collecting them. Not to display but to study them. I had a vision that this will be going to be my life, my career. And as I manifested, it did." He gave me a glass with wine on it.

"That's why you stole my father's brand," I declared with bitterness.

I saw him smirking. Oh?

"I had your family's company because they trust me. I am confident and knowledgeable. If I didn't offer my help, you have been dead by now." He sipped his glass.

"And I'm not? Do they not think of me as an option? I am confident and I know about the business." I fired back.

"You were the target, Monica. You will always have been. Your father did these so he could protect you. And what can you do if the company fails?"

What can I do?

All this time, I have been set my goals for that. But what if I reach it? What is my plan?

"They want to kill you. They want to take the company from you. Do you have a plan in case what you want happens?"

I can't get the right answer. No words came out of my mouth. I've become doubtful to myself. Again.

"Sir Francis, they are looking for you." An attendant appeared at the door to call Francis.

"Sure. I'm coming." He answered before drinking the wine in his glass again.

He looked at me, long, critical and kind of studying my face. I match every stare he gives me. But suddenly, he stood up. He pushed the bottle of wine in front of me.

"Come out whenever you're ready," he utters before leaving.

Did he just mock me? And did he just question my skills? Wow. I can't believe him.

I clenched my hands because of my anger. The cup he gave me was still full so I slurped it and tasted it for a while. It's just an ordinary wine, nothing special. Why does he like it? Oh wait, the taste is changing. It's turning sweet as the residue stays in your mouth longer.

Cazzo! Why does it taste so good?

I was so drawn by the idea of ​​Francis making fun of me. And every time I see him smile, smirking or soft laughing in my mind; I tend to drink straight to the bottle. I do not care anymore about the wine etiquette my father taught me. All I could think of right now is how Francis feel about me now.

Did he think of me as just a blabbermouth?

Did he find me weak and not confident?

Was I not good?

Do I not deserve Carluccio's?

"Ha! He's a pain in my ass." I said mindlessly.

I heard a classic song playing outside the house. It's a national folk dance as I remembered. Followed by the laughter and giggling, they must be having a good time.

I want to dance too.

Dance my worries away.

I stood with the bottle of wine in my hand. I don't know if there's any leftover because I've been sipping it earlier. I don't know how long I've stayed in the kitchen all by myself and drinking. But the bottle is not that heavy like before. I left the house balancing my body. I feel hot and my eyes are bulging. It's like I just want to sleep.

"Signora!"

"Merciful God, signora!"

And right that moment, everyone stopped whatever they were doing. They even stopped the music from playing and all eyes are on me.

I turned to the man who's managing the sound system. He's just looking at me, stunned and shocked.

"Come on, this is a party. Why'd you stop the music?" I was forced to strengthen my legs as it keeps wobbling.

"Play it!" I yelled at him.

I saw the fear in his eyes and chose to just follow my wish. The surroundings roared again but they did not move.

"Why is anybody not dancing?" I pointed my free hand at them.

Maybe they want me to lead? I'm not that foreign to not know about this dance.

I decided to go downstairs. But as I stepped forward my eyes suddenly blurred. I felt like I forgot to step on the flight of stairs and my body moved forward. I lost my balance and seemed to come to my senses because I had already prepared for my fall on the lawn.

But that didn't happen. I was saved. A man like lightning ran in my direction. He quickly grabbed my waist and arm and stopped my stride.

"Signorina, are you okay?" The man asked.

I did not answer immediately but turned to him to see who this man was.

"Oh, it's Carter! You saved me again." And I laughed.

He tried to reach for the bottle in my right hand but I moved it out of his way. "No," I firmly said. I forced myself to sit up as he supported me. I chose to ignore my aching ankle. Without any thoughts, I drink into the bottle I am holding. But I didn't expect it to be finished.

"Fuck this wine. I didn't have a single sip!" I whined.

I threw the bottle away. The people in front of me gasps dramatically as they heard the crashing sound of the bottle. They were reacting as if they were watching a theatre drama.

"What do you expect? It's glass! It will break!" I shouted because the music was too loud.

I passed my gaze into Francis' direction. He's with a man from the factory and they were both holding a beer. He's just there looking at me, without any expression.

"Turn off the sound," I heard Carter say to the man who's in charge of the music.

I didn't break my stare at Francis.

"What now? What are you thinking now?! What can you say about me?" I burst.

I still can't get out of my mind the insult he made and told me.

"Is that how shallow you think of me? Do you think I can't do it? What was the reason, huh?"

I exaggerated my arms to help me express my feelings. I just feel like if I can't say how I'm feeling, no one's gonna validate it.

"What do I need to do so you can believe that I can?" I sobbed loudly. I don't care if everyone is watching.

I saw them murmuring next to each other. Totally ignoring my whining and my presence. And they just continue talking to each other like I wasn't even here and made a scene.

"You are drunk, signorina. I'll take you to your chamber." Carter kneeled in front of me.

"I'm not. I know what I'm doing." I whispered softly. And my tears fell.

He immediately reached for my cheeks and wiped the tears with his thumb. "Okay. I know you're tired. You have to rest now."

"He's not paying attention to me," my voice cracked to the last word I uttered.

"That's okay. You don't need his attention."

"But I want him to believe me that I can do it. I want him to know that I deserve the Carluccio's too." I keep on pointing my chest to prove my point.

"I always believe in you. I know you can." Carter said.

It helps me calm down but his words are not really the affirmation I am hoping for. I want Francis' words coming out of his mouth.

"I can do it. I just need a chance to show them." I keep on repeating these words as I cry like a baby in front of everyone.

All of them are looking at me, except Francis. He remained firm as I burst out in front of everybody. No one dared to move or utter a single word that I could hear. Only Carter have the strength to hold and look out for me while I whine.

I might regret all of this tomorrow but I did not think of that now.

"Escort her to her room, Carter. She's tired." I heard him demand Carter and he didn't say a single word but just do what he asked him to do.

He approached me and helped me to my feet. My knees were tender and I couldn't stand up properly so he decided to just lift me. I did not fight back because I no longer had the strength. And as he walked up the stairs I leaned my head on his shoulder and sobbed. I knew he was having a hard time because it was hard to climb stairs that were heavy to carry.

"Hush now, Monica. Everything will be alright." He tucked me into my bed.

"You think so?" I asked.

I don't know if he heard me because I thought no voice came out as I said those words.

"Of course," he affirmed.

I pulled my comforter and turned the other way. I almost covered my entire face with it but I left my forehead so I can still feel the coldness of the room.

"Sleep well, signorina. I'll just be downstairs if you need me." I heard the door creaked as it opened and closed. He left the yellow light on so I won't worry about getting to sleep fast.

My father is looking at me right now. I can't seem to read his expression because he's too far away. I reached him with my hand but he keeps on fading away.

No. Don't leave.

A few seconds passed and I was again at the place where my father's assassination had taken place.

I can't move. No one's holding me down but my body is stuck.

I just watched my father kneeling while the other man beside him pointed his gun at Papa's head.

"No. Don't kill him. Don't, please." It seems that I can only utter words but not move.

"I love you, my Monica." My father said before closing his eyes.

The scene keeps getting intense and I can't do anything but watch. I can't move my feet, I can't reach my father's arms.

"Papa..."

My words are useless because that didn't stop them from killing him. What happened before was repeated in front of me. And just like before, I did nothing.

I gasped for air as soon as I woke up from that nightmare. My body was sweating profusely and my chest tightened. There's no one in this room that I can call immediately. I'm all alone. I calmed myself and sat up, leaning back on the backrest of the bed.

I'm having nightmares again.

"Signora, can I come in?" I heard a knock behind the door, it was a female voice. Must be one of the maids.

"Come in," I faintly answer.

The door opened and she entered with a tray of food. Carter opened the door for her because she couldn't let go of her carry-on. She approached me and placed the tray on my bedside table.

"Sir Francis sent this. It's supposed to take away your hangover." She says.

Coffee, Macaroni Soup, Ibuprofen for medicine and water.

I was drunk? I remembered that there was a party last night. How did it go?

"Did I do something stupid last night?" I asked her.

She didn't know if she would tell me or not.

"Please tell me, was I?" I begged her.

I am not myself whenever I am drunk. I sometimes do scandalous acts.

"It's not too much. You just shouted at Sir Francis last night. I remember what you said that you wanted him to believe you."

And right there, flashes of memories came back to my mind.

I did yell at him.

"What?" No way.

"That's all I got," she added.

"How could I be drunk if I only had a wine? And I've been drinking wine since I was twelve. Impossible."

"What you had contains twenty percent of alcohol. You drank the whole bottle all by yourself." Francis' voice came out at the door.

The maid immediately holds back and turns down her head to avoid Francis' gaze. She's partly shaking as if terrified by his presence.

"I'm sorry, sir." She apologized.

"It's okay. You may go now." Francis replied.

I couldn't move my hands to reach for the foods that were on the tray. I have no strength because of the headache I am feeling. And I have nothing to present to Francis because of the scandal I caused last night.

He managed to sit beside me. My bed was big and I sat in the middle.

"How was the party last night?" I asked.

I don't know if it's the right time to be dumb and ask him that question.

"They were terrified ... with how you acted last night." He said.

What he said brought all the actions I have done last night. I finally understand how terrified they were of me. Even I couldn't believe that I did all of those.

"Oh dio mio, what should I do?"

I could not think of anything right now.

"I have informed all of them to gather at the lobby for a meeting, after their work. All of the staff will be there. You could use that opportunity to apologize to them."

"Apologize?"

"You were wrong, Monica. A good and sincere apology can go a long way."

That's it. I have to do something to erase my bad impression of them.

The afternoon came and little by little I could see from my window that the workers were coming from the factory and gathering in the lobby of the mansion. My chest was pounding because I couldn't form my sentences to speak to them. I have never been this ashamed all my life.

I fixed my hair as I go down the stairs. A few minutes later and they were finished, Francis came out to start their meeting.

"I would like to use this meeting as an opportunity for all of you to meet Ms Monica Carluccio. She is the only daughter of the former CEO of our company, Mr Massimo Carluccio." Said Francis as I've heard.

The nervousness I felt as I approached the door was too much. I don't show myself to them first because of my interruptive feelings. Even the assistants and drivers were there as well.

"I know you've already met her and had a bit of a misunderstanding. But let's hear her thoughts."

I saw Francis look at the door jamb where I was standing.

"May you come here, Monica. Please?" Francis stated.

I took a deep breath first before I walked closer to them. I knew they were all looking at me but I just bowed my head. When I got closer, Francis took me to his side.

"Go on, say what you need to say." He whispered.

I conditioned myself and focused my gaze on the people in front of me.

You can do this, Monica. You just have to apologize. Right?

"I honestly don't know how to start. With regards to what happened last night, I just simply ruined the party. But I don't want to give you the bad impressions on the second time we meet."

How should I apologize? Do I have to beg while kneeling?

"I want to apologize to all of you. I know you were scared of what I did, and I'm ashamed of that. I won't do it again. And I wouldn't want to disappoint all of you again."

Words are great affirmation, but when it is combined with actions, you can feel the sincerity of a person.

"Please tell me what I should do just so you can forgive me," I begged.

I looked to Francis to ask for his support. I am not good at this thing. He just nodded as his hands were tucked in his pocket.

"There's nothing you have to do, Signora. It's enough for us to hear your apology."

"We can only see that you are sorry that what you did was okay for us,"

"What you have done is very superficial, Signora. Who are we to not forgive you?"

Those are just some of the things I heard after I apologized. My heart is overjoyed because of people like them.

They are so blessed with forgiveness.

It's so easy for some people to give their forgiveness to others. Whether big or small sins, they will forgive and forget all about it.

But I can't be that person. It makes me feel so nice to give my forgiveness or take some of it, but it's so hard for me to give it right away.

I still mourn for my father and all the memories are still playing inside my head. It's hard to forgive the person behind all that.

I don't know if I can, or I ever will.