Wilder and his family talked for a while and then ended the conversation. He went to his room and his mom had noticed his mood during the call. She had followed him to his room after putting Bianca to bed.
She sat on his bed and still noticed his mood hasn't changed either. Wilder flopped onto his bed, his mind racing with thoughts of the phone call and the weight of his family's secret. He had been eager to share everything with his mom, but the call had ended too soon. Now, he was left with a mix of emotions and a sense of restlessness.
As he stared at the ceiling, Wilder's thoughts turned to the burden he carried. His family's involvement with the mafia, the secrets, the lies, and the constant looking over their shoulders. He felt trapped, like he was living a life that wasn't his own.
"We should get out of this life, Mom," he thought to himself. "We should leave the country and start anew in a different country. Somewhere like... UK or Mexico!"
Wilder's imagination ran wild with visions of a normal life, free from the shadows of the mafia. He pictured himself attending school without worrying about his family's reputation, making friends without fear of betrayal, and living without the constant fear of danger.
With a newfound sense of determination, Wilder tossed off his covers and began pacing around his room. He felt an overwhelming urge to confide in his mom, to share his dreams and fears with her. He knew she would listen, that she would understand.
As he walked, Wilder's eyes landed on a map of the world pinned to his wall. His fingers traced the outline of Italy, and a sense of longing filled his heart. "That's where we should go," he whispered to himself. "A new life awaits, one where we can be free."
His mom just stared at him and then at some point he took deep breaths and sat down next to her. She asked, " Why are you being this anxious? You were so happy when we moved here so why the sudden change" He turned around and then tears had filled his eyes. He told his mom all that had transpire today in school.
Her reaction wasn't what he expected her to do. She was still very calm at every expect even after hearing everything he said. Wilder's mom, Antonia, sat beside him on the bed, her gentle hands stroking his hair as she listened to his pleas. She understood the weight of their family's secrets, the burden that came with being part of the mafia.
"Wilder, amore mio, I know it's hard, but we can't just run away from our problems," she said softly. "We can't keep moving from place to place, hoping to escape the truth. It's not a solution, and it's not fair to you."
Wilder looked up at her, his eyes pleading for a way out.
"I know you want a normal life, and I want that for you too," Sophia continued. "But we have to face our reality. Your father's... business, it's complicated. We can't just leave it behind."
Wilder sighed, feeling the familiar frustration and helplessness.
"I know it's scary, but we have to be strong," Sophia said, her voice firm but gentle. "We have to find a way to navigate this life, to make it work for us. Running away won't solve anything; it will only create more problems."
Wilder nodded slowly, understanding his mom's words. He knew she was right, but it was hard to accept.
"We'll get through this together, okay?" Antonia said, pulling him into a warm embrace. "We'll find a way to make our life work, to keep you safe and happy. You're not alone in this, Wilder. We're in it together, always."
Wilder gave his mom a very tight hug as tears rolled down his eyeballs. They had stayed in that hug for a while when he suddenly felt another warm hand on him. It was Bianca she had came in and no one noticed her. She also reassured him and he giggled while also giving her a hug.
*****
It was the next day and still Mia couldn't get over what happened at school the previous day. She stayed in her bedroom the whole day and never came out as no one except Mrs Fiona asked of her.
Her mind constantly went to the lunch date he had invited her to but she still doesn't think he would make it.
Her father didn't really care about how her day went so long she is alive and healthy, he doesn't need to know much. The day was slow but soon it was morning. Her mother was coming back home.
The grand estate, always a paragon of cleanliness, was now undergoing an unprecedented scrubbing, as if the very fate of the world depended on it. The staff, normally content with maintaining the high standards of their exacting employer, were now driven by a sense of trepidation.
For they knew that the slightest speck of dust, the tiniest smudge on a surface, would be catastrophic. Mrs Campbell, a stickler for perfection, was returning home, and her piercing gaze would leave no corner unexamined.
Mrs Fiona eye scanning every inch of the mansion with the intensity of a hawk. She directed her team with military precision, ensuring that every surface was polished, every floor gleamed, and every crevice was sanitized.
The staff worked with a sense of urgency, their usual calm demeanor replaced by a palpable anxiety. They knew that their employer's wife was not one to be trifled with, and that her displeasure would be a disaster of epic proportions.
As the hours ticked by, the mansion sparkled like new, every trace of imperfection erased. The staff stood back, exhausted but triumphant, knowing they had done everything humanly possible to avoid the wrath of their employer's wife. But only time would tell if their efforts would be enough.
Mia's hands moved mechanically as she dressed, her mind consumed by the impending arrival of her mother. She slipped into a vibrant yellow crop top dress with a matching high waisted skirt, a perfect for showing off her mid riff, the bright color a stark contrast to her somber mood. The dress hugged her slender frame, its full skirt falling in soft folds around her knees.
As she zipped up the back, Mia's thoughts drifted to the tension that always filled the air when her parents were together. Their arguments, their cold silences, their constant demands for perfection – it was a never-ending cycle.
Mia's heart raced with anxiety, her stomach twisting into knots. She knew that her mother's return would only bring more stress, more expectations, more disappointment.
With a deep breath, Mia finished getting dressed, her movements fueled by a sense of resignation. She knew that she couldn't avoid her mother's presence, no matter how hard she tried. The sound of her sandals echoed through the hallway as she made her way downstairs, her heart heavy with foreboding.
She had always dislike her mother's presence in the house ever since she was little. She didn't like her father but she would prefer to spend 100 days with him then a day with her mother.
She was hell of trouble and also not considerate of anyone. She had came downstairs and sat on the sofa with no smile as she had already been taken her breakfast all by herself. Her father had left the house regardless hearing the fact that his wife was coming home.
Soon, fleets of cars had began to pull up and all the staff had lined up outside the entrance door to the house. Mia scoffed but sat down at her position. Soon the guards all came out and the car doors were opened. The middle car was opened and all the staffs bowed down slightly.
A drop of a single leaf fell and Mrs Fiona his it under her shoes in order for Mrs Campbell not to notice....