After speaking with his father, Cristiano sat in his office chamber, a laptop open before him with a report file waiting to be read. But his mind was elsewhere.
That morning, when Vittorio announced that his week with Soraya and her children was over, Cristiano had noticed the way his mother’s face fell. The sight had clenched his heart so tightly that he hadn’t even stopped for breakfast—he had left immediately for the office. It hurt him deeply to see her so miserable and to be powerless to change it.
His thoughts drifted back to his childhood. In the beginning, life had been normal, almost ordinary. He and Elena had grown up with a loving mother and a peaceful home. Their grandmother was harsh, often cold, but their grandfather’s affection had balanced it. Their father had been distan
