Another step. And then another. I keep my chin up, gaze connected with Massimo’s as I cross the room. I can’t believe he invited me to join the meeting. That’s unprecedented. He’s basically proclaimed me an equal to every man here. Equal to Tiziano, who, a few years ago, asked me to fetch him another drink, taking me for one of the serving staff in my own house. And Primo, whom I overheard telling his wife that, if my father offered their son my hand in marriage, they’d need to find a way to avoid it, hoping that Dad would relent and allow Nera to marry “the darling Ruggero” instead. And to Brio, who once outright asked my dad if I had a speech impediment because I preferred to stay quiet at social gatherings instead of yapping nonstop like other girls my age. They all must be fuming on th
