UNDER MR. RICCI

CHAPTER THREE: PICCOLA ROSA

(Marina)

I rushed to read my father’s messages in the car, my heart pounding against my chest.

I want to see you in the next ten minutes.

That was the first message I saw when I unlocked my phone.

It was from my dad.

And it had been sent yesterday.

Oh God…

What have I gotten myself into?

As if things couldn’t get any worse, another notification popped up.

A video link.

The headline alone sent a shiver down my spine.

Billionaire’s Daughter – Marina Bianchi’s Fiancé Gets Another Woman Pregnant, and Marina Creates a Scene at the Engagement Party.

Oh no.

This can’t be happening.

With trembling hands, I clicked on the video.

The first clip was of me slapping him.

I instantly fumbled my phone, throwing it onto the passenger seat before running a hand through my hair.

After sitting there for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts, I started the car and drove straight home.

⸻

I arrived at the mansion and parked.

For five whole minutes, I remained in the car because I already knew what was waiting for me the moment I stepped inside.

Finally, I gathered enough courage to get out.

I walked nervously toward the grand entrance, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

My father sat on the couch while my stepmother stood behind him with her hands resting on his shoulders, pretending to comfort him.

What a joke.

My stepsister, Camilla, looked at me with obvious satisfaction written all over her face, while her brother, Sebastian, glanced up at me, shook his head, and buried himself in his phone again.

My father shot me a deadly glare before rising from the couch and walking toward me.

This doesn’t look good.

My body began to tremble.

He stopped right in front of me.

I could smell his expensive cologne, yet I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye.

Instead, my gaze remained fixed on the floor.

The next thing I knew—

Slap!

His hand landed hard across my face, sending me crashing to the floor.

I placed a trembling hand against my burning cheek as tears blurred my vision.

“Oh, sweetie…”

My stepmother rushed toward me, her voice dripping with fake concern.

Oh God…

I swear one day I’ll strangle this woman.

I shrugged her hand away, causing her to stumble backward.

“You unfortunate child!” my father thundered. “How dare you bring shame upon this family!”

His words cut deeper than the slap ever could.

Unfortunate.

Me?

His own daughter?

I knew he blamed me for my mother’s death…

But was that really my fault?

Slowly, I got to my feet, picked up my handbag, and turned toward the elevator leading to my room.

Just as I was about to step inside, my father’s voice stopped me.

“And listen carefully.”

I froze.

“You’ll be reporting to work tomorrow at Ricci Noir. And don’t even think about messing things up.”

What the f**k did he just say?

I stood there, frozen, trying to process what I’d just heard.

“No, Dad!” Camilla protested angrily. “I should be the one working there, not her!”

“He specifically asked for her.”

My father answered before sitting back down.

I was too stunned to even think about Camilla’s jealousy.

I stepped into the elevator, rode it to my floor, walked into my room, and locked the door behind me.

Throwing my bag onto the bed, I collapsed beside it.

I was going to work for the man I’d just had s*x with?

Not just any man.

Giovani Ricci.

Oh God.

Why did he specifically ask for me?

Before I could think any further, my phone started ringing.

My best friends.

Both calling.

And video calling.

I answered immediately.

“Where have you been, girl?” Isabella screamed the moment I picked up.

Apparently, I had been too shocked to even check my messages.

“Wait…” Laura said softly. “Baby, are you okay?”

She had probably noticed my red, swollen eyes.

I forced a small smile.

“I’m fine, girls.”

“I hope you’re not crying over that jerk,” Isabella said. “Because we’re coming to Italy tomorrow to deal with him.”

What?

“Isabella, that won’t be necess—”

“Save it!” she interrupted. “We already bought our tickets.”

Oh my God.

These girls.

“It’s not even about him,” I said quietly. “It’s my dad.”

Tears instantly filled my eyes again.

“Oh, baby,” Laura said sympathetically. “Why don’t you just leave his house? He’s hurting you.”

“He’ll cut me off,” I replied, lowering my gaze.

“Then come live with us in Miami, baby,” Isabella said without missing a beat.

That made me laugh despite everything.

“Isabella, you’re something else.”

We all burst into laughter.

These girls meant the world to me.

Harvard brought us together, and ever since that random encounter in the library, we’d been inseparable.

Laura was calm, caring, and happily married with the cutest baby boy ever.

Isabella was a supermodel who lived life on her own terms. She was absolutely crazy and would kill to protect the people she loved.

“I love you guys,” I said. “But I need to freshen up and mentally prepare myself to become Giovani Ricci’s personal assistant.”

Both of them fell silent.

Their mouths literally dropped open.

“You mean…” Isabella finally said.

“The Giovani Ricci?”

I nodded.

“Girl, spill the tea!” Laura squealed.

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“Byeeee.”

I ended the call before they could stop me.

Chuckling softly, I got to my feet.

“These girls…”

I muttered under my breath.

I had barely taken a few steps toward my closet when my phone rang again.

I sighed, assuming it was them.

But instead…

An unknown number.

I hesitated for a second before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Piccola Rosa.”

I froze.