Chapter 15: Chapter Fourteen

Eros

My home, Villa Isadora, was a €400 million estate located on the Green Hills Peninsula in Crescent City, the capital of Eldoria. Named after my late mother, Isadora, the estate was a grand yet serene retreat that reflected both wealth and personal sentiment.

The main house was built from cream-colored stone, with large arched windows offering breathtaking views of the coastline. It featured an open design, with spacious living areas, polished marble floors, and high ceilings. Soft natural light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows during the day, while elegant chandeliers illuminated the house at night.

The estate was surrounded by lush, well-maintained gardens with fountains, pathways, and vibrant flowers. A circular driveway lined with cypress trees led up to the main entrance from the gate. Behind the house, a glass-walled infinity pool stretched toward the horizon, blending seamlessly with the turquoise waters of the peninsula, and an open-air pavilion perfect for hosting elegant soirées.

Inside, there was a grand library filled with rare books, a cozy theater room, and a wine cellar stocked with fine vintages. A private marina was tucked away at the edge of the property, offering easy access to the sea. The estate also had a small, secluded garden where a marble statue of Isadora stood—a quiet tribute to my mother.

A dedicated staff of twenty worked tirelessly to keep the estate in immaculate condition. This included the butler, Marcus, two housekeepers, seven maids, five gardeners, two chauffeurs, one estate manager and two chefs, not counting the security personnel, whose numbers had noticeably doubled since the accident years ago. 

Despite its vast size and opulence, Villa Isadora exuded the tranquility of a private sanctuary, blending elegance with an undeniable sense of peace and comfort.

The tension between me and my father was reflected in our living arrangements at Villa Isadora. Although we shared the same estate, we lived as though worlds apart. I resided in the west wing, a self-contained space that offered me the privacy I craved. 

My quarters included a modern kitchen, a cozy sitting room with minimalist decor, and a dining area that allowed me to avoid awkward shared meals with my father and also my own personal gym.

My father, Leonardo, on the other hand, remained in the east wing, where the grandeur of the main house was most evident. His side featured the grand dining hall, a formal study, and lavish living areas he often used to entertain guests.

The vastness of Villa Isadora made it easy for us to avoid crossing paths unless necessary, with our separate routines further widening the emotional distance. While the estate was a stunning testament to wealth and legacy, it also felt like a hollow reminder of a fractured family, with each man retreating into his corner of solitude.

I pushed a piece of grilled brisket around my plate with my fork, my appetite quickly fading. We were having mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and the grilled brisket I usually loved. He’d been right when he mentioned it was my favorite dish, but now, I couldn’t bring myself to take another bite.

The ticking of the clock above the dining room doorway filled the silence between my father, Leonardo, and me. The large dining table, capable of seating ten, felt far too spacious for just the two of us.

“So,” Leonardo said, clearing his throat. “How’s school going?”

I glanced up, startled, setting my fork down. Since Mom and Isabella, my sister, passed away—no, even before that—he had never shown any interest in my education. He was always absent, and it was Mom who handled my report cards and celebrated my achievements.

“What?” I stared at him, incredulous. “Did you...” I trailed off, shaking my head. “We’re not close enough for small talk.”

“Right.” He muttered, almost to himself, sounding slightly defeated. “I just thought I’d ask about school.”

“Please don’t,” I snapped, my tone sharper than I meant. The sharpness of my tone even caught me off guard.

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly, sounding unsure.

I took a sip from my water glass, trying to calm myself. I couldn’t explain why his simple question had sparked such anger, but the sudden flare of emotion caught me off guard—it was an intensity I hadn’t felt since Mom died.

“Uh,” Leonardo began slowly, clearing his throat again to break the silence. He reached for his wine glass, swirling it before taking a sip. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

I didn’t look up, my attention still fixed on my plate. “What is it?” My voice was laced with a mix of boredom and indifference, though I tightened my grip on the fork. I guess I wasn’t done being angry with him.

He hesitated, leaning back in his chair. After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat for the third time. “I’ve been seeing someone. Her name’s Vivienne. She’s an actress. We’ve been together for about a year now,” he said, his tone cautious.

I froze, my fork clattering against the plate. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet my father's, my eyes locking with his. "A year?" I repeated, my voice thick with disbelief, sharp enough to cut through the air.

"Yes," Leonardo responded, his tone cautious as he avoided my stare. "And I’ve decided it’s time to take the next step. I’m going to marry her."

The atmosphere between us grew heavy, charged with tension. I let out a bitter laugh, running my hand through my hair and leaning on the table. "You’re joking, right?" I asked, my voice icy.

Leonardo furrowed his brow, his gaze hardening as it met mine. "No, Eros, I’m not. This is something I’ve thought about for a long time. Vivienne makes me happy. I think it’s time for us to move forward as a family." He said.

"Family?" I scoffed, my jaw clenched in anger. "Since when do you care about family, Dad? If you really cared, maybe you would’ve treated Mom better. Maybe she’d still be here."

His expression darkened, discomfort flickering across his face. "That’s not fair," he muttered, his voice low.

"Not fair?" I shot back, my voice rising. "What’s not fair is you acting like you're some devoted family man now. Do you even remember how miserable Mom was? How she cried herself to sleep because of you?"

Leonardo’s face tightened, but his silence spoke volumes. He knew the truth—the few weeks before Mom’s death had been the worst, but she'd been unhappy for years. She’d loved her children too much to leave him, even though the marriage was a cage. It wasn’t until two days before the accident that I discovered the full extent of her misery.

Their marriage had been one of convenience, having met only once in person before tying the knot. Mom confessed that she had broken the unspoken rule of a marriage of convenience by falling in love with Dad, despite knowing he was in love with another woman. She believed Dad had fallen for her too, or at least she had hoped so. 

But after she gave birth to me, everything reverted to how it had been in the beginning. It was then that her heart shattered beyond repair, yet she had fallen so deeply for Dad that the thought of not being with him was unthinkable.

I pushed my chair back, standing abruptly. The chair scraped loudly against the polished floor. "You think you can just barge into my life, throw this at me, and expect me to be okay with it? Am I supposed to just accept this woman—this stranger—as what? My new mother?" I asked, venom in my words.

"Eros, calm down," Leonardo said, his voice firm, his patience fraying. "I’m not asking you to replace Vivienne with your mother. No one can ever replace Isadora. But it’s been five years. We can’t keep living in the past."