Chapter 44 I Actually Know Nothing About Him

I changed clothes in the fitting room at the mall, stowing the coat lent to me by the nurse into my bag. After wandering around for a bit, I finally found a dry cleaner. I dropped off the clothes and left the kind nurse's receiving address and contact information.

Just then, my phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans.

Startled, I feared it might be Antonio, but the name flashing on the screen was "Mom."

Pushing aside the uneasy feelings, I pressed the answer button, "Mom, good morning."

"Good morning, dear," Mom was direct. "Can you tell me where you are right now?"

My eyelid twitched, a panic of being caught in a lie surged, "I..."

"I apologize, Sienna, I'm just so worried about you. The shooting yesterday had me concerned. You didn't go to Philadelphia, did you? What's going on with you and Vince?"

Mom clearly knew about the argument with Dad. Did Dad say anything to her? Did he tell her I was Antonio's mistress?

My body trembled, tears stinging my eyes, "Mom... I'm fine, I'll come to Philadelphia."

Mom sighed, "Don't cry, Sienna. Vince is a bastard, he's not a good father. Come live with me, it will be better."

I was tempted. I had envied Valentina before; I missed Mom's hugs, her lullabies, and fairy tales.

Living with Mom would make me happy.

If only there weren't massive debts, if only there wasn't Antonio.

"I'm sorry, Mom..." Please forgive me.

"I don't think there's anything about your father worth clinging to. I'll respect your decision, but please think it over," Mom said. "Where are you now? I'll send the driver to pick you up."

I instinctively wanted to refuse, remembering I had told her I wasn't yet in Philadelphia.

"I'm sorry, I checked your flight; you're already in Philadelphia, aren't you?"

"If you don't like the driver, I can cancel my meeting in five minutes and come get you."

"No, please let the driver come. Don't interrupt your work, Mom."

I gave Mom the address of the mall, and she noted it down, instructing me to stay put and wait, and to take down the driver's phone number.

I thought, she'll see my wounds, and there will be no excuses left. I sighed and found a nearby café.

"Hello, ma'am, what can I get you?"

I had stood in front of the cake display for ten minutes. When I'm upset, I like something sweet, like cake.

But I had just had breakfast, and more importantly, I had no appetite now, not even cake could cheer me up.

"Iced Americano, thanks." Eventually, I ordered an iced Americano without getting a cake.

The café's TV was broadcasting the news, covering the terrorist attack in the park yesterday, described as a gang fight involving the mafia. The official death list was announced.

I stared at the rolling list on the TV, holding my breath, my emotions complex.

I didn't know whether to hope to see Antonio's name on it or not.

As the list ended, Antonio's name wasn't there, nor were Dante and Matteo. They were safe; the mercenaries hadn't killed them.

Why hadn't they contacted me? No calls, no emails.

Had I really been abandoned? Was Antonio tired of me?

I bit my lip, glad yet my vision blurred.

The driver's call came through, "Miss Corsetti, where are you?"

I wiped my tears, told him the café's name, and walked to the entrance to wait.

A minute later, a Cayenne slowly pulled up in front of me.

Honestly, I'm not much into cars, but Nico was crazy about them, especially rare luxury models.

To please him, I had once stayed up three nights to finish a project that was supposed to take a week, earning Professor Dom's reward—a shoot at the launch of the new Rolls-Royce, the very model of Cayenne before me.

Where did Mom get such a fancy car?

I gasped and quickly stepped back, hiding my camera behind me to avoid damaging the car.

As the driver's door opened, a man in a black suit stepped out, stood in front of me, and respectfully asked, "Miss Corsetti?"

His voice sounded familiar. I cautiously asked, "Are you Mr. Neri?"

"Giacomo Bertelli, I am your driver today." Giacomo opened the car door for me, "Just call me Giacomo."

"Yes, Giacomo, you can call me Sienna." I maintained a polite smile, ducked into the Cayenne, keeping my body stiff, not daring to lean back against the seat.

Was this Cayenne really Mom's car? My goodness! I couldn't help but scream inside.

Was my mom a wealthy woman?

I suddenly remembered my father once saying that Mom's family had money.

Now, I believed him. At the same time, I started worrying that Dad would definitely ask Mom for money.

I became restless; I had to stop Dad and take him away after the engagement party.

"Madam asked me to apologize on her behalf," Giacomo handed me a small, elegant bag, "She's in a very important meeting and regrets she couldn't come herself."

I held it with both hands, feeling its weight, "What is this?"

"It's cookies made by Madam herself, hoping you'd like them."

My eyes widened in delight as I carefully opened the bag and indeed, there were several cookies of different shapes inside.

I chose a bear-shaped cookie and bit into it—the crispness, the blend of butter and cheese just right. Tears welled up again; this was the taste of my childhood.

God knows how much I missed this flavor. Mom's cookies had her own secret recipe, so ever since she left with my sister, I had never tasted it again.

I carefully packed the remaining cookies, reluctant to finish them.

The scenery outside the window remained those unfamiliar views, but in this strange city of Philadelphia, there were the two most important people to me—my mom and Valentina.

I tentatively asked Giacomo, "My father, I mean Vince Corsetti, is he living at my mom's place?"