Franco twirled his fork, mixing the sauce of his carbonara evenly. The food tasted great but eating alone in an enormous dining table tended to dampen the mood.

He gave up the pretense of eating, the utensil clink against the porcelain plate. He leaned back, sighing in boredom and annoyance.

Franco's mind was filled with Callista's proposal. He supposed she was right that merging their assets would result in more power. But he had doubts that his father would hand his seat that easily.

His fingers tapped against the mahogany table. Francisco Castellano had forged ahead and continued with his drug dealings. Franco had expected Luciano to fight back but they had been on the defensive ever since the incident at the port.

Franco scoffed. Winning used to be his goal. Callista had offered the prize herself and he only had to say 'yes'. But fuck, he couldn't even do that. He had asked for time to ponder the question.

Why was he doing this anyway?

Althea Castellano entered the dining room that caused him to bolt out from his thoughts. His mother's bob cut was sleek and shiny as she adjusted her favorite Chanel fur coat. She cast him an annoyed look before eyeing the food.

"Esther! What junk is this?" she yelled.

Franco remained quiet as his mother showered the maid with uncouth words. She hadn't tasted the food but her complaints were unending.

Franco began to wonder if his family was worth fighting for. He stood up, trudging to where the older woman was. It was time to confront her.

He nodded to the maid and she left the mother and son.

"Mother, aren't you going out? There's no need to complain," he said. He towered over the woman but Althea wasn't intimidated.

Her crimson lips stretched into a sardonic smile. "Did I ask for your opinion, child?" She shooed him away with her manicured nails. "Go and follow your father around instead of minding my business."

Althea turned to go but Franco seized her arm. She visibly swallowed in fear as Franco's grip on her shoulders tightened. "Don't you think its time for a heart to heart, Mother?"

"Get your hands off me, filthy child!" she screeched, backing away like she was on fire.

Franco clenched his jaw at the piercing pain in his chest. He took a deep breath so his voice remained level despite the tremors of emotion that sparked in his skin. "What did I ever do to you?"

For the first time in years, Franco saw her mother's pretty face crumble. Her brown eyes watered though she blinked it away. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Tell me the truth. Why do you hate me?" he asked.

The woman smoothened his features. She shook her head and spun on her heels.

"Mother, don't I at least own an explanation?" he shouted after her. "Did I do something wrong to you? Why can't you l—"

"Because you're not my son!" she shrieked, facing the younger man with turbulence in her eyes. Althea Castellano took a deep breath. "That's why I can't love you."

"W-what?" Franco's knees buckled. He leaned against the edge of the mahogany table.

"You're your father's bastard," she spat out. Althea flicked the strands of hair away from her face. "I only have one daughter. Only Alicia and she died long ago."

Franco let out a heavy sigh, forcing out the emotions that threatened to engulf him. "Who's my mother then?"

"Celeste Luciano."

"What?" he croaked, feeling the air leave his lungs.

"You look so much like her," Althea exclaimed. "Your father may pass it off but I can see it! My own child died and now, I'm forced to take care of a child that came from sin?" Her voice shattered. "Can you blame me?"

"B-but... why am I here? I thought..." Franco ran a hand over his face. "This is fucked up."

"Celeste managed to hide her pregnancy when she married Nicholas Luciano. But your father was convinced you are his son. That's why he started the fire." Althea's eyes hardened into steel. "Truthfully, I wanted you dead. But my damned husband took you in!"

Franco let out a chuckle. His life was fucking ridiculous. His parents had lied to him. The flickering hate he held for the other family wasn't even real. Did his father really wanted to raise him? Or did he want to hurt the Lucianos that badly?

"Franco..." Althea's voice came out like a soft caress. He had never heard her talked like that before. "Francisco would kill me for telling you the truth. But I can't do it anymore. I cannot give you what you want. So after this, stop asking me for it."

Franco felt the edge of his eyes burn. He might not be his real mother but they have been living under the same roof for as long as he could remember. He had remembered running around the house to let her praise his silly drawing only for her to sneer at him.

He would be lying if her rejection didn't hurt. Because for half his life, he had asked her love, no matter how impossible. Now he knew why she couldn't give it.

He released a long breath. "Yes. I understand."

"Good," she let out a small smile. "If there's one thing I like about you, Franco, it's your obedience."

Althea Castellano left the dining room. Franco took several deep breaths, fighting off the arrows of grief that made his throat constrict.

I'm proud of you son. Always.

"Liar." He curled his fingers into a fist and threw a porcelain plate to the wall. It shattered loudly that several maids rushed in. Franco threw another one that some of the paintings fell off.

If there's one thing I like about you, Franco, it's your obedience.

"Obedience, huh?" Franco growled in disgust and fished out his phone. He called the one person that could help him.

"Callista? Can we talk?" he asked.

He heard her sniff as she coughed. Sad music played in the background.  It was an acoustic version of ILYSB if Franco had remembered correctly.

"Ah, sure. What is it?" she mumbled.

"In personal."

"No, Franco. I have—"

"Please..."

She sighed. "Fine. Text me the rest."

✘✘

end of act II

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Yes, dramatic author is present! *raise hand

Next update will be on Monday!

Thank you for supporting this story! Votes and comments are always appreciated.

stay safe everyone!

xx, lucci