Episode 5

As dawn broke, Otavio was already awake; in fact, he had only slept for a couple of hours at most.

He got ready and left to have breakfast and sort out some matters before the damned wedding.

Walking through the corridor, he moved towards Bianca's room, opened the door, and saw her curled up in bed, sleeping. He took a deep breath and exited the room, locking it behind him.

He went downstairs for breakfast and saw his mother Ellen bustling about, abuzz with excitement, before she approached and kissed him.

"Good morning, son. You're up early. You look terrible."

"I didn't sleep well."

"Is something bothering you, son?"

"Just the minor details—my future father-in-law died, my bride ran away, and I'm about to marry her little sister."

His mother gasped, shocked by her son's disclosure as he sipped his coffee calmly. Ellen was shaken to see the coldness in her son's eyes.

"My God, son, I don't know what to say. Where is the young lady? How is this madness going to unfold? Did the girl agree? How did Giovanni die, Otavio?"

"Mother, all you need to know for now is that the girl is in her room. Please organize everything, I have to stop by the company to handle some things, and then I'll return for the ordeal."

Otavio left before his mother could say more. He wasn't in the mood for conversation; he was exasperated with all that had transpired. On his way, he called Jhon to confirm if everything was in order and if they had found the runaway, but Jhon reported that she just vanished.

Ellen requested a breakfast tray to take to Bianca. Otavio had left the key hanging on the door. Upon entering, Ellen saw the girl sitting, hunched over and weeping. The sight brought back memories of Ellen's youth—she was barely 18 when she had been forced to marry Otavio's father.

She had lived bitterly beside him, for he was callous and merciless—a man without scruples. He was constantly unfaithful and demeaning, and she was obliged to uphold a facade of the perfect family, as the council would not tolerate betrayal within the mafia, especially not from their Don.

Snapping out of her reverie, Ellen approached Bianca, who started at the sound of someone nearing.

"Who's there?"

"Hi, I'm Ellen, Otavio's mother. I don't recall your name, but I remember the twinkle in your father's eye when you were born. I just don’t remember your mother being pregnant, but we had little contact. Is something wrong? I noticed you didn't recognize me when I came in."

"Forgive me, Mrs. Ellen, my parents always spoke of your kind heart. Well... my name is Bianca, and I lost my sight 4 years ago in a fall."

Bianca grew up hearing her parents praise Ellen's goodness, despite her suffering from a disappointing marriage and the humiliations dealt by Otavio's father.

Ellen was deeply saddened by the accident; she hadn't kept close touch with the family of her husband's adviser. The last she had heard, the girls were quite young, so she didn't remember Bianca's name.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. And your father, what happened?"

Bianca let her tears flow as she heard the question, overwhelmed with grief. Ellen immediately hugged her, offering comfort.

"He likely died from a heart attack, burdened by my sister’s actions."

"Why did your sister do this? Wasn't she aware everyone could have been dead by now?"

"She was, indeed aware, but she didn’t consider us when she fled. Now I’m compelled to take her place, to atone for her choice."

Ellen looked at her sadly; Bianca seemed like a good person, and now Ellen feared her son might mistreat her in retaliation for her sister's actions. Ellen knew her son too well.

Then she handed the breakfast tray to Bianca.

"Eat, dear. You need your strength; today will be a long day."

"I'm not hungry."

"Please, at least eat a piece of cake and drink this juice. Think of your mother—she wouldn't want you to go without food."

Amid her tears, Bianca managed to eat a little.

Soon, the team arrived to prepare the bride, so Bianca took a bath and donned a robe that Ellen had given her.

The tedious wedding preparations began.

Manicurist, hairstylist, and makeup artist were at work, while the stylist raced against time to take in the dress here and there, since Bianca was slightly slimmer than her sister.

The makeup artist was distressed because Bianca couldn’t stop crying, thinking of her dearly departed father and filled with concern for her mother, as well as the prospect of suffering in her sister’s stead…

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