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southern Italians. Both Adam and Fiorella had gotten their father’s lighter characteristics. He used to taunt them as children that Serena wasn’t their real mother, but they knew that wasn’t true.
    Off to the kitchen to prepare food and drinks, Serena left them alone for a few minutes. Although used to her slight limp, both her children felt a pang of sadness, knowing it was a result of Claudio’s physical abuse years earlier. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, a conversation in English ensued; Adam was used to speaking it, and Fiorella spoke it nearly as well. He’d arranged tutoring for her, knowing it would be a valuable ability in the business world.
    “Adam,” she said, knowing he was used to his American name. “Tell me everything. What have you been doing? I want to know all.”
    Adam told her the highlights of business, as much as she would understand. She’d just turned eighteen, but stayed at home. In Brazil, it wasn’t so easy for a young girl to move out on her own. He made sure to linger over details about food and restaurants, knowing that she planned to open her own establishment. For most young Brazilian women that would be an unreachable goal, but his sister was a talented cook, accomplished with many types of cuisine. Of Italian descent, she was familiar with Portuguese, Brazilian, and Italian alike. Adam had assured her that restaurants were good business in the tourist areas of the city, and it would be a good investment. Thus he’d volunteered to provide the capital for her venture.
    Fiorella’s local restaurant wouldn’t open until the current family situation was under control. The procedures for opening a commercial establishment had already been started as the time and cost involved was extensive, so Adam knew it was wise to start early. Utilizing his strong partnerships with trusted Brazilian law firms and local business, progress was being made.
    “Is she okay?” he asked Fiorella, referring to the bandage on his mother’s cheek.
    His sister sighed and ran her fingers through her fine hair. “Yes, the doctor says she is,” Fiorella replied, “but she may have a scar.”
    Adam felt adrenaline course through his veins at the thought of what had happened. “I still don’t see how he got in,” he said, fuming.
    “No, no he didn’t. The way this place is guarded; I don’t think he’d try that. It was when she was out. She’d gone to lunch with some friends, and Claudio waited until she went alone to the ladies’ room. In the dark of the hallway, he grabbed her, scared her to death.
    “He wanted to know exactly where you were. We’ve never told him about your home in Newport, and he watches your place here, knows you aren’t around.
    “He’s desperate to reach you, Adam. He’s crazed. He threatened her, told her that if she didn’t tell him where you were that he’d hurt her. And he meant it, I know he did.
    “Mamma fought. She was angry, and struggled, but he’s much stronger. Yet she slipped from his grip. But in her attempt to flee, she slipped and cut her cheek on a metal ledge…where the pay phone was. It cut deep.
    “Seeing her injured, he disappeared. Mamma screamed and several servers rushed to her. She was taken to the hospital right away, and had stitches. The cut was jagged, and the doctor thinks she may always have a mark. Or maybe plastic surgery could fix it, if she decides to do that.”
    Adam clenched his fists. “He’s crazy. Claudio is crazy,” he said, spitting out his father’s first name. Neither he, nor his sister, ever called him father. They never had, not feeling the love of a father since they were children. Claudio was all they’d ever called him, if they spoke to him at all.
    He was crushed that his mother had been injured because of him. In Claudio’s desperation to get his claws into his son again, he’d harmed Serena, his dear mother. It was unforgivable. Adam had all his property in California under a corporate