Gino
Temptation. Why do you pursue me? You bring me neither peace nor joy. And it answers: Likewise…
Alexey Komissarenko

Translator Galina Vikentievna Valyaeva

© Alexey Komissarenko, 2025

© Galina Vikentievna Valyaeva, translation, 2025

ISBN 978-5-0065-2760-7

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Chapter 1. Sign from above
Genoa, October 5, 2020

Religion is a bulwark for the salvation of the soul on the path to the Creator, in a world of inconsolable human suffering.

The clock on the bedroom floor struck midnight. Its shape was very unusual. The form of a large elongated drop. Its rounded, black-lacquered rosewood case had roots at the base, skillfully reconstructed by a woodworker into streams flowing from the stand. The surreal contours of the gilded dial looked like a blurring puddle. Looking at them, one could get a sense of the chaotic passage of time. That’s what Gino, a great admirer of the brilliant work of Spanish painter Salvador Dali, thought. In pursuit of originality, Gino was always looking for something unusual, non-standard, including interior elements.

Four workshops were involved in the creation of such an unusual clock: a carpenter’s, a watchmaker’s, a blacksmith’s, a jeweler’s. The carpenter’s workshop was responsible for the wooden case, the watchmaker’s – for the movement, the blacksmith’s – for the dial and stand, and the jeweler’s – for application of gold leaf to the numerals, hands and bezel, which served a purely decorative function. When he made such an original order, Gino did not think that it would take several months to complete it. But when everything was ready, he was amazed at the result. He was thrilled to bits. Although when looked at his watch, Gino was primarily proud of himself: “Wow! That was an extraordinary idea – to make a reality of the works of a great artist. And now the magnificent work of art is ready. Hardly anyone else has the same.” he flattered himself.

But that was in the past. Now the clock, like many things around, only caused irritation.

Looking at it intensely, he poured another glass of whiskey without ice and went to the mirror hanging on the bedroom wall. Gino stared at his reflection, already seeing double, because he had too much of alcohol.

“Tell me, who are you, the one who lives in this body?” he hissed angrily. “Don’t hide, show your true face! Why are you hiding? Come on, show yourself,” he continued, raising his tone. “Who are you?! I want to see you!”

Smiling sarcastically, he began to grimace, trying to ridicule the person who was supposed to appear in the mirror. But nothing changed there, Gino still could see only himself.

“Show yourself, show yourself, show yourself!” he repeated through his teeth, squinting like a madman. His eyes sparkled with anger, and a smile resembling an animal grin appeared on his face. Suddenly he saw something creepy in the reflection instead of himself. Gino jumped back, and threw a glass at the mirror with a scream. It shattered and fell onto the floor with a clatter. Running out of the bedroom and down the marble staircase to the first floor, he literally flew out of the house. He turned back to make sure no one was following him, and tried to open the car door with a shaking hand. It was pouring. Because of the water, the lock didn’t recognize his fingerprint and the door would not open. But maybe he could not get behind the wheel because he was prevented by some dark force…

“This house and I are cursed!” he whispered angrily with trembling lips.

After another touch, the car door suddenly opened. He saw that his Labrador named Charlie (at French manner “Sharlie”), ran out into the yard with him and sensed the approaching disaster: she was barking and whining, running around her owner. Gino tried to stop her, but she jumped into the car and pressed herself against the back of the passenger seat.

He got behind the wheel, very drunk, but that didn’t stop him. Starting the engine and putting it in drive mode, Gino pushed the accelerator pedal all the way down. Hundreds of horsepower, hidden under the hood of the sports car, burst out with the roar of a predatory panther. The wheels squealed, the car skidded a little, but having managed to control it, he drove toward the coast of Genoa, where he enjoyed walking along the cliffs, admiring sunsets and sunrises over the sea.

But there was only one thing pulling him there at that moment, and that was to let the heavy energy and negative emotions out. The feelings were all mixed up. There was pain, fear, anger. And they were all bursting out, he wanted to yell.

Given the amount of alcohol in his blood, it was literally a miracle that he managed to get to the coast.

During the journey, he blew off steam of his emotions and calmed down a little.

When he arrived, Gino took an umbrella out of the car door and, holding it above his head, headed for the edge of the steep cliffs by the sea.

It was still pouring; the wind was blowing hard. As he approached the edge of the cliff, he stopped. Then he took another step. At that moment, his right foot slipped off the rock, but Gino managed to hold on and not fall down. For a moment, he was paralyzed with fear.

The raging elements were crashing huge waves against the rocks. Lightning flashed in the night sky. The second day in a row, a storm warning was officially announced.

Later, all the media would have an article about several people who had drowned those days in Genoa.

Gino was standing on the edge and looking down at the water. The plot of the painting called “The Game” by the Russian artist Alexander Kulikov, hanging in the living room of his house, was spinning in his head. It depicted seven young men in black tuxedos in their early twenties. Three girls and three guys who stood in a semicircle near the edge of the cliff. And the seventh participant of the game is a young man, who is blindfolded and with his arms stretched forward trying to catch the others. He is walking toward the cliff…

He has a white smile on his face, and he only has to take a step when his foot is already hovering over the abyss, and in a second he will fall down, but he doesn’t know it. His entourage applauds loudly, some people laugh, some put their fingers in their mouths, whistle, and one couple merged in a passionate kiss, paying no attention to those around them… None of those in the picture will shout to him: “Stop!”

Gino associated himself with the main character of the painting, who will die in a moment, but no one present around him will not even try to save him.

No, Gino did not want to commit suicide at all. On the contrary, his goal was to overcome the circumstances of life. Just to continue living in a different way. That’s the only thing he wanted at that moment. But at the same time, the pros and cons were all mixed up in his head. Emotions prevailed over the reason.

Gino took another small step to the very edge.

“Let it be as it should be! This is the line between life and death, between the past and the future,” the thought flashed through his mind, sharp as executioner’s ax.

“But I have the right to control the situation! I don’t have to step over the line. I’m blindfoldless, and I know I’ll die if I step forward. And a step backwards in this case means salvation! Yes, yes, at least I’ll have a choice of how to live my life,” the sobered consciousness shouted for a moment.

“On the other hand, I know where I’m going to, but I don’t know which way is the right way,” he whispered softly.

Gino looked up to the sky with a sense of resentment towards fate.

“Why me! Why is this all happening to me!!! Where is the way out?” he asked himself nagging questions. “How do I live on? There’s no one to help me.”

The response was immediate. It was more of a hint, though. A sharp gust of wind ripped the umbrella from his hands and blew it into the sea. He shuddered with surprise and froze, but immediately pulled himself together, realized that he should stop feeling sorry for himself. He took it as a sign from above…

In one moment his suit got wet. Charlie, who was shaking from the cold, whimpered, but he paid no attention to her.

“God help me!”

Gino looked up to the sky again and said in a tired but hopeful voice.

“I know that everything is Your will. Absolutely everything! I know it now and I believe it. You send us trials and we must pass them. But I don’t have the strength to fight anymore. I completely rely only on you. Let it be as you wish it to be. Please, Lord, help me!”

As soon as he finished the last sentence, the phone rang in his pocket. Surprised and confused, he pulled it out, and saw that it was Elena. But the water on the screen didn’t let him pick up the phone.

“Damn electronics!” he squeezed out angrily. He nervously ran his finger over the glass. At the same moment the phone slipped out of his hands and flew down. While trying to catch it, Gino, drunk as he was, lost his balance and stumbled off the cliff into the sea. Charlie jumped after him.

He hit the surface of the water with his back and felt severe pain. As he surfaced, Gino began thrashing his arms around. But his shoes and wet clothes pulled him down to the bottom. He tore the buttons of his jacket and shirt off and threw them together with his shoes. Suddenly his legs cramped, and they stopped obeying to him. Realizing that he might drown, Gino lay on his back and continued paddling towards the shore with his hands. The current was so strong that the waves began to carry him further and further out to sea.

“Help! Help! Somebody! Charlie, Charlie, where are you?!”

A cry of despair burst from his chest.

Senior lifeguard Alonso, seeing a man jumping off the cliff on the coastal camera monitor, raised the alarm.

“There’s a suicide! The man jumped into the water. Red alarm. Get your diving gear! Everyone into the rescue boat!”

When they boarded, Gino was already far from the shore. His back ached unbearably. His legs were completely numb from the cramps. He began to pray, saying goodbye to life. Paddling hard with his hands, trying to stay on the surface, he was still moving away from the land.

“How come?! How come? I’m going to drown! Why God?!”

Thoughts of imminent death began to attack his mind. He was seized with horror and panic.

“God, I beg you, help me! God, help me!” he prayed to God, helplessly trying to get out of the clutches of the elements.

The rescuers switched on the searchlights on board and started moving at low speeds. For a long time, they were carefully scanning the surface of the water. They almost lost the hope of finding him.

“There he is! I see him! Turn that way!” shouted Alonso, seeing Gino’s head. About thirty meters away from them.

The bright light of the flickering searchlights blinded Gino.

“Thank you, Jesus!” he silently thanked God.

But another wave came over his head. He was already completely out of strength and couldn’t move his arms.

“Here…” he whispered. And, choking, he went down.

In a moment the boat came very close to the place where Gino’s head disappeared, and Alonso and his assistant dived under the water.

Thanks to the lighting equipment on the boat and the diving suits, they were able to see Gino. Still at a shallow depth. With incredible efforts, they swam up to him. Gino was no longer showing signs of life. Alonso put an oxygen mask on his face, but he remained motionless.

When they surfaced, another part of the crew lifted him to the deck. Elisa, the lifeguard, felt for a pulse, shined a flashlight into his eyes and, after checking the pupil response, began CPR.

“What is it?” came out of the radio the excited voice of Riccardo, the Coast Guard chief, who was waiting in the rescue building. “Did you get him aboard? Is he alive?!”

“Yes, he’s on board,” reported Alonso through ragged breaths. “He’s still unconscious, but he’s got a pulse. We’re doing everything we can!”

“I’m watching the video. Why didn’t you take action right away?!” screamed Riccardo. “Why didn’t anyone go earlier to ask him what he was doing over the cliff? Were you waiting for him to jump off?!”

Without waiting for an answer, he angrily muted the radio, ending the connection.

Chapter 2. Piercing gaze
A month earlier…

From a young age, Gino was involved in the family business of his father, Alberto Pensieri, who was once quite a successful restaurateur in Italy. But six months ago, after contracting a coronavirus and failing to survive a lung complication, Alberto died in St. Raphael’s Hospital in Milan. The elderly man’s body could not cope with the disease. It was disheartening for Gino, who was still saddened by the fact that his father was no longer with him.

After his father’s death, he took full charge of the family business.

Unfortunately, the pandemic in Italy not only took the life of the closest person, but also dealt a blow to the economy of Pensieri’s restaurant empire. The company was on the verge of bankruptcy at that time. In this regard, a board meeting was organized.

A month before his tragic fall from the cliff, Gino came for a meeting to his office of the restaurant chain Antiche Tradizioni di Pensieri – “Ancient Traditions of Pensieri” – in the center of Milan. Self-contained on the outside, but very tense on the inside. He slowly walked into a huge hall with a round table where his business partners and subordinates were sitting. Everyone greeted him.

He cast a piercing glance at those present, greeted them quietly in return and sat down at the table.

Gino had a really expressive, intimidating look. When he was in a bad mood, people even at a great distance from him felt uncomfortable and wanted to turn away. During the dialog, he could stare intently at a person with eyes as dark as the abyss. From time to time it even caused a feeling of animal fear in some interlocutors.

Gino was the main shareholder and owner of the inherited company. A luxury-loving dreamer, he indulged in pleasures. Traveling all over the world, he uncontrollably spent fortunes on entertainment and gambling, wanting to take everything from life at once.

Renting a large yacht and sitting on its deck, he used to dream of the geometric progression of his restaurant business. However, he did not want to participate in business processes and interact professionally with his colleagues. Gino relied only on his own despotism towards top management and employees.

Even during his father’s lifetime, the affairs of the Pensieri family began to deteriorate. But Gino, an impulsive lover of colorful life, did not want to delve into the intricacies of crisis management processes. And a pandemic, that was claiming thousands of lives, a sharp decline in Italian tourism and endless lockdown restrictions for public places, were bringing the company closer to ruin.

Even his chair at the round table in the conference room testified to Gino’s high self-importance. It was made of red sandalwood, upholstered in black crocodile leather, and had an unnaturally high backrest. It looked more like an emperor’s throne than a negotiating chair.

“Colleagues, we’ve been together all these years, this is our common business.”

Gino began his speech quietly but confidently.

“The future of the company will depend on the decision we come to today. Who wants to speak first?”

Mario, the Deputy General Manager, was the first to start. He used to be and still was a trusted employee of the company and a loyal friend to Gino, despite the fact that the latter often shouted at Mario unfairly and humiliatingly during general meetings, in the presence of his colleagues. They had been friends since childhood, and Mario’s father had once worked for Gino’s father as well.

A few years ago, Mario lost his small sewing business inherited from his uncle Gustavo, and Gino generously invited him to join his company.

“Unfortunately, due to the pandemic, our restaurants are empty, we can’t wait any longer,” began Mario in a slightly subdued and fearful tone. “The Minister of Health doesn’t give predictions for future restrictions and deadlines. We don’t know how long they will last. Gino, we are confused, all hope is on you. The insurance doesn’t cover our costs, we need external investment to breathe new life into our business or redesign it.”

“Gino, I think,” added one of Uberto’s shareholders. “It’s time for us to bet on catering or fast food and delivery.”

“Yes, I know, we’re on the verge of bankruptcy,” responded Gino a little irritated. “Our company is making losses and could be sold at any moment. To prevent that from happening, I have to take out a loan. But there are risks that this won’t help, so I have one question for you: who will stay with me and go to the end? But think well, as it will be quite difficult for the top management to get a new job after leaving a bankrupt company! Although it’s all due to damn Covid, it’s unlikely that your new employers will be bothered.”

He paused and began to gaze into the eyes of those present.

“So, what’s your decision? he asked after a while. “Sergio. And you, why are you silent?”

“Gino, I’ve always been honest with you,” Sergio, the General Director, joined the conversation. “And now I realize that in this situation we need a crisis manager. Since I’ve failed and I feel that I can no longer risk the future of the company. I’m resigning. I can’t take that responsibility,” he stood up from the table and, having stretched out, added, “I’m sorry, Gino. I did the best I could.”

Then he walked out the door.

Gino was silent in response…

“Who else wants to take a seat in the lifeboat?” arrogantly said Gino, after a moment of anger.

There was silence in the hall, no one wanted to speak and look into his eyes.

“Okay, I agree with you. Let’s change the vector of business. We need a loan,” he added dismally. “But since, to our mutual regret, the banks have refused credit, I will have to borrow money from Don Caponelli.”

They discussed the details for a while longer, then he thanked everybody and got up from the table. The other participants of the meeting stood up with him. He nodded slowly, said goodbye, and left the hall.

Chapter 3. Obsession

After leaving the office building, Gino got into a Rolls-Royce car, which brought by Francesca to the exit.

Gino loved women, and for that reason surrounded himself with them, even his driver was a beautiful Francesca with long white dyed hair. By request of her boss she was always dressed in tight clothes, which emphasized her athletic figure, ample breasts and narrow waist. Her flawless appearance literally drew admiration from Gino. Francesca was also his bodyguard. Knowing that she had served in special forces, he never worried about his safety. Although there was no reason to worry. Rather, it was just another desire to impress people around him.

Having got into the car, he leaned back in the back seat and put his head on the headrest. Gino closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again to look at the buildings outside the window.

As they were driving past the Catholic Cathedral of the Nativity of Saint Mary in the center of Milan, he asked Francesca to pull over. Gino decided to go inside.

She parked the car.

Reaching for the door handle, he suddenly felt his heart beat faster. Gino became very nervous, but he pulled himself together, opened the door, and got out of the car.

Standing in front of the cathedral building, he stretched tensely and walked toward it. With each step the dizziness began to intensify, his heartbeat increased, and he started sweating. Gino suddenly felt a panic attack and lost control of himself. He had the urge to run away, to disappear, to hide.

“What’s happening to me?” thoughts pulsated in his head. “This is a cathedral and I’m just a human, why am I so nervous? Why am I shaking so much every time? Is it obsession?!”

The anxious thoughts were interrupted by Rosalina’s call. She was waiting for him for a haircut at her salon.

“Rosalina, hi. I’ll be on time as always,” he picked up the phone and replied briefly.

He immediately got back into the car and exhaled heavily in relief.

“OK, I’ll go to the cathedral next time. Now let’s go to Rosalina’s,” Gino commanded Francesca.

For many years, from time to time, being a Catholic, baptized in childhood at the request of his parents, he had tried to go to church. But some invisible force always stopped him. Something inexplicable and irresistible began to happen to him. And every time, unable to cope with his emotions, he put off visiting the cathedral.

Chapter 4. In the power of hypnosis

As he pulled up to the salon, he got out of the car and headed for the entrance. Always stylish and impeccably dressed, an arrogant snob Gino walked confidently into the luxurious salon. There was only Rosalina inside. Officially, the salon was considered closed. Visitors came only by prior arrangement with her.

“Hi, Rosalina!” he said to the hairdresser with a broad smile.

He immediately kissed her on the cheek, hugging her lightly, but without any eye contact or holding hands. For a moment, their eyes met at close distance, and for a short period of time she fell into a trance. Aware of this, Gino averted his eyes, walked into the hall, and sat down in the haircutting chair.

“You look wonderful! How are you doing, Rosalina?” he asked with a wide smile.

“I’m fine, thank you…” being a little out of control from the sensations after meeting his eyes, she answered in a slightly sluggish but excited voice. “You looked at me so strangely, as if you were burning me with fire! Has anyone ever told you this before?”

“Hmmm… No, this is the first time I’ve heard it!” parried Gino with a gracious smile.

But after her question, as had happened many times before, he felt a sudden desire to seduce the beautiful woman immediately, right there and then.

Not so long ago, driven by the impulse of spiritual purification, he wanted to visit the church, but the look of a pretty woman switched him to the sinful passion.

“Come to me!” he said in a low but commanding tone. And at the same time laid back in his chair.

Rosalina, not realizing what was happening, obediently took a step forward.

“Closer, closer! Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you!”

He was staring into her eyes with an imperious look. When she came close, he took her hands. Rosalina’s lips parted, her breathing quickened.

With a swift motion Gino put her on his knee. Bright as fire, the red-haired beauty hugged him tightly and began to kiss him. A moment later, completely out of control, she ripped off her blouse. Rising from the chair, Gino lifted her up, and Rosalina jumped on top of him and wrapped her legs around him. He immediately headed into the next room. Since the next visitors could come in at any moment.

Gino’s hypnosis grew fierce passion between them. Rosalina had no idea that this was hypnotism. However, like all the other female victims of his gift. She was in a deep trance, thinking that she was in control of what was happening to her as if it were her natural desire. But she was mistaken, like all the other victims who fall under the influence of Gino’s hypnosis.

After a while, having received what he wanted, he left the room and sat quietly in the cutting chair.

His intuition had not failed him. Indeed, another visitor was already waiting for Rosalina.

“Hello, where’s Rosalina?” asked the girl.

“Good afternoon, she’ll come out now,” he replied with a smug smile.

Rosalina got dressed in the next room. When she came out, she greeted the female visitor and, having cast an absolutely cold glance at Gino, began to cut his hair. He simply closed his eyes and plunged into his thoughts, knowing that along with hypnosis, the passion and volcano-like feelings, that women experience for him under its influence during their intimacy, disappear.

When Rosalina finished with his hair, Gino thanked her and left for his home.

Chapter 5. Within the walls of the house

He had a two-story house near Milan, near the coast of Genoa, with columns and an external facade in the ancient design.

The maid Alba opened the door. She greeted Gino and looked down. He silently passed by and immediately took the elevator to the second floor. He came into the bedroom and collapsed on the huge bed right in his raincoat.

Lying on bed, he reached out to the bedside table and took a photo frame with a picture inside. It showed his parents running happily along the seashore and holding eight-year-old Gino’s hands.

He was silent for a long time, looking at the photo.

“Mom, dad, I miss you so much now,” he said quietly. “How I want to hug you, I’m so lonely! I’m tired… The business is going down. Dad, I’m failing. If Caponelli doesn’t give me the money, I’ll lose everything. But that’s not the worst of it. The main thing is that I’m tired of being alone: I fall asleep alone, I wake up alone. I want a family so much. I dream about my home to be filled with love and children’s joyful cries. Mom, remember you said: “When my grandchildren are born, I want to walk with a stroller, babysit my little Ginies and ride them on a steam train around the fountain in the park.” But this never happened, mom… I’m sorry…

“Mommy,” he said, looking out the bedroom window, “You and my father are now in heaven, you see everything and pray for me, I know… I’m grateful for the love and care you surrounded me with all my life. You both gave me so much. I have everything now, but I can lose this ‘everything’ due to bankruptcy. You know, I’m not really afraid of this. Because why do I need all these benefits for myself if I don’t have the most important thing – family and children?”

Tears literally sprang from his eyes at the last sentence. These were tears that had accumulated over the years.

Having calmed down a little, Gino lay for a long time hugging the photo with his eyes closed.

“What are you missing?!” at some point he heard an inner voice. “You’re whining, whining: family, children. Yes, billions of men would like to be in your place! You can seduce any woman with just one look. There’s no need to give palaces, cars, diamonds, you just need to look into her eyes and take her hands – she’s yours!”

But no, you can’t get enough. You are tormenting yourself in search of true love, evidence of which would be the birth of children!

My dear friend, listen to what I’ll tell you. These married signoras are so naughty; you should see what they do with their lovers when their husbands are not around. And these endless correspondences about secret desires! But, despite this, they still have some thoughts they don’t share even with their lovers.

And just imagine, you meet one like that, fall in love, and she starts cheating on you. Then you find out about it, it’s extremely painful, and you want to break up. But your darling, being very crafty, sheds a sea of tears with pleas for forgiveness, brazing it out as if it was just your imagination. Moreover, with all that feminine tricks, she makes you guilty of this situation, citing a lack of your proper attention and other nonsense. You start feeling guilty and forgive her, and you live happily ever after, until infidelity separates you for some time, and then everything happens again, and again, and again, and many more times in a circle. Pain, pain, pain! That’s what so-called love promises you!

And you? Will you be able to remain faithful? After all, you love “sweets” so much. Think about it!

Well, children always bring with them a feeling of fear for their health, safety, and fate. They are nerve-wracking and will give you sleepless nights till their adulthood, and after adulthood also sleepless days. Think, Gino, do you need these problems?..

And remember: there’s one condition for possessing the gift of hypnosis: if you continue to look for love and find it, you’ll lose this phenomenal opportunity of easy access to beautiful bodies!”

“Yes, your monologue is convincing,” replied Gino firmly. “But I disagree with you on some points. I’m a grown man and this won’t scare me. I’ve had enough of beautiful unwary women, but now it’s not about them, it’s about me. They all disappear from my life right after our intimacy. They don’t care about my feelings, and this hurts my man’s pride. I’m looking for someone who, in response to my feelings, will love me sincerely and so much that there will be no room left for us even to think about cheating. Even if such feelings are rare for our time, I’m going to look for her and find her!”

As for children, I’ll tell you this. If that’s the way the humanity thinks about children, they’ll soon be extinct as a species. From now on, I’m going to ask everyone I seduced about their feelings for me, I’ll keep asking them. I’ll find the truth! Although no, I won’t seduce anyone anymore, I’ll simply talk to women, just talk about love. But from a distance. No more hypnosis. That’s it, I’ve had enough of loneliness!

At that moment, Gino heard a deafening laugh that sounded as if it was in his head.

“Who are you? Shouted Gino. “Show yourself, show yourself!”

The laughter began to intensify. Suddenly Gino woke up in horror and realized that it was a dream. His eyes were watering badly and hurting unbearably. He jumped out of bed and dripped anesthetic into them.

The hands on the clock showed half past one in the morning.

The dream felt like reality. For a few more minutes, the echoes of laughter continued in his head. Finally, awake, Gino lay down on the bed again.

“What a dream!” he thought. Tranquilizers don’t help at all. I wake up five times a night. I need to increase the dosage. I’m so tired of it.”

“I wish I could talk to someone now.”

Gino sighed and, feeling overwhelming urge to talk, decided: “Shall I try to find a common language with Alba? But she’s too young and has never been married. For her, the words family and children probably belong to the category of a distant, bleak future. Okay, I won’t think about it for her. We’ll talk and see.”

Realizing how late it was and that she was most likely asleep, Gino hesitated a while, but nevertheless decisively pressed the call button, inviting Alba for a frank conversation about her feelings.

Chapter 6. Dialogue with Alba

Alba was very pretty, but insecure and lonely twenty-four years old girl with low self-esteem, and wearing huge awkward glasses. She always dressed in gray, as if to spite the opposite sex. But her rounded body, natural cuteness and plump lips still drew men’s sympathy.

She had an incomplete university degree in psychology. Alba could not graduate from the institute because in disputes with male teachers she had her own point of view on everything. Her hidden complexes used to burst out when it came to her own observations in psychology. She often made scandals and threw tantrums at the teachers. Everyone understood that this could not go on any longer. And one day, in the middle of the third year, Alba was expelled by mutual decision of the higher educational institution’s management.

For her it was a blow not only morally, but also financially. While studying, she received a scholarship and lived in a women’s boarding house at the institute.

Endless ordeals began in search of work and housing. That was followed by attempts to open her own psychologist’s office, but, alas, clients could not stand her “original” methods, they often didn’t show up for the second session.

The time came when she had nothing to eat and no money to pay her rent. So she applied to a staffing agency for domestic work. At the interview, Alba made every effort to disguise her temper and was able to do so quite successfully. She was accepted.

She quickly settled into the routine and got used to the status of a servant, because it was a stable income and the roof of a luxurious house over her head. From the first days, Alba showed herself as a clean, tidy, order-loving girl even in small things. She was indeed almost obsessed with cleanliness, terrified of dust and dirt.

Gino liked that. They were even a little alike in their pursuit of sterility. She had been working for him for six months.

When she heard the bell, which Gino used to summon her, Alba went up to the second floor and, opened the tall, massive door smoothly, and entered the bedroom with a haughty look of a senorita from a noble family.

Trying on this role, she had a feeling of a “proudish bossiness.” Although, in fact, it was just a mask covering the nature of an immature girl in the search for herself.

“Yes, Signor. Did you call me?” she asked coldly and deliberately.

He gazed at her for a while.

“Sorry for waking you up,” said Gino quietly. “This may not seem like a good time. But we need to talk.

“It’s okay, Signor. What exactly do you want to talk about?”

“Alba, I want to ask you something. Your answer is important to me!”

“Yes, of course, sir. Ask me.”

“Just be honest with me! Fine?”

“Yes, I’ll try.”

“So… Have you ever experienced a feeling for a man, similar to strong affection, like a longing to be together forever? That feeling that everyone so enthusiastically calls love! Or something?..”

He paused for a moment to find the right words.

“I think I understand what you want to talk about,” Alba suddenly interrupted his pause. “In fact, this is a sensitive subject for me. That’s why I don’t like all these sentiments and so on. But okay, I’ll be honest with you,” she continued in an arrogant tone.

“I remember when I was little. My dad would often come home at night, drunk, with traces of lipstick on his shirt. My mom would meet him and ask him where he’d been and who he’d been with. He sent her to hell and used his fists. Then he would go to bed as if nothing had happened, and she would sit sobbing like an idiot in the corner of the kitchen.

I asked her once. If she loved my father. Who couldn’t even be called a father. He never cuddled me, never hugged me. Well, I don’t remember his care and affection. I can’t remember! So, she said: of course, I love him, my daughter!

What kind of love is there to talk about?! It’s just an addiction and nothing more! But many people live in such a nightmare. As a family psychologist, albeit with little experience, I “ve heard similar stories quite often.

Now, years later, I have a question for all women who allow themselves to be humiliated like this: how can you love despots like my daddy and others like him?! Most likely, women do this not from a great mind!.. But my mom, as she thought, loved him. And that’s why she forgave him everything! And then one day he just didn’t come home. Disappeared, vanished. She was worried and couldn’t find piece. Calling friends, looking for him. And a few days later, a close friend of hers admitted that she’d been dating him for a long time. And daddy was living with her. That’s how it happens… In one fell swoop, love and friendship were gone.

Then my stepdad came into my life. He was a real asshole. One day he opened the door to the apartment where we lived, completely naked. He nonchalantly said hello and locked himself in his room. I was super creeped out and I even threw up. I didn’t tell my mom anything. But it kept happening more and more often. Every time I was disgusted with his behavior. From that time on, I became wary of men.”

Alba was speaking of her stepfather with contempt. Staring intently at Gino at the same time.

Gino even thought she was addressing her speech to him.

“Later, when I was fifteen, I met a very handsome boy from a neighboring street, his name was Michael. I realized that I liked him very much, and came to my mother to tell her about it. Mom listened to me and answered very harshly, and it wasn’t what I wanted to hear at all: “Daughter, I “ve lived a long life, and I know for sure that this is your first love. Sorry, my girl, but you must remember that men are polygamous and he’ll leave you when he meets another one. And then, a new man will appear in your life and he will love you, but you will be cold towards him.”

Mom told me about her life with my dad and stepfather. It made my blood run cold, I was scared, but she continued trying to protect me from suffering: “Alba, I can’t give you a good advice what to do. I know one thing, if you are more unapproachable and cautious, your relationship may last longer. Learn not to lose your head over a man. I want you to be much happier than I am!”

I’ve had several men in my life. And they’re all gone. They all just used me. Now, years later, I understand what my mom meant. That’s why I just want to be alone now.”

Gino suddenly felt uncomfortable with the fact that he had already seduced Alba several times with his hypnosis. Even though, on the other hand, he knew, that despite the fact that respect for women in Italy is instilled in boys from childhood, a man’s nature is stronger. And women love men’s dominance over them. Of course, in case a woman has a sense of security coming from a man. But, what Alba had told him was a revelation.

“Alba, tell me, do you have feelings for me?” asked Gino with hope in his voice, but somehow with a bit of skepticism. “But tell me the truth, even if I may not like it!”

“To tell you the truth, just like that?” Alba got excited.

Gino became concerned.

“Well, actually, yes. As it is.”

“OK, if you insist, I’ll be honest!

You are always so cold and arrogant looking at me like I’m nothing. I’m just a servant to you. Part of the interior, nothing more. You’re asking how I feel about you?! Absolutely nothing, a vacuum! You use me, just like everyone else did. You use me because I’m helpless. You sleep with me whenever you want, as if I’m a call girl. But I am a person! I don’t understand why I don’t refuse you. I don’t feel anything for you at all. Sometimes you burn me with a sexual passion which I can’t control. I don’t know why. In fact, probably I sleep with you because I’m afraid of losing my job.

With a smirk on her face she stood up and headed towards the door.

“Please, don’t fire me,” she suddenly stopped before leaving. “I just couldn’t keep quite any longer, especially since you wanted to hear the truth. As my stepfather – a drunken poet, as he called himself, and a pervert and alcoholic in fact, used to say:

Emotions are a luxury, that sometimes even emperors cannot afford. Especially those emotions that are caused by Her Majesty the Bitter Truth.

Although, if you fire me, I won’t be too upset. There’s always a senior who wants to take in a young lady. But I don’t want that either. To be honest, it makes me sick!”

All that was so sudden that stunned Gino became angry at what he had heard, and wanted to shout after her: “You need a psychiatrist! Drama queen!” But he dismissed the idea, realizing that it was his anger speaking. He held back because it was clear: Alba was being used by men, including himself. That’s why she’s so embittered.

He decided to change from within, realizing that it was not about women, but about himself…

Chapter 7. Fireplace

When Alba left, Gino got out of bed, changed into a robe, and went down to the dining room. He went to the refrigerator, took out a piece of cold rare beef steak. He cut it up and began to eat it, washing it down with warm red wine.

There was dead and, at the same time, deafening in its constancy silence in the house.

Having finished his dinner, he wiped his lips with a white cotton napkin, tossed it carelessly on the table and headed for the living room.

It was a large empty room with a minimalist design and not an ounce of coziness. Opposite the fireplace there were two bowl-like, dark red armchairs, made in the futuristic style of the 60s, with unnaturally high and narrow backs. The fireplace, on the other hand, was made in the form of a gate with two cast-iron wings and a semicircular arch at the top. It was about four meters high and three meters wide. The left wing was always slightly ajar. There was a huge broken lock on the floor, which, as Gino thought, symbolized the detabooing prohibitions with the goal of tasting the fruits of a sinful life. Inside, figures in the form of sinners, burning in hell, were carved in stone above the flames. Due to the play of light and shadow from the fire, the characters literally came to life. Some of them looked so terrifying and realistic that it seemed one could hear their gut-wrenching screams.

Gino entered the living room, went to the bar, took out a bottle of whiskey, poured some alcohol and added ice. Then, with an elegant gesture, opened a box of cigars, lit one, and with a full glass in his hands headed towards the fireplace.

The lights in the living room were dimmed, which added a feeling of loneliness in the large hall. He turned on “Requiem,” a masterpiece written by Mozart shortly before the composer’s death, and went closer to the fireplace.

First, Gino went to the coffee table near the armchairs, put down the glass, and, having rested the cigar in the ashtray, put his hands in the pockets of his silk robe. He took a few steps towards the fireplace, peering at the eerie images. His heart started pounding. He stretched his hands toward the flame, squatted and started looking at the fire. Bringing them very close, Gino tried to overcome the pain and endure as much as he could. His eyes reflected fear and the light of the flame. Feeling that he was badly burned, he yanked his hands, pursing his lips in pain. His eyes sparkled with anger because he couldn’t control the pain. Abruptly he stood up and staggered back, looked at the table, took the whiskey and drank it all at once. Gino took a drag off his cigar and exhaled the smoke, then settled comfortably in his chair. When he calmed down a little, he looked at the large painting “The Game” by the Russian artist Alexander Kulikov, hanging to the right of the fireplace. It was the same painting, the subject of which would later run through his mind a moment before he lost his balance and plunged off a cliff into the sea.

As he looked at the characters playing with death over the abyss, he associated himself either with an indifferent audience or with a desperate fool risking his life for fun. But at the same time, they all evoked some kind of contempt in him. He started reflecting on the characters in the picture: on the one hand, Gino’s self-criticism helped to find their flaws in himself, but, on the other hand, his high self-esteem yelled: “No, no, you’re not like them!”

Still, he somehow didn’t really want to be a rascal or a fool like the characters depicted there.

At the same time, it was interesting what prompted the main character to put on a blindfold and take a risk of his life at the edge of a cliff.

“Maybe he lost a bet?” thought Gino. “Or maybe he owed something and didn’t pay it back. Or maybe they all, taking turns putting on the blindfold, are recklessly playing Blind Man’s Bluff with fate, driven by greed. Fighting for some cash prize that will go to the only survivor.

***

After graduation from the Italian Institute of Foreign Trade, where Gino went at his father’s insistence, every year the feeling that the restaurant business and service sector were not his things was becoming more and more intense. And in general, the word “business’ was associated exclusively with the word duty. He allowed the thought, if not entirely of abandoning the restaurant business, then at least of combining the management of a company with his calling to be a writer. After all, this was what he had dreamt of from a young age.

At the same time, the inherited business had literally grown into an essential part of his nature over many years. And therefore it did not cause feelings of hatred or rejection. He was just determined to do what his soul was really drawn to.

Thanks to his mother, who was a philologist, in his youth Gino immersed in reading different types of literature, from the classics to the avant-garde, and either was thrilled to bits or disappointed amid internal conflicts from what he read. In the process of exploring new horizons in books, he was inspired by the idea of becoming a writer himself. The craving for something big and monumental in his inner world played the role of a blinding dream. In the rosy ideas about poetry and philosophy, which he believed imbued exclusively with the spirit of freedom, in his opinion, there was no place for academicism. So he sometimes wrote down only fragments of unfinished thoughts in his notebook, thinking that the most important thing was the essence, and he could return to the details and logical conclusion later.

Years passed and then, as a mature thirty-six-year-old man, Gino looked at life and at the contents of books, in a different way. The clear boundaries between what someone else wrote and his own perception of what he had read did not leave him indifferent. Still studying philosophy, religious, scientific and fiction literature, he tried to transfer the acquired knowledge into his reality.

***

Gino was sitting and deliberating: “How many wise insights can be drawn from the right books. But how much of puffed up twaddle and water are poured onto the pages by the authors who write in order to fill up their bank account. I’m not allowed to start writing at their level and at the same time lie for the sake of material gain. No, everything that I’ve learned from books and my life, I’ll write down on paper, not trying to adjust to the trends of a volatile society. When I become a writer, I will defend my soul impulses of albeit a subjective, but unique and comprehending perspective. Although, in pursuit of the same originality, one must remember the true goals, which are by no means new and often generally accepted.

Yes, sometimes it’s so difficult to transfer the fruits of knowledge from books into your everyday life without turning into a boring skeptic. And vice versa, not become that one by trying on the role of a philosopher when you begin to share your thoughts with your reader.

I’m sure my life experience is unique. But the question is: how dare I tell about myself in my first work? Namely, about a hypnotist who seduces women. I’ll probably have to add that the character is my unspoken prototype and is fictional. Let it remain a mystery to the reader whether such a person really existed, or whether he was just the author’s fantasy. It’s decided! I have to start writing my own novel.”

Gino took a few puffs of his cigar and, putting it back in the ashtray, stood up and walked to another painting called “Multi-faced anticipation,” that was hanging on the left of the fireplace. It was also painted by the artist Alexander Kulikov. It depicted the faces of people with ugly disproportions in cubist style that symbolized not-so-great society of the world around us. But at the very top of the picture there was a face, more harmonious than all the others, hands, joined in a circle, and a baby in the middle of these gentle hands. The one who was on top of the baby symbolized a caring father who protected his child from the outside world.

“Dad, I remember you told me,” Gino whispered as he approached the painting, “that when you bought this painting from your friend Alexander, you thought it was your mission to take care of me and give me a better life, shielding me from trouble and suffering. But now, instead, I’d give up a lot of material things to have a family and children in my life, whom I would protect, just as you once protected me. Dad, how long do I have to wait? You see how lonely I am. Why are women so cold towards me?! I don’t understand. I can’t do this anymore!”

Looking at the picture, Gino squinted thoughtfully and exhaled tensely. He turned towards the chairs, took a step, turned around again, and looked at it. Then he went up to the table, took an empty glass, and headed towards the bar.

Having filled it almost to the brim, he drank it all, and, suddenly getting angry, smashed it onto the floor with all his might.

“Why me?!” he shouted furiously. “What did I do wrong?! Why am I lonely?! How many people get married and divorced? They give birth to children and leave them in the lurch! And all I want is to meet true love. Make a strong family and raise my children. What should I do to stop women disappearing from my life?! I want to raise my children!”

Tears sprang from his eyes.

“I just want to wake up not alone, but in the arms of my beloved,” he continued talking to himself, whispering and crying. “To hear the joyful screams of my kids running around this huge house. To sing them a lullaby, kiss, hug and play with them.”

“I can’t go on like this!” shouted Gino again. “What should I do?! Where’s the way out?!

His screams woke Alba. She came into the living room.

“Signor, did you call me?” she asked in a tone of utter indifference. “Do you need my help?”

Already drunk, he could not contain his anger.

“No! You need help yourself!” he screamed in rage. “You said some really mean things to me. And asked me not to fire you. That’s a lot of nerve, I must say! You know why you are lonely? Because you are like a cold steak for a bachelor’s breakfast. You, with your appearance of sacrifice, make me feel only one thing: a predator’s desire to squeeze a cry of pain out of you so that you show at least some emotion! But you’re not really that simple… Nooo, you’re cunning! But you’re not far-sighted.

How you piss me off with your indifference to everything around you! Get out of here, get out, I said! I don’t want you in my house tomorrow, you are fired!”

She silently turned around and left the living room.

The feeling of guilt for Alba was not long in coming. Gino sat down in a chair and, staring at the floor, got lost in his thoughts, disgusted with himself: “Why did I do that to her? Where am I going to? I am either a victim, or an executioner, or an indifferent bastard. I have to apologize. But no. Not now, not now… Tomorrow morning. I’ll apologize, write her a check and let her go for a week, let her unwind and rest.”

Chapter 8. Dialogue with Mario

After calming down a little, Gino called Mario.

“Hello.”

“Hello. Why so late? I was already asleep, did something happen?!”

“Mario, can you come over, I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Yes, sure! I’ll come over right now.”

Mario hung up. He kissed his sleeping wife and children, quietly got dressed and drove to Gino.

When they met, they exchanged friendly hugs and went from the hall to the living room.

Gino poured him some whiskey and, remembering that he was a big fan of cigars, offered him one. Mario lit it with pleasure, and they sat down in armchairs opposite the fireplace.

“Mario, I’m sorry for calling you so late,” said Gino in low spirits. “I don’t know what to do with myself, so much has been happening lately! I just need to get it off my chest.”

“By the way, how’s your wife, Annetta? How are the kids?”

“They are fine, sleeping now. Everything is stable as always.”

“I envy you!” said Gino. “Annetta and your daughters love you so much. Mario, you’re a lucky man. It must be so wonderful to be a father.”

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