Your father, Carlo, knew a man in the Outer Banks, SC, America. You and your family were in Florence, Italy. Your home land. The man was none other than Ward Cameron. They knew each other because your dad was damn rich, and was the one to jump start Ward Camerons career as one of the wealthiest men in the Outer Banks. You had only been to the states twice in your life - Once for your brother and his choice to marry an American woman, and then a second time for his funeral - So, you didn’t know much English or the slang. Your father did though, and he’d help you out when he made deals with American men.

Tonight, you were in your fathers large home for a dinner with none other than Ward Cameron, and his son, Rafe Cameron. Your dads house was huge with archways instead of doors, stone interiors and floors, several stories, intricate designs, and a lot of your artwork adorned the walls, as well as the vines and plants in most corners.

In the Mediterranean style dining room, you were sat next to your father, across from Rafe who was sat next to Ward, and then Ward across from your father. The dish you had made for the occasion, Lasagne alla Bolognese, was set in its intricate dish in the center of the table, as well as a couple of sides. Majority of the time as you all ate, the English words were mainly lost on you. Well, until your father decided to include you in the conversation.

“Ah, that is a piece that my daughter made. A couple months ago actually.”

Your father spoke through his thick Italian accent, addressing Ward Cameron’s comment about the painting on the stone wall across the room. It was a landscape type of painting, the style similar to Eduard Manet’s paintings.

“Oh, wow. It’s nice. You’ve got a real knack for paintin’, Sophia. You might could get real far with that.”

Ward complimented, and Rafe nodded in agreement. You however raised an eyebrow confused.