Forbidden Desires of Brazil

I should have known it was too good to be true.

The day I wed Michelangelo I knew it would end in tears. I had a premonition that morning; the sky was black and the birds wouldn't sing. It was as though the world itself wept, for me.

But what choice did I have? My family needed an heir and Michelangelo was rich and handsome and worldly. Though he was never very gentle with me, and preferred his mistresses over me; I knew I couldn't do better than him... or so I thought.

"Darling, you look beautiful." He started, forcing a smile before lighting his cigarillo. "This country has done wonders for you."

I looked out my window at the rolling hills of São Paulo, Brazil. The city was bustling with life outside the carriage window but inside, everything was grey: my dress, my husband, even our two children.

"It has been years since we've returned home." I said to him, looking down at my hands clasped in my lap. "I fear your father will not be pleased to see us after all this time."

"Father is always pleased to see me." He replied a little too quickly to be convincing. "He simply finds it hard to express himself these days."

I glanced out the window again, taking in the landscape of our homeland as we drove further from Rio de Janeiro and closer to São Paulo. The air smelled cleaner here; there were no smells of sulphur in the air like back home. It was refreshing being here after all these years away; it almost felt like magic.

When we arrived at our townhouse on Rua Augusta Michelangelo helped me down from the carriage before helping our two children out of their seats as well: nine year old Louisa with her blonde hair and blue eyes; five year old Renata with her jet black hair and dark brown eyes. She looked just like her mother's side of the family while Louisa took more after her father's French heritage (as if she didn't already look enough like him.) Renata took after her father in other ways too... she was impulsive and passionate, just like him. Louisa was more reserved, just like me. Both girls were darling but Renata... she was special somehow.

We entered the house through the front door and Michelangelo went upstairs to change out of his travelling clothes while I put the children down for a nap in their shared bedroom before organising tea for us all in the sitting room downstairs where he would meet his father later this afternoon after his nap.

Just then Renata came running into the room carrying something small in her hand; she pressed it into my palm and closed my fingers around it before disappearing through the doorway again, leaving me alone in the sitting room holding some sort of stone-like object no larger than a coin. "What is this?" I asked myself aloud. It was warm against my skin but when I opened my hand again it wasn't there; instead there was an envelope with my name on it which read: 'For Sophia'. Inside there was another envelope with a card inside that read: 'For Sophia' again followed by a date three weeks hence on which I would meet someone named Marcio who made his living as an apothecary near Rua dos Ourives number 579 on Tuesday evening at seven o clock sharp if I wished to discover something about myself that could change everything...?