Sofia's Secret Mafia Brothers

41. Yet Mad I Am Not

On the next day, Sofia didn't go to school. Instead, Francesco took her to the doctor. Well, not just any doctor, a psychiatrist.

Sofia was now sitting in the waiting room next to her brother, she was not in a mood to talk, so every Francesco attempt to communicate with her ended with her not saying anything or making some monosyllabic statement. At some point, he gave up and let her stay in her own headspace.

"Please come in," Felice said, his voice was deep, warm, and inviting. His kind expression created an illusion that he's a person that can be trusted.

"Thank you for making time for us, Felice" Francesco said politely, but there was a warmth in his voice indicating that they knew each other.

"Of course, I will always make time for friends" Felice responded and smiled gently.

Sofia of course did some research on him on the internet.

Doctor Felice Santini was known as one of the best specialists in his field. He didn't take any new clients, allegedly. Google was swarmed with articles about his achievements.  He wrote a book, was giving lectures despite his young age while still practicing and also supervising his colleagues.

Sofia knew she was only here because her brothers were one of the most dangerous mafiosi in the city, no one would dare to say no to them.

"Felice Santini" the doctor introduced himself.

"Sofia Sanzaro" Sofia said, standing rigidly in front of him. "You share the last name with Italy's prime minister" she noted.

"Well, he is my father after all" he said casually. If Sofia was drinking water, she would spit it out.

Sofia looked at Felice with widened eyes, "W-what? Really?!"

He smiled and responded. "Father makes sure to keep family away from journalists, so I am not surprised that you don't know," then he changed the topic before Sofia could fully process that "I've heard you moved here from America, so my first question is whether you prefer us to communicate in English or Italian," Felice asked.

"English, if that's an option" Sofia responded right away.

"It certainly is. So, what brings you here today?" He asked with fluent British accent. Sofia now recalled that he graduated from Oxford.

"My brothers," she said curtly, not in a mood to be cooperative, on the other hand, Felice seemed to be completely okay with her response.

"Why would they want you to visit me?" He continued his questioning.

"Who knows... maybe because they think I'm insane?" Sofia said, but she wasn't focusing on him or this conversation, she was curiously checking out his office.

The interior design was clean, functional, and sophisticated. Prints with nature pared well with white walls of the interior. The window was big enough to let in a lot of natural light. Sofia was sitting on the gray couch, the Felice was sitting in front of her on the armchair.

He had curly brown hair and steely gray eyes. He was wearing a beige suit with a white shirt underneath and he reminded her of someone, she just couldn't pin down where the resemblance is coming from.

"Insane? How so?" He asked without arguing about terminology.

Sofia took a breath to answer, and then she stopped herself from speaking. Before she talks to him for real she needed to know "Are you going to tell to my brothers anything I said to you here?" She asked with mistrust and hostility in her voice.

"No, unless I suspect you're at risk of committing suicide" he responded calmly.

"Oh," she said awkwardly.

"Are you?" He asked.

"Am I what?" She asked anxiously.

"Have you thought about taking your own life?" He clarified, his gray eyes watching her intensely.

"No"

"Would you tell me if you did?" He continued his questioning.

"No" this time she was honest.

"Okay, we will work with that," He said and wrote something down in his notepad.

"Work with what? There's nothing to work with" she said defensively sitting with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Maybe there isn't, but one thing is clear: you don't want to work with me," He pointed out.

"No" she responded curtly. There was no point to disagree with him. He saw the way she responded. The way her posture was closed and how she glanced at the clock on the wall a bit too often.

"Why is that?" He asked curiously.

She looked away without saying anything.

"Let me ask you about something else, why did you stop attending therapy?" He asked, her brows furrowed instantly when she realized that he didn't even ask her if she was attending one. How no much does he know about her already?

"How do you know I was attending therapy?" She asked.

"Alessandro took the liberty of checking your medical records now that he's your legal guardian. He informed me about it" Felice explained.

"You're with my brother on a first-name basis?" Sofia asked, trying to pinpoint how much does Felice know.

"I have that honor, yes. Does that worry you?"

She nodded, "What if you're going to talk with them about my problems? I know you said you will only speak if you think that I am a danger to myself, but how can I know that you will just tell them whatever I tell you?" she said shifting on the chair nervously.

"And how do you think Alessandro would react if I started gossiping with him about our sessions? He would fire me right away because that's not what a good therapist does"

He was right. Sofia realized and she went quiet again.

"Why did you resign from attending therapy?" Felice broke the silence.

"Money. Mother's insurance could cover only six sessions" Sofia said, trying to make her voice sound indifferent.

"That must've been difficult for you" he sympathized.

Sofia shrugged her shoulders and her lips pursed into a thin line. She didn't want any pity.

"Now that money doesn't seem to be a problem and yet you don't look like a willing participant, why is that?" Curiosity glimmered in his eyes.

"I'm tired of this interview," she said, she felt like her frustration reaches its peak. After Sofia was forced into resigning from therapy, she developed a coping mechanism. Denial. She was repressing everything, including her feelings. That's why opening up again was so hard. It made her feel like she's going to fall apart.

"Then we will finish for today"