MAURIZIO FERRARI
I am sitting on the stool in front of the piano, on my second bottle of whiskey, and I can feel my eyes getting very heavy. I am drunk, but I prefer myself this way right now. I f*****g hate my life.
“That’s enough, Maurizio,” I heard my wife’s voice warning me from behind. I did not dare raise my head and turn to her; I am ashamed for what I have done to her.
“Go back to sleep, Anastasia,” I said to her, drinking from the bottle but she quickly came and snatched the bottle from my hand.
“Did you not hear me, Maurizio, or maybe I stuttered. I said you had enough!” She raised her voice at me, causing me to laugh implausibly.
“Look at you, Lioness. I am impressed by your stunt, that is very brave of you, but I will not be held responsible for my next move if you do not
