Page 66 of Broken Vows

“Why on earth?” She slides a finger along the edge of the canvas.

“You need to find calm in the chaos, Gigi.” This situation is either going to implode quickly, or it’s going to drag on for months. Only time will tell, but with this forgery scandal, Franco showed his hand. He isn’t shy about pulling out all the stops to get this woman and her money. “It’s the only way to stay sane.”

34

GIGI

It’s late afternoon, and somehow, I’ve ended up at Tasha and Matteo’s apartment. Stephano insisted I come see Carla. I can’t explain to him how I need a break from my sister. When I’m with her, I have to keep up the façade thateverything is okay. I must be strong for both of us as Carla, typical for her age, believes someone else is going to sort out the mess while she just cares for herself. By magic, everything is going to come right.

After Franco’s attack on my business, things won’t go back to what they were. If I were in England, or anywhere in Europe, I would have fought these allegations in the open. I would’ve scrambled to get lawyers in place and fight him through the legal system, but when it comes to the Mafia and staying in hiding, common law doesn’t govern.

“What did you do today?” Carla asks.

We’re sitting on her bed, where she was watching a movie on her laptop before I arrived.

The list is long, so I keep it short. She doesn’t need to know. “I painted.”

“Painted?” She leans forward and hugs her legs to her chest. “What did you paint?”

“A small canvas as a warmup. Toying with colors and so on.”

To think Stephano got up this morning, ordered a whole art store of supplies for me, helped some staff with their personal finances, then went to the gym for almost three hours, only to come back and be the perfect husbandby surprising me with his thoughtful gift. And this after I accused him ofentertainingprostitutes.

And after the intimacy last night… I feel like a real fishwife, living up to my promise to be the most horrible wife ever. I’m swimming against the tide. I don’t want to be that anymore, not with him giving me space to find calm in the chaos, talking to me, and showing me who he is.

“Sounds like fun,” Carla says as she rocks herself.

“And you?”

“Nothing much, mostly looking into the course I’ll be taking and so on.”

“That’s good.” I can keep pretending, but there’s no guarantee Carla will be going to university. I hope this situation can come to a head before her classes start. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Better than last week.”

She looks fine. I don’t know what stomach bug she caught, because I’ve been fine. She looks smaller here in this room, and I don’t know if it’s the weight loss from last week or the trauma in general that gives her this fragile air.

“Maybe you should still see a doctor? Just for a check-up. You’ve been through a lot.”

“The last thing I want to do, Gigi, is to see a doctor. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It’s been intense.”

I lift my hands up and capitulate. “Okay.”

There’s no point in pressing her.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” The men are in Matteo’s office, and who knows what they’re discussing.

Stephano and I haven’t made dinner plans. I bet Matteo wants his wife all to himself. Imagine being newlywed with house guests staying indefinitely. If there were space at Stephano’s apartment, I would have insisted Carla come live with us. His place is too open concept, though, an exclusive bachelor’s pad to the last brick, and Carla needs her space, which she has here. I’d love for her to get her own studio or something, but what with my cashflow cut off and the uncertainty and safety concerns, there’s no way I could even suggest we look at places.

There’s an awkward silence between us, and I have no clue how to crack it. It’s been like this with her for months now. During our escape here, things were better, because we were each other’s lifelines, but now, it’s as if we’re back in our own corners, cuddling our secrets.

“How was last night?” she asks, a blush staining her cheeks, and I exhale softly.

“It was fine.” I don’t want to discuss my fake marriage. “Is there an update on Papa?”

If there were, Stephano would have told me. I want to steer the conversation away from me, but Carla’s bottom lip trembles, and she bursts into tears.

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