Page 65 of Twisted Obsession

‘That we are,’ I agreed.

‘I knew a long time ago, Giordano, that you and I would walk life’s path together. However different we appear to be,’ he carried on. ‘As brutal enemies or as comrades in arms.’

‘You thoughtwewould stand side by side?’

‘Yes. Even when we first met, and again when I saw the angry teenager who hated me for marrying his sister. If you look closely, that’s exactly what’s happening now. Time has passed, and you have done your Don’s bidding.Sheis engaged to be married very soon.’ I gripped the pen I was holding tighter at his statement, knowing exactly whoshewas. Finally, I released the pen from my hand and threw it across my vast office. It hit the wall like a dart, marking the plaster, before clattering to the floor. ‘For the sake of our combined families, we will stand and fight together. We will fight to keep them safe, even if it means our own deaths.’

‘That,I don’t disagree with.’ I stopped myself from carrying on.

‘How long do you need to piece together this jigsaw?’

‘Give me this week.’

‘Agreed. But you will make no move against them until I give the order,’ he spoke, and in the background I heard his engine die as he arrived at his destination.

‘Give our family my congratulations and tell them I’ll be home soon.’

‘I’ll give them your congratulations.’

Even I had to laugh at the way our call ended.

I took a couple of long drags from the poison between my fingers and tried to clear the thoughts inside my head of Giovanna. The thoughts that any phone call back to Italy or London produced, let alone the ones that reminded me she was be married to someone else. But I couldn’t shake them, and nor could I fight the need in me that was building, so I conceded and called her again.

‘So soon, Dante?’ I shook my head as I reprimanded myself, but continued to press the relevant digits. After placing the mobile to my ear, I stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette and dropped it in the ashtray alongside the countless others.

Outside, one of the cruise ships was leaving and I listened as it began to play a fanfare, before my attention was once again taken by the ringtone sounding in my left ear. It was different to normal, which told me she was no longer in Italy.

Where the hell was she? And why the fuck did it rile me so much that I didn’t know?

I knew the answer. When I phoned her, I always visualised her walking over the sand at our beach, stopping every now and again to pick up the shells it always seemed to home. The wind would be in her hair, sending it flying around her. Her beauty would be evident as she laughed while brushing the errantstrands away from her face, and then I would see her hazel eyes sparkle as she answered the phone.

But this time she wasn’t there.

‘What the fuck?’ I whispered, just as the ring tone abruptly stopped and she answered.

‘Ciao.’ The air was stolen from my body as soon as I heard her breathless tone. ‘Hello. Please say something.’ Like I’d trained myself to do so long ago, I stilled from breathing so I could fully concentrate on the few seconds of contact I had with her. Closing my eyes, I prepared myself to end the call as normal, but then I heard the same fanfare the cruise ship was blaring out travel through the phone.

She can’t be.

Then I heard it again, mirroring what I was hearing from the nearby harbour.

She was here.

‘Hello,’ she tried again.

The realisation that she was very close, sent me onto high alert. Standing suddenly, I pushed the chair I’d been sitting on away from me so fast it crashed into the wall behind me, but I paid it no attention. Instead, I made my way to the open window and looked down to the ground below me as though I’d find her standing outside and looking back up at me if I looked hard enough.

‘Where are you?’ I spoke my first words to her in all the years we’d been apart, as I watched the people going about their business.

‘Dante?’ I heard the emotion trapped in her voice.

‘I asked you a question.’

‘I’m… well, I don’t know exactly where I am. But I’m in the old town, in Malta, on a walking tour.’

‘Why?’ My voice sounded harder than I wanted it to. But I refused to correct it. With the way my body felt just knowing shewas nearby and the hurt she’d left me with all those years before, the way I was speaking to her seemed to be the only form of defence I had.

‘I’m here to see you… please.’

---