Page 18 of Twisted Obsession

‘No,’ she admitted. ‘How do you think he’ll react when he sees the dress I’ve chosen?’

‘I think he’ll look at you with love, the same way he always does.’

‘I hope so…’

‘I know so.’ I tried hard to quell my fears.

‘You haven’t asked me…’

‘Asked you?’ I questioned.

‘Why this colour dress?’

I stepped closer to her so I could speak in a softer tone and still be heard. ‘I haven’t asked, because I already know. You feel that this is your last opportunity to make a decision in your own right.’

She shrugged and nodded. We had always been close and once again I hoped I’d proven just how close.

‘I know you’re putting your own dreams on hold and marrying for the sake of our family. But I swear to you, Sera, that in a few years’ time, I’ll get you out of this loveless marriage and that one day you’ll get to live your own life.’

‘Promise me there’s to be no more blood, Dante. We’ve already lost Zeno and it’s enough.’

‘I can’t promise anything.’

‘Then I don’t want your pledge. As it stands, I’m committing to this marriage to give us a fresh start in this fucked up community we were born into. I do not want Mia to have to do the same thing and I will not lose another brother… Do you understand me?’

Of course, I understood. But I also had to reconcile with myself that I couldn’t and wouldn’t stand by while the De Luca family fucked with mine anymore.

‘Giovanna De Luca… you are mine.’

Chapter Nine

Giovanna

Janine ushered me into a huge room that I instantly felt was far too hot. Instinctively, I looked around and found my grandfather sitting up in an enormous bed at the other end of the room. It was a huge relief to find him looking better than I imagined he would. Once he’d unburdened himself at today’s party and named my eldest brother his successor, I’d watched as he’d sunk back into his chair. His pallor had greyed before my eyes, and I saw just how old he had begun to look. But now, at home in his bed, he looked comfortable, rested even, with a little pink in his cheeks and it gave me hope.

I offered him a smile and started to make my way over to him, nodding my thanks at Janine as I went.

He couldn’t be dying.

It had to be wrong.

It was with that hope rising inside me, I took note of the lady’s blusher on his bedside table, and I saw the whole picture in front of me for the façade it was. The pink in his cheeks was false. I could only imagine that his comfort was coming from a fresh injection of pain relief, and it was all for his audience with me, the granddaughter who had stolen his heart. Immediately,I stopped crossing the distance between us as the truth hit me with such strength of force it nearly felled me to my knees.

He was leaving me.

What would I do without him?

Upon realising their death was imminent, most heads of families would seek out the nearest priest for atonement of their sins. But my grandfather was a proud man. I knew he had done many things over the years that would go against our religious upbringing, but unselfishly he wanted the air that left his body to be spent in preparing his family for the future, not on trying to save his condemned soul.

As that last thought formed inside my head, a loud sob left me. Like the little girl who had always flown to his side in her times of need, although the tables had turned on us both, I ran to the side of his bed and bent over to him. Happily, I received the same tight embrace he had always given me and lost for a few minutes in our connection, I tried to convince myself that I had it all wrong.

He had always been strong and formidable. He had been to war many times. He had survived the loss of his wife and my papa’s brothers.

But as his hold on me began to relax, I had to accept that his life, like all things, had an expiry date. As he released me altogether and fell back to his many pillows, nurses wearing starched, white uniforms seemed to appear from everywhere. I stood by impotently as they made him comfortable yet again and offered him some liquid to sip at, until the cough that had been brought on by our hug was once again relieved.

‘Giovanna.’ He spoke my name with the same tone he had always used, but the strength behind it was weak.

‘Nonno,’ I replied.

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