Page 15 of The Don's Eternal Vows

"What if..." I start, my voice barely audible over the rushing river. "What if there's nothing left for me here?"

The mystic woman's lips curve into a knowing smile. "There is always something. You just need the eyes to see it.”

The lake's surface ripples with my every breath, and the moonlight dances on the water, painting us in silver shadows. Her fingers trace an enigmatic pattern in the air, and her eyes never leave mine.

“Even death is not the end you think it is,” she sings through the night. “Come, don’t lose hope now. This will get you no closer to what you desire.” As if sensing my inner struggle, the woman extends her hand towards me, beckoning me closer with a finger. I feel as though I'm in a trance-like state, drawn to her like a fish seeking water.

She turns and walks into the forest until we reach a clearing bathed in silvery light, the moon casting its glow upon a small, humble hut nestled among the trees.

She pauses at the entrance, turning to face me. Her eyes hold a depth of emotions I can't begin to decipher, a mixture of sorrow and hope that tugs at something within me.

“This place could hold answers you seek,” she murmurs, her voice soft. “But first, I need answers. What do you see?” she inquires. “What do you truly want?”

Her eyes, speckled in white - impossible, I think - claw into the depths of my soul and pull out the rawest emotions I’ve been hiding from even myself.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” her voice echoes in my ears.

I clench my fists, feeling the tension within my body. I want Genoveva back - that much is clear. But it’s impossible, isn’t it?

As if sensing my inner struggle, the woman extends her hand towards me, motioning me closer with a finger. “I see,” she says, letting me pass by her into the cottage.

I hear the door close behind me, and I turn, but she’s not there. I gasp when I look ahead and see her standing there right in frontof me, a crystal ball in place. She motions with her eyes at me, telling me to place my hands on it.

The mist swirls and dances in front of my eyes, and I see Genoveva. She and I dance under the moonlight, and in my soul, I see my future.

“But…how?” I ask, my voice gravel. I feel my cheeks wet, wanting this dream to be true with every fiber in my being.

The gypsy woman's smile widens, her eyes glinting with light. "The path will not be easy," she warns, her voice taking on a grave tone. "It will require sacrifice and a strength of will that few possess. But if your love is true, if your bond with Genoveva is unbreakable, then there is hope."

I nod, my breath coming in short, shaky gasps. I'm no stranger to sacrifice, to the kind of pain that can break a man. But for Genoveva, I would endure anything. "I'm ready," I say, my voice steadier now. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

Chapter 6

Eleanora

I watch Gianni, his piercing eyes fixed on the crystal ball we hold between us. The flickering candlelight casts dramatic shadows across his chiseled features, accentuating the tension in his jaw as he stares into the crystal ball before him.

His dark eyes reflect the swirling mist within where memories of Genoveva dance within the sphere.

My heart quickens, sensing an opportunity.

"What do you see?" I whisper, my voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

He doesn't respond immediately, lost in the visions only he can perceive. I sense the rapid beating of his heart, the shallow breaths that betray his inner turmoil.

“Tell me,” I try to keep the urgency out of my voice.

Gianni's jaw tightens. "Her smile... her laugh. God, I can almost touch her."

I lean forward, drawn by the raw pain in his words. Gianni's eyes never leave the crystal ball as he speaks. "Her laugh, like silver bells. The way she'd tilt her head when she was thinking. Her hands..." He trails off, swallowing hard.

I feel each memory as if it were my own, the weight of his loss pressing down on my chest. The shadows seem to grow darker, closing in around us.

"She's slipping away," he growls, frustration evident in every line of his body. His hands clench at his sides, knuckles white with strain.

I circle the table, my movements fluid and silent. "Focus, Gianni. Hold onto her."

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