Page 19 of The Don's Eternal Vows

"I understand," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "What else do I need to know?"

The gypsy reaches for my hand, her fingers surprisingly cold as they brush against mine. She places the coins and the map in my palm, and I feel a jolt, like electricity coursing through my veins. The weight of them is immense, far more than their size suggests.

"These are yours now," she murmurs, her eyes never leaving mine. "Guard them with your life, for they are your passage between worlds."

I close my fingers around the coins, feeling their power hum against my skin. "I will," I vow, my voice hoarse with emotion.

The gypsy leans in close, her breath ghosting across my ear. "Listen carefully," she whispers, her words carrying a weight that settles deep in my bones. "To find Genoveva, you must first lose yourself. You must die to be reborn."

My heart thunders in my chest. "Die?" I repeat, a chill creeping down my spine.

She nods, her gaze burning with an otherworldly intensity. "Death is but a doorway. Cross its threshold, and you'll find her waiting on the other side."

I swallow hard, my mind reeling. The coins pulse in my hand, a reminder of the impossible task before me. "How?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

The gypsy's eyes narrow. “The river. Drown in it. Jump off the highest high and fall to the lowest low.”

The weight of the gypsy's words settles over me like a shroud, but I can't falter now.

"Die to be reborn," I mutter, tasting the bitterness of the words on my tongue. My scarred hands tremble slightly as I clutch the treasures tighter in my hands.

I close my eyes, Genoveva's face swimming into focus. Her hazel eyes shift from warm to icy in an instant. The curve of her full lips, even as she delivered one of her razor-sharp quips.

I turn the coins over in my palm, mind racing with possibilities. "How much time do I have?"

"Time moves differently between worlds," she replies cryptically. "But do not delay. The longer a soul remains untethered, the harder it becomes to reclaim."

Urgency propels me into action. I slip the coins and map into my breast pocket, feeling their weight against my heart.

As I move towards the door, the gypsy's voice stops me. "Remember, Gianni Montagna. In the realm of the dead, your earthly power means nothing. Only your wit and your heart will guide you back. That and the obols for the ferryman."

I nod grimly, my hand on the doorknob. The cool night air hits me as I step outside, carrying with it an insanity I can’t put into words.

But, for Genoveva, I'll brave death itself, and God will help anyone who stands in my way.

Chapter 8

Gianni

By now, even the animals have finished their midnight hunt. There’s not a being that stirs in the forest, save for the cunning owl.

I push through the dense foliage, my eyes taking in all of my surroundings. I’m walking to my death, yet I swear I’ve never been more alive.

I shake my head and scoff when I find myself questioning my sanity. I could have imagined the whole wretched thing, given my desperation to be united in death with Genoveva.

For the tenth time since I left that hut, I reach for my coat pocket. I feel the obols. It’s true. It’s all true unless I’ve manifested physical tokens in my insanity. The coins clink together with every movement. My breath is steady, but my mind races with thoughts of Genoveva.

I don’t know what’s true anymore, but the only thing I can take comfort in is that I am incomplete without her.

"I'm coming for you, my love," I whisper, the words barely audible over the rustling leaves.

The gypsy's message haunts me, her voice echoing in my head:You can find her, Gianni. But the journey won't be easy.

I grit my teeth, pushing aside a low-hanging branch. The forest seems endless, a maze of green and shadow. But I know what lies ahead.

"Easy was never our style, was it, Genoveva?" I mutter, a ghost of a smile tugging at my lips.

The trees begin to thin, and I can hear the roar of water in the distance. This is it; this is where it could all end. Or perhaps, begin. My palms feel cold, my entire body trembles, and my heart beats so damn hard that I wonder if I finally understand what a deer being hunted feels like.

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