Page 49 of The Don's Eternal Vows

"We're almost home," I murmur, stealing a glance at her. "I'll take you straight to our room, okay? No need to deal with anyone else."

Genoveva's eyes flicker to mine for a brief moment, a ghost of appreciation in their hazel depths. It's enough to ignite a spark of hope in my chest.

I pull up to the side entrance, killing the engine. "Wait here," I say, quickly circling the car to open her door.

As we step into the cool night air, I place my hand gently on the small of her back. The familiar touch seems to ground her, and she leans into me ever so slightly.

"This way," I whisper, guiding her through the shadowy corridors. My senses are on high alert, listening for any approaching footsteps. We pass by Lorenzo, one of the newer guards, and my heart pounds when he looks in our direction.

I give him a sharp look that silences any question forming on his lips. Perhaps, I think to myself, he doesn’t recognize her. After all, he came after her death.

"Almost there," I breathe, my lips close to Genoveva's ear. She nods, her steps becoming more hurried.

Finally, we reach the sanctuary of my room. I usher her inside, locking the door behind us. Only then do I allow myself to exhale.

"You're safe now," I tell her, my voice thick with emotion. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Genoveva turns to me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Gianni," she whispers, her voice cracking. But she never really finishes what she has to say to me.

She shakes her head and turns around. I watch as Genoveva's gaze drifts across the room, landing on her belongings. Her silver hairbrush still lies on the dresser, exactly where she left it. The book she was reading remains on the nightstand, its bookmark untouched.

"It's... all the same," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I nod, swallowing hard. "Nothing's been moved. I couldn't..."

She approaches her vanity, fingers trailing over the surface. "It's like I was always here while I was..." Her voice catches, and she doesn't finish the thought.

"Genoveva," I say softly, stepping closer. "You're home now. You're safe."

She turns to me, her hazel eyes swimming with an emotion I can't quite place. "Am I?" she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

I feel my smile falter, the hope in my chest dimming. Her silence, her distance - they speak volumes. I reach out, wanting to comfort her, but she flinches away.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, dropping my hand. "What do you need? What can I do?"

Genoveva shakes her head, turning back to stare at her reflection in the mirror. "I don't know, Gianni. I don't know anything anymore."

The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air between us. I watch her, desperately searching for a sign - any sign - that the woman I love is still in there. But her expression remains distant, locked away in a place I can't reach.

"I'm here," I say finally, my voice rough with emotion. "Whatever you're going through, whatever happened... I'm here."

She nods but doesn't turn around. And in that moment, I realize that bringing her home was only the first step of a much longer journey.

“How about you settle in,” I tell her, “while I go check on the staff?”

She nods. I leave the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Maybe right now, what she truly needs is some space.

An hour later, I return. The moon rises behind the skyline, painting the room in silver hues. I clear my throat, breaking the heavy silence that's settled between us.

"Genoveva, would you like to join me for dinner in the private dining room? No one will be there. I had the chef prepare your favorite – osso buco."

Her shoulders tense, a barely perceptible movement. "No, thank you," she says, her voice flat. "I'm not hungry."

I take a step closer, my hand hovering near her shoulder but not quite touching. "You need to eat, cara mia. To regain your strength."

She turns, her eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment. “I said I’m not hungry, Gianni.”

The firmness in her tone stings, but I nod, swallowing my disappointment. "Of course. Whatever you need."

---