Page 129 of Giovanna

“I’m so sorry, little darlin’,” I whisper, kissing her softly all over her face. “Sei il mio mondo,you are my world.”

I stand by her bed, grasp her hand, and whisper promises to her. Promises that I will make everything right and do anything, everything, to make her mine.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Giovanna

I join the depressing coalition of smokers gathered outside the hospital sucking on cigarettes and vapes in quiet desperation.

Perching on a low concrete wall, I rest my elbows on my knees and let my head hang. My vape is a pacifier for all my current anxieties.

“She’s here! Lena is her name! Thanks, brother. Yeah yeah, 7 pounds 4 ounces. Julia was a champ. Fuck man. Until you see it for yourself…gives you a whole new appreciation, ya know.” I almost smile at the excitement in the man’s voice.

How can he be having one of the best days of his life when the bloke he borrowed a lighter from probably just got a cancer diagnosis and Francesca was just shot?

An expensive pair of Italian loafers come to a stop in front of me and a huge hand reaches out for my vape. Sighing, I hand it over and Elio takes a seat next to me after dusting the wall for excess dirt.

“You know,” Elio says, sucking on the e-cigarette, “I don’t have a monopoly on being a shit cunt. You’ve been just as bad.”

“Can’t say I disagree, Eli,” I wince, but he’s right.

“It’s one thing to force me to get married, but then to go and root the girl? That’s twisted.”

“You don’t want her,” I half-heartedly protest.

“That wasn’t stopping you from forcing us to get married. My life isn’t mine anymore, G. Yeah I’ve been a dickhead, but I’m fuckin’ miserable. I just wanted to be a black-hearted lawyer with a killer wardrobe and a shit tonne of pussy. I’m living someone else’s life….I’m living your life.”

I listen. I let him get his frustrations off his chest.

“We’re not a normal family. Our lives were never going to be simple. You think I’m happy with how things have turned out?” My words sound hollow even to my own ears.

He turns and looks at me, forcing sustained eye contact. “What do you want, G? Forget what Dad says or what you think you’re supposed to say. What do you want?”

“Francesca,” I answer straight away, “and I want to lead this family. I’m the oldest and having a vagina has never held me back from anything else. I was born for it.”

He nods. “So take it. Take Francesca. Take the reins. Take all the expectations and bullshit that have been dumped on me.”

“It’s not that simple,” I begin, but Elio cuts across me.

“Who’s in charge, G? Who says you can’t be our don?” He presses.

Therein lies the problem. I’m a bit in charge, Elio is a bit in charge, and Dad is still a bit in charge.

He continues: “If me and you say you’re in charge, then you’re in charge. That frail fucker in there in the wheelchair chose to step down. It’s not up to him anymore.”

“What are you saying, Elio?”

“I’m saying, you’re in charge. No more unstable party boy to worry about. You’re respected, experienced, ruthless…and you get the girl. You marry Francesca. I’m much better suited to being yourconsigliere.”

I’m speechless. When he sat down I thought he was going to get up my arse about Francesca, not hand over everything that should be mine but isn’t.

“What’s the catch, bro?” I’m back sucking on my nicotine pacifier. ”What do you get out of this plan?”

He grins, his eyes roaming over an attractive young woman who has lit up a menthol a few metres away. “Freedom,” he laughs. “Let me run legal. I’ll work hard, but the big decisions are on you. No one looking to me to be a fuckin’ leader or paragon of questionable virtue. And I don’t have to get married.”

“You really wanna sacrifice the prestige of being the boss so you can keep chasing pussy?” I tease.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that,” he nudges me gently and smirks.

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