Page 100 of Giovanna

“Dad, are you okay?” it’s Elio again. I want to tell him I’m sorry. He wasn’t made for this life and I have pushed him and pushed him. All he hears is how incapable he is and that no one respects him, but he was always a good kid. Funny, smart, and caring.

I look down and watch my hand trying to grasp a forearm, but I’m fumbling. Another hand comes down on top of it. Matteo is holding my hand. He rubs it before pressing kisses to my knuckles.

“I think he’s having a stroke,” I want to smile at how calm my daughter sounds. She is barking instructions, but no one is in any doubt that she is in control. I have the weirdest thought that I know she won’t let me die here. She just won’t. She’ll drive the fucking ambulance herself and have the doctors standing at attention.

‘It would be a real fucking inconvenience to die now,’ I think as I drift away from the noise of the Famiglia, the faces of my children, and the uncertainty of our future.

Chapter Forty-Six

Francesca

“Yeah, yeah. Of course, it’s fuckin’ fantastic. Too easy, but where do you think they’ll look first, mate?” I hear Stefan hissing excitedly.

I pause on the set of cold industrial-chic stairs linking the first floor to the second. Hearing his voice drifting through the ajar door to his office, stops me in my tracks and has me straining to eavesdrop on my way down to breakfast.

Stefan continues, “The minute Giovanna realises she is missing every Marino soldier in the state will be beating down my door!”

Who is he talking to?

The silence that follows his statements tells me he must be speaking on the phone. I wait.

“Yeah, I know that,” he suddenly snaps. “Right well, we have to move her. She can’t stay here.”

There is no way they aren’t talking about me. I mean, how many people that Giovanna gives a shit about (well, kinda) could he have hiding in his house?

I don’t like the sound of Stefan making plans to “move” me. Not one bit. Running away from getting married was about being free and making decisions for myself. I will not be ordered around and kept captive by another family member.

“I don’t care. Do with her what you want. Just make sure she isn’t around to be married off. Righto, see you soon.” He hangs up and I sit with my hands clasped over my mouth. Taking slow breaths I try to quiet my panic and creep slowly back up the stairs to the spare bedroom.

If he doesn’t care what happens to me, why does he care if I get married? It doesn’t make sense. All I know is that I am not safe here. In my gut, the churn tells me I have made a very bad mistake in turning to my brother.

A few minutes later, I am packing my bag with urgency, having decided that I need to leave immediately. Sounds of my nephews playing come from the floor above and I feel a twinge of sadness that I’ll be leaving them without saying goodbye, but I can’t risk a detour just to give them a hug.

“Are you going somewhere?” Stefan’s voice says from the doorway and I whip my head around to see him force a cold gaze into an uncomfortable smile.

Plastering what I hope is a more casual and less uncomfortable smile on my face, I shrug and say, “I’ve decided to go home and talk it through with everyone.”

“They won’t listen to you,” he snaps and I freeze at the sharp impatience in his voice.

“Worth a try though, right?” I coach myself to keep smiling and acting like I’m not becoming more and more afraid.

He frowns. “I can’t let you go, I'm afraid. I can’t take that risk with your safety.”

“Oh, they would never hurt me! I’ll be fine!” I swing my bag over my shoulder and take a few steps toward the door.

Placing a hand on each side of the door frame, Stefan fills the space, blocking my path. He may be lean, but he is taller than me and uses his size advantage to show me that I won’t be getting around him.

“Honestly, Stefan, I know you’re being an overprotective big brother,” I don’t know this at all. I am doubting very much if his attempts to forge a relationship with me have anything to do with family or love at all. “But you don’t need to worry. Thank you so much for letting me stay last night.”

He doesn’t budge. “Stefan?”

“You aren’t leaving!” he roars, stepping back and slamming the door with so much force I swear the walls shake.

I hurry over and yank on the door handle, but he has locked it. I didn’t even notice there was a lock until now.Fuck!My palm stings as I slap it against the door in frustration.

“You just need some time to calm down. We’ll talk when you’re being reasonable,” he shouts through the door before stomping off down the hall.

The single, albeit large, window in the room is heavy and hard to push open. I could fit my body through it but there is nothing for me to hang onto or stand on the other side. The drop is two storeys and I’ll be certain to break my legs if I try to land it.

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