We are in the library, the fire low, the rain steady against the windows. He’s seated opposite me, idly flipping through a book he hasn’t turned a page of in ten minutes. I sign slowly, making sure he catches it. Tomasso likes Camilla.
He raises his brows, then smirks. “Ah. Yes. He’s not as subtle as he thinks. Everyone can see it. She’s beautiful, in that sharp way that scares men into behaving.”
I tilt my head. She hasn’t noticed.
“She will,” he says, closing the book and leaning forward. “Women like her always do.”
I study him for a moment. He is relaxed here, away from whatever shadows follow him outside these walls. I sign again. You’ve been around more lately.
“Maybe I like the company,” he says, his eyes holding mine longer than they should.
So do I, I sign, smiling.
That makes him pause. His smile fades into something softer, more guarded. “You’ve always had this… presence, Liliana. Even before Giovanni. Before all of this. I noticed. That’s why…” He stops, as if weighing the words, then finishes, “That’s why I liked you. From the start.”
I blink, caught off guard. The confession hangs between us, quiet but unshakable.
He doesn’t look away. “Not in a way that would’ve mattered. You're my cousin after all, distant one at that…” he laughs nervously.
I sign carefully. It's a slow dawning of realization. Why hadn't I noticed? It was always there. You’ve always liked me.
His mouth curves, not in mockery, but in quiet acknowledgement. “I have. And I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But I’m not here to cause trouble for you.”
The air feels heavier, not uncomfortable, but charged in a way I didn’t expect. I don’t know what to say, so I sign again. You never showed it.
“I couldn’t. It wasn’t mine to show.” He straightens, his expression shifting back to the familiar ease he wears like armor. “Doesn’t change anything. Just means I’ve always wanted to see you treated the way you deserve. And you are. Mostly.”
Mostly?
His mouth curves in a faint smirk. “Giovanni’s not perfect. Neither are you. But you’re good for each other. Besides, I have a thing for Maria, you know?”
I hold his gaze for a moment, then nod.
Giovanni appears in the doorway then, his presence filling the room without effort. His eyes move from me to Dario, reading the air in seconds. “Am I interrupting?”
Dario smiles easily. “Not at all. We were just talking.”
Giovanni’s hand finds my shoulder as he comes to stand behind me. The weight of it is grounding. Possessive. I glance up at him, but he is looking at Dario.
Dario rises, smoothing his shirt. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
When he’s gone, Giovanni leans down, his mouth brushing my ear. “Everything alright?”
I nod, though my thoughts are still tangled. He lingers for a moment, as if deciding whether to press, but then he kisses the top of my head and moves to pour himself a drink.
Later, when we’re alone in the bedroom, he is softer than usual. His hands find me easily, his touch warm and steady, his voice low as he asks how I’m feeling. I tell him the truth with my hands. Tired and a little sick.
He eases me down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over us. His palm rests on my stomach, the faintest smile touching his mouth. “You’re carrying our future,” he murmurs.
I watch him, wondering if he knows how much I want to tell him I love him. The words press against my chest, but they stay there, locked away.
Instead, I turn onto my side, facing him. He studies me for a moment, then brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Rest, cara. I’m here.”
I close my eyes, letting the sound of his voice settle me. For now, that is enough.
25
GIOVANNI
