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As I drift off to sleep, nestled in Giovanni's arms, I wonder if his silence is because he'd have to admit something he doesn't want to admit. My feelings for him are as complex as the man himself – this dangerous, caring enigma. But still, I can't be sure if I trust him or not yet.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
The sunlight creeps through the curtains, and I try to put what happened between me and Giovanni last night out of my mind. In some ways, I don't even want to think about it. He was kind and gentle afterwards. He ended up getting into bed with me, but he didn't stay the night. I'm not sure that I expected him to, but I didn't realize that I would be bothered by the fact that he didn't.
"Damn you, Giovanni," I whisper to myself as I stare at the empty space beside me in the large bed. "Why do you have to make things so complicated?"
I reach for the remote, hoping the television will help clear my head. The news reports are all about the growing violence in Miami and my father's trial. My stomach twists with anxiety. I can't take it anymore, so I switch off the TV and grab my phone, desperate for a connection to my family.
Hola mama. How are you holding up?
Hi mija, we're doing our best. Safe for now, and that's what's important.
Can you guys go out? How's Sofia doing?
Staying inside mostly, but don't worry about us. Your sister misses her friends and school, but she's holding up. We love you. Be strong.
Tears fill my eyes as I read her message. I know they're trying to protect me by hiding their struggles, but it only makes me feel more helpless and isolated.
Love you too.
I wipe away the tears streaming down my cheeks.
The door to my room opens gently, and Evelyn and Isabella walk in. Their faces immediately crease with concern as they take in my tear-streaked face. I jump up from my bed and rush to the door, peeking into the hallway to make sure Giovanni isn't lurking nearby. They exchange puzzled glances as I scrutinize every corner of the room, searching for any hidden listening devices.
"Hey, Lulu," Evelyn says softly, her eyes full of empathy. "What's going on? Why are you so jumpy?"
I hesitate, biting my lip. I can't tell them about the GPS implant in my shoulder; I don't know how they'd react, or if it could somehow be used against me. Instead, I offer a vague explanation. "It's just... I found out something about Giovanni that's made me really wary of him."
"Care to share?" Isabella asks, sensing my reluctance.
"Can we sit?" I suggest, motioning towards the cozy armchairs near the window.
Isabella clears her throat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Listen, Lulu, when I first started working for Primo, he was distant and even downright nasty. He didn't trust me to handle his murder trial. But over time, he showed his true colors –" She pauses to smile at the memory. "The boys may seem gruff on the outside, except for Teddy, of course, but underneath, they're caring and good guys."
I nod, trying to process her words, but my heart refuses to accept the possibility that Giovanni might be different. "I understand what you're saying, Isabella, but what Giovanni did... I don't think it can ever be forgiven."
Her gaze softens, and she reaches for my hand. "I don't know what happened, and I won't push you to tell me, but whatever it is, I'm sure he has his reasons."
"Maybe," I murmur, though doubt coils in the pit of my stomach like a snake ready to strike.
As we sit there, the sun rising higher in the sky, I can't help but feel the weight of my family's situation pressing down on me. Their safety rests on my shoulders, and I won't let Giovanni keep me helpless any longer. No matter how Isabella tries to defend him, I can't trust him – not when so much is at stake.
I make small talk with the sisters for another few minutes. Sensing my unease, Evelyn guides the conversation back to why they're here.
"Okay," Evelyn says, her voice gentle but firm as she approaches my side. "Let's see how you're doing." She sets her medical bag down on the table and pulls out a stethoscope, draping it around her neck. Her eyes meet mine, full of concern. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I say, my voice barely a whisper. It feels strange to lie to her like this, but the truth is too tangled for words right now.
Evelyn nods, though I can see the doubt in her eyes. She presses the cold metal disk of the stethoscope against my chest, listening to my heart. "The medicine has probably worn off by now," she says softly. "If you need someone to talk to about what's happened, just let us know. These things can linger in your mind and become really unhealthy."
"Thank you," I manage, forcing a smile. My heart flutters under her touch, and I wonder if she can hear the fear and uncertainty it holds.
"Rest up," Isabella adds, rubbing my arm reassuringly. "When you feel better, we should plan another lunch."
"Sounds good." I nod, appreciating their support despite the storm brewing inside me.
With another round of goodbyes, they leave the room, closing the door behind them. Alone once more, I stare at the ceiling, unable to shake the memory of Giovanni's touch and Isabella's words. Maybe Primo was like that in the beginning – distant, untrusting – but does Giovanni have the same capacity for change? I'm not so sure.
