Chapter 38
GIANNA
I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table for so long my back and legs ache. The garden outside is dark, so dark I feel like I’m looking into a black hole—the void of the rest of my life, blacker than anything I’ve ever seen.
Dante keeps talking to me. I ignored him to start with, but then he had one of his goons slap me across the face for doing that.
“Sicily is lovely this time of year,” Dante is saying, and I’m now convinced he is actually insane. “Ever been swimming on the beaches of Sicily? The water is divine.”
“You should go,” I say. “And I hope you drown.”
Maria’s grips my forearm under the table so hard I’m sure it’ll leave a welt. But I’m done playing nice with this guy. I wish she’d put that knife she’s hiding in her skirt in my hand instead of giving me warning hand squeezes.
“Someone needs another little attitude adjustment,” Dante says and motions for the hulking, tall guy who’d slapped me before to do it again. He’s coming, but I’m ignoring him completely, looking at Dante defiantly instead.
“What? You’re not even man enough to hit me yourself?” I ask.
Dante gives me a serene smile. “I don’t hit women.”
And the goon chuckles as he raises his hand to slap me. And freezes mid-move as a deafeningly loud gunshot echoes through the silent kitchen.
The man who was about to hit me falls to the ground at my feet, dead, his cruel little grin still etched to his face.
“I’m here,” Matteo says from the doorway to the garage, speaking as much to me as to Dante. I almost don’t believe my eyes or my ears, and if it weren’t for the sunshine of his eyes warming my face, my whole body, I’d think I was hallucinating.
“What took you so long?” I breathe and smile at him.
But what’s he doing here alone?
Dante still has four guys on his side, and they’re all pointing their guns at Matteo now.
And they all start shooting at the same time.
Maria pulls me off my chair and under the table. I’m afraid to look at the garage door, terrified I’ll see Matteo lying in a pool of his own blood there.
But he’s not there.
More gunshots sound. Quick, superbly targeted bullets are flying across the room like whispers.
And then Matteo is by Dante’s side, holding his little black knife to the man’s throat. Dante’s men are all on the floor, some of them still moving.
“Do it,” I call to Matteo as I climb out from under the table. “Finish him.”
A pair of arms pulls me back as I try to run to him to be by his side for this, to make sure it really is finished. Rafaelle is the one holding me back and then my dad is standing before me, blocking my view of Matteo and Dante.
The joy of seeing my father after all this time is warring with my need to be by Matteo’s side.
“Dad…” He rushes to me and gives me the tightest hug he’s ever given me, preventing me from saying anything more. Rafaelle releases my arms so I can hug him back.
“Gianna, my darling, my sweet daughter,” Dad is saying, his voice cracking with emotion. “You’re safe now. Everything will be all right now. I’m taking you home now.”
I can hear Matteo still talking to Dante, who doesn’t sound as mockingly menacing as he did all afternoon. He sounds scared.
“I am home.” I tell my dad, but he doesn’t hear me, just keeps repeating that I’m finally safe now, that he’s taking me home, how happy my mother and Lidia will be to see me, how we’ll be a family again soon.
He releases me just in time for me to see Dante fall to his knees in front of Matteo, blood gushing from his throat.
It’s done. It’s finally over.
I try to move past my dad to run to Matteo, because all I want is to wrap my arms around hm, feel his arms around me, hear his heartbeat, tell him everything will be good from here on out, hear him tell me the same. Hear him tell me the nightmare is finally over.
My dad turns too and by the time I register that he’s aiming his gun at Matteo, the bullet is already flying. I barely hear the shot this time. I just see the bullet hit Matteo. Watch him stumble back as though in slow motion. Watch his blood flow.
And I’m still stuck in that happy thought where the nightmare is finally over.
“No!” I hear my voice screaming as I run to Matteo, catching him in my arms before he can fall.
But he falls anyway. All I can do is cradle his face in my hands as I go down with him.
I look around the room, but everyone’s frozen. My dad with his gun still pointed at Matteo and me, an ugly grimace on his face, Rafaelle beside him, all of Matteo’s men with nearly identical looks of shock on their faces.
But then I feel the sunshine on my face and look at Matteo, whose eyes are fixed on mine, caressing me with their warmth. Maybe for the last time.
“It’s over, I won,” he says smiling at me. “You’ll be fine now. You both will.”
“No,” I whisper. “Don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much.”
The men around us all have their guns trained on my father and Rafaelle now.
“Me dying after this war was always a very real possibility,” Matteo says to me. “But at least I had you.”
“Have me, you have me,” I say. “Forever.”
He smiles then looks at his men. “Don’t kill the old man.”
Then he looks at me again, still smiling, but it’s fading.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says faintly. “Make sure our child knows about me.”
“You’ll tell him,” I say. “Stay with me. Stay with us. Fight.”
But his eyes are fluttering shut.
Then they close.
And they don’t open again. No matter how much I beg and plead. No matter how much I pray silently in my head. No matter how tightly I’m holding onto him.
And I feel no sunshine of his gaze caressing me anymore.
I never will again.