31. Giovanni
THIRTY-ONE
GIOVANNI
I sat in the chair, letting my mind clear and my fury ebb. I thought a shower would do me good, but even that couldn’t extinguish this anger boiling inside me. Knowing sleep wouldn’t find me, I pulled on a pair of pajama pants and stared at the darkness surrounding my property.
I should have known that my mother wouldn’t let the news of my marriage to Lia rest. It took her no time at all to sink her claws into Cristiano and attempt her manipulation, as was clear from that disaster of a “family” dinner.
Curse that fucking woman.
Yes, she brought me into this world, but I didn’t think there was a single bone in her body that cared for anyone but herself.
Romeo and I weren’t close to her, witnessing her many cruelties to others over the years, but Cristiano was spared seeing those. Hence he saw her in a better light than us, and she used him to get what she wanted from the rest of us.
A whimper pulled my attention to the bed where I found Lia in a fetal position, eyes shut tight and her brow furrowed as if in pain.
Her mouth opened and closed multiple times, but no words came out—only whimpers and grunts. Her body shook, but the pain etched on her face was like a dagger straight to my heart.
I stood and carefully approached the bed. I lowered to my knees, cupping Lia’s face.
“No, please,” she whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks and onto my thumbs. “No… no… please.”
“Lia, my love. Wake up.”
She tossed her head around, and I knew a nightmare had her in its hold.
“Don’t hurt him, please. Please,” she whimpered.
“Who?” I asked against my better judgment, keeping my voice soft. “Who’s hurting him, Lia?”
There were still things she held back, buried underneath her layers, and until everything was out in the open, I feared we’d keep running into roadblocks.
“Please…”
Her body shook harder, her cries became louder, and she repeated her pleas over and over again.
“Lia, nobody will hurt you again.” I gripped her face tightly, peppering kisses all over and tasting salty tears. “You’re with me. Wake up, wildflower.”
I hoped my touch would pull her from the nightmare and bring her back to me.
“It hurts,” she whimpered.
“You’re here with me. I will never let anyone hurt you. You’re safe.”
Keeping my voice gentle, I kept talking to her, hoping that would release her from her nightmare and the demons that seemed intent on disrupting her peace.
“I’m here,” I murmured. “I’ll always be here.”
As if my words finally reached her, the tortured lines on Lia’s face smoothed out, but she still trembled, tears rolling down her cheeks.
My mouth brushed against hers as I tried to ease her pain in the way that seemed to work best.
Her tremors finally eased and she opened her eyes, confusion in them as they darted around frantically. She blinked, pulling away.
“You’re safe with me, Lia,” I said softly.
Her eyes found mine and, even in the darkness of the room, I could see devastation in them.
“Did I… attack you?”
“No.”
She slid her sweat-drenched body off the bed and into my arms in a move so unlike her I almost toppled over, taking her with me. It was like she was seeking protection, and I was the one she’d chosen.
The moment her cheek touched my bare chest, she fell apart all over again, sobbing uncontrollably.
“That’s right. Let it all out,” I soothed. “You’re safe now.”
“They killed him.” Her words were barely audible through her sobs. “They took everything from me.”
I stroked her hair, keeping her close to me. “Who?”
“The Mistress. Santiago. Perez,” she cried.
I wished for the hundredth time I could kill those motherfuckers.
“What has she done to you? This Mistress?” Because when I found that woman, I intended to bury her six feet under. Alive.
“She took my baby.” My hand paused for the briefest of moments before I resumed stroking her hair. “She killed… my baby. She threw his tiny body into a tr-trash bag and laughed.” Her words were broken by hiccups, her heartbreak in every syllable. “I think it was a boy, but I’m not even sure. I never even got to hold him.”
I clenched my jaw, rage boiling my blood. No human being should endure what this woman had to in order to survive. “Does this woman have a name?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been searching.”
I took her chin between my fingers and lifted her head, peering into her golden eyes.
“We’ll search together.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. Then I scooped her up and tucked her into bed, sliding in behind her.
“We’ll find her, Lia, and then we’ll make her pay for everything. Together.”
With my hand over her heart and her delicate palm over mine, she repeated in a soft whisper, “Together.”
The Mistress—whoever she was—would regret the day she ever laid her eyes on my Lia, because nobody made my wife cry and lived to tell the tale.