Chapter 21
Finn
It takes all the effort in me to stop myself from sleeping with Gianna.
Every nerve in my body screams to give in; to touch, to feel, to lose myself in her, but I don't. Not now.
Not with everything happening. We lie side by side facing each other, still recovering from the heat of our make-out session.
Her breath is soft and uneven, her lips red and swollen. She looks so beautiful, it's painful.
I reach out, tracing my thumb over her lips slowly, then gently tucking the loose strand of hair clinging to her cheek behind her ear.
She closes her eyes briefly at the touch, and I feel my chest tighten.
After Declan's threat, I knew I had to protect her.
Whatever it takes, but something gnaws at the back of my mind.
Something that has always been there, but I chose to ignore, because wanting her was easier than doubting her.
I don't want to ask her again, but it's been eating me up since my conversation with Ailish and Declan. "Gianna," I say in a low voice. She opens her eyes slowly and responds with a soft, hoarse hum.
I hesitate for half a second before I ask. "Are you the mole?" Her eyes widen immediately, and something shifts in the air between us. She doesn't answer. Not right away. She stares at me, and I see the battle raging inside her.
Her lips part slightly, but no sound comes. She looks away, then back at me, and that's when I see it. The conflict, the fear, and the guilt. She swallows hard and slowly sits up, pulling the sheets with her as she rests her back against the headboard. Her arms wrap loosely around her knees.
I sit up too, turning to face her fully, searching her eyes for something, anything.
I need to know the truth. At this point, I'm not sure if the truth will change anything because I'm already far too deep into this.
I've crossed lines I never imagined with her.
I've defended her, protected her, and my feelings for her are too strong for me to ignore anymore.
I reach out, gently taking her hand in mine. Her fingers are cold. I rub slow, soothing circles on the back of her palm.
"It's okay," I murmur. "I just want to know the truth."
She looks down at our joined hands. When she meets my eyes, I see tears swim in her irises like storm clouds about to burst. "I am," she whispers. "Vito sent me to you as a mole when he found out about our relationship."
The air in the room changes, but I don't flinch. I'm supposed to be surprised, maybe lash out. I should shove her away, feel betrayed to my bones, but none of that comes. Instead, there's a strange, still ache in my chest. Because deep down... I already knew.
Ailish had said it. Declan practically carved it into my skull.
I think I knew the truth the moment I saw her in Declan's office that day.
Her words, her body language, her eyes. I knew.
But knowing meant I'd have to face the reality.
It means I couldn't have her. That every look, every touch, every kiss would have to end.
So, I did what cowards do best. I lied to myself.
I've always lied to myself when it comes to Gianna.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I lied to you," she says again, her voice shaking.
It breaks my heart to see her cry. Every sob feels like a knife between my ribs.
And even now, even now, I want to protect and comfort her.
I lift my hand, brushing the tears from her face, my thumb lingering at the corner of her eye.
"It's okay," I murmur. "I guess deep down.
.. I knew. I just wanted to keep you by my side. "
Her shoulders shake harder, and she breaks down completely, collapsing into my arms. I hold her tightly as she sobs into my shoulder, the weight of guilt and truth finally crushing her.
We remain like that for several minutes, the silence between us thick and heavy.
Her breath hitches every now and then, and I keep rubbing gentle circles on her back.
"Every time I lie to you," she says, her voice muffled against my chest, "the guilt eats me alive. I hated it. I hated myself for it. I'm so sorry, Finn."
I kiss her forehead softly. "I know," I say. "I know."
She leans back slightly, her eyes red and swollen. "Why are we here, Finn?" she asks, searching my eyes.
There's no point hiding it from her anymore. I meet her gaze head-on. "Declan wants to start a war," I say, jaw tightening. "And he wants to use you. He... wanted to kill you. Said he's sending your body to Vito as a warning."
Gianna doesn't look surprised. Her mouth presses into a flat line, but her eyes dim with a resignation that tells me she expected this much. Maybe not the how, but the when.
"If this safe house belongs to your family, then he can find us here," she states the obvious.
I nod. "I know. I just wanted to get you out of that place first."
We both go quiet, lost in our thoughts, the silence stretching between us like a thin rope pulled tight. My gaze stays fixed on the floor, but the words gnawing at my chest finally break through. "Gianna," I say, and she turns to look at me, her expression soft but wary.
"Remember when you used to tell me you wanted to run away?" I ask, the memory vivid now, those stolen moments when she would talk about leaving everything behind, escaping the darkness of our world and starting over somewhere unknown.
"Yeah?" she replies, her brows rising in gentle surprise. I take a deep breath. "We can do that now. We can leave all of this behind and live our lives. Just me and you."
I can't believe I'm even suggesting it, but after everything, after her confession, after Declan's threat, I don't see another way. It's the only thing that makes sense to me right now. It's the only way I can guarantee Gianna's safety.
Gianna's lips pull into a soft smile as her eyes remain on me for a few seconds before the smile drops. She lets out a slow, weary sigh and inches closer.
"Trust me, Finn," she begins, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "As much as I want to run away from everything... we can't."
It's my turn to sigh, because now is not the time to be stubborn. "Gianna..." I begin, but she cuts me off, her voice calm but firm. "We both know there's nowhere we can go that Vito and Declan won't find us."
I run a hand over my face, dragging it through my hair.
The frustration churns in my chest, hot and helpless.
She's right. As much as I hate to admit it, she's right.
"We can at least try," I say anyway, my voice laced with desperation as I run through every half-formed plan in my head.
Every scenario that could maybe, somehow, work.
Gianna just shakes her head slowly. "We have to face this head-on. If we don't, we'll spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders. Living in fear."