Chapter 21
Gemma
Lombardy was a fleeting dream. Three days.
That’s all it took before Carina’s call shattered the peace.
“Get back to Sicily. Now. Lucio is in the emergency room,” she’d screeched.
Doubt had flickered in Enzo’s eyes, struggling to trust his own mother.
He spent an hour trying to reach his brother by phone, a growing frustration, until he could no longer handle the suspense and barked at the pilot to ready the jet.
He’d paced the entire flight. My attempts to distract him, urging him to sit beside me, earned me a snarl, the peace of the last few days already a distant memory. Carina had revealed next to nothing over the phone, just a frantic plea for his immediate return.
The limo screeched to a halt. He barely waited for the door to open before he surged toward the house, the familiar crunch of gravel under his feet a stark contrast to the smooth marble of the Lombardy estate. He charged toward the doors but staggered back as Lucio strolled out, not a mark on him.
“You’re here?” Lucio gawked, scratching at his temple. “What happened to Lombardy?”
Enzo stumbled, his momentum shattered by his brother’s nonchalant presence. “You’re okay?” The words escaped, strained.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” The younger man snorted, but his smirk faltered when neither of us laughed, the tension thicker than smoke.
Carina stepped out to join us. I bet this woman constructed this entire scheme to suit her own advantage. Enzo heeded his mother, his dangerous glare narrowed into tiny slits.
“You left me no choice, Enzo.” She admitted, not even sugarcoating her behavior. “How else would I’ve convinced you to come back?”
Enzo spun his phone and shoved the call history at Lucio. “I tried calling—multiple times.”
Lucio retrieved his own device and frowned. “I received nothing.”
Carina tipped her chin, a cold amusement in her eyes. “You wouldn’t have. I used a signal blocker on your phone.”
The air crackled with the brothers’ collective rage. Lucio’s face flushed a dangerous red, his breath a frustrated hiss. “What is wrong with you, Carina?”
“Why the urgency for me to return?” Enzo’s tone carried a grave note.
Carina flicked her burgundy bob, her solemnity almost passing as boredom. She offered no apology, nor showed any signs of regret. Calculating to the bone. “What was I meant to do, ask nicely?”
“Why?” Enzo demanded, his jaw set tight.
Carina cocked a brow. “Tommaso called. He wants to meet us tonight and says it’s urgent.”
My grip on his arm tightened. No. No way she’d cart me back to Franco’s house. She couldn’t do this… not again. “Enzo.” His name left my lips in a broken whisper.
He signaled the guards to stop from retrieving our luggage. “You’ve lost your mind if you think we’ll go.”
“Franco wants to apologize to you both.” Carina’s focus strayed to me. For the first time since meeting this woman, she graced me with a soft, kind… flash of teeth. Close enough to a genuine smile, I guess. “Gemma, for the sake of my family, please come.”
Enzo shielded me from his mother. “Don’t ask her. I’m her husband, I decide, and my decision is final. We’re not going.”
Carina’s mouth twisted, the kindness she’d bestowed a second ago gone. “Don’t force me to retaliate.”
He huffed out a laugh but gnashed his teeth. “I’m real tired of your scare tactics, Carina.”
“ Quindi , don’t persuade me to use them. Now, you three get inside, get dressed, and be ready. We leave in an hour.” She stormed into the house, leaving us all dumbfounded on the front porch.
I waited for him to take my hand, hop back into the limo and return to Lombardy, but he nodded to his brother. “You heard her, go on.”
Lucio raked a hand through his hair and stormed into the house.
So, Carina won? “You’re not serious. Why cave to her?” The lump in my throat made it difficult to speak, even though I already knew the answer. He refused to gamble with Carina’s threats, because rest assured, she lived up to them.
He snagged my shoulders and inclined so close, his breath ghosted my face. “Have I ever lied to you?”
I ground my molars so tight my teeth ached. “No, but—”
“But nothing, Gemma.” He jolted me with a firm but gentle shake. “Go inside and get ready.”
The Enzo I knew in Lombardy—the one who’d laughed, teased, used actual manners—was gone.
Returned to a cold, resolute psychopath.
The realization slammed into me, a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs.
The audacity of him to do this to me, put me through this anguish all for his mother’s happiness.
I shoved past him, needing to escape before the storm inside me erupted.
◆◆◆
An hour later, we stood in the foyer, my gaze darting nervously around the opulent space, heart hammering against my ribs.
The last family gathering, I tried blending in.
This time, I played it safe, choosing designer jeans and a long, billowy blouse, desperate to seem invisible.
Carina’s gaze found me anyway, raking me from head to toe, her lip curling in a silent sneer.
She kept her opinions to herself. Good. She forced me back to that mausoleum, and I was in no mood for her criticism.
But Franco… the mere possibility of seeing him again sent a cold wave of nausea through me, threatening to buckle my knees.
And Enzo? He had abandoned me… after promising to keep me safe.
“I’m riding with Enzo.” Lucio, his voice low, bypassed his mother and barged through the front door, his hand instinctively patting his brother’s shoulder as he passed, a subtle reassurance in the face of Carina’s theatrics.
Enzo appeared at my side, but I turned my back, refusing to pay him any heed after his betrayal. “Let’s go.”
I dodged past him, avoiding his guiding hand.
Carina hopped into the limo alone, while Lucio and I slid into Enzo’s car.
I hunched in the back, letting Lucio take the front.
Enzo noticed my snub, his eyes narrowing.
I bit back the childish urge to poke out my tongue.
We followed the limo off the property. My heart hammered in my chest. Sweat dotted my forehead.
The air in the car hung thick and still.
Even the sweet, spicy incense of Enzo’s cologne couldn’t soothe my anxiety.
Each passing palm tree blurred into the next, a green and brown streak against the fading sky.
I bounced my leg, a frantic rhythm against the floor, anything to ground myself, to keep the panic at bay.
The limo veered right onto the road. Enzo hooked a left. A different route?
Lucio whipped to face his brother. “Enzo?”
The space vibrated with an incoming call. Carina.
Enzo answered, his voice deceptively calm. “Yes, Carina?”
“Why aren’t you following the limo?” Her voice screeched through the speaker.
His grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles gleamed white. “What was I meant to do, ask?” he threw her earlier words back at her.
A spark of hope flickered in my chest. Had he tricked her? Led her to believe he was complying? Thank God.
Carina grumbled something unintelligible, the sound filling the car. “Cut this out, Enzo. Your family is waiting for you.”
His strong jaw flexed, his eyes flashing. “I’d rather have no family than call those people my relatives.” He ended the call, silencing his mother. “Lucio, switch off my phone.”
Lucio grinned as he complied, his easy-going nature always shining through.
I leaned forward, slipping my hand over his shoulder, and whispered, “thank you.” My throat constricted.
With one hand on the wheel, he squeezed my hand gently.
“So, where are we headed if not Tommaso’s house?” Lucio rubbed his hands together.
“Tonight is Passeggiate Dei Giganti .” Enzo met my gaze in the rearview. “We won’t hear the end of Carina’s nagging anyway, so let’s enjoy our freedom while we can.”
Lucio winked my way. “What do you say, Gemma? Sound good?” There was something in his grin, an easy warmth that went beyond simple politeness.
It wasn’t explicit, but it was there: a feeling that, unlike his mother, Lucio didn’t automatically disapprove of me.
It was a small comfort, a flicker of acceptance in the face of Carina’s coldness.
“I’m in.” Passeggiate Dei Giganti. Walk of the Giants . I’d heard about the festival from my father, but never attended. Now? I’d travel to space if it meant avoiding Franco.
Road closures forced us to park blocks away.
We joined the throng on foot, shoulder to shoulder with strangers.
A mixture of sweat and cheap cologne hung in the air.
Every step was a fight for space, each breath a desperate inhale of warm, stale air.
Any minute now, someone would trample my feet.
The idiom felt so relatable; we were sardines in a tin can.
I squeezed Enzo’s shoulder, raising my voice. “Is it always this insane?”
“Every year it gets bigger!” He yelled back, his grip tightening on my hand.
A sharp grin touched Lucio’s lips as he rocked slightly on his heels, his eyes gleaming. “Here come the giants!”
We nudged through the crowd, ignoring the rapid-fire Italian rebukes.
August heat and the press of bodies glued my blouse to my skin.
The urge to bolt to Papa’s florist, to immerse in the cool air of the walk-in refrigerator, intensified.
An open gap appeared, or maybe the crowd sensed the two intimidating men flanking me and gave way.