Chapter 28 #2
I tell myself I’ll wait. That when he’s ready, I’ll try again. But beneath the ache is something restless. The need to do something. To prove to him that he’s wrong about me. To drag the truth into his hands until he has no choice but to see it.
It is later in the day when I hear the soft vibration on the table beside me. The sound is almost nothing against the hush of the room, but it pulls me out of the fog I’ve been sitting in since Giovanni left.
The phone screen lights, and the name there stills me.
Vittorio Greco.
For a long moment, I do not move. The light fades, the screen goes dark again, but my pulse is already in my throat. I should delete it without opening it. Pretend it never reached me. Pretend my body hasn’t already gone cold at the thought of him knowing how to reach me at all.
I unlock the screen. The message is short. No wasted words.
I want to see you. Tonight. You know where.
I stare at it until the letters stop making sense. There is no threat in the wording, but I hear it all the same. There is no explanation, but I know he never sends for someone without reason.
My first thought is to go to Giovanni. To tell him.
To put the phone in his hand and let him see for himself.
But I can already imagine his face when he reads it, the look in his eyes that has been there since he found those photographs.
The doubt that will deepen, harden, until it is no longer doubt at all.
If I tell him, he will not think I am warning him. He will think I have been caught. That I am going to him willingly because I have always belonged there.
And maybe, in his mind, this message will be the proof he has been waiting for.
I set the phone down on the table, then pick it up again almost immediately. My fingers hover over the screen, my breath shallow.
If I go, I could find out what Vittorio wants from me. I could find something to bring back to Giovanni that will make him see I am not his enemy. That I have never been.
But I can't go without Giovanni's knowledge or consent. The thought comes hard and fast. Even with everything between us now, he has to know. I have to let him know. But the thought of facing him, of seeing that hardness in his eyes, twists my stomach, but I won’t go behind his back. Not now, not ever.
I do not hesitate. I pocket my phone, then proceed to the study, where I know he is in a meeting with Tomasso and some of his men. The door is slightly ajar. I take a deep breath and push it open.
Giovanni looks up. His eyes narrow at the sight of me. The men freeze. The room holds its breath. He is angry. That much is clear. His jaw tight, his shoulders stiff.
“What are you doing here, Liliana?” he asks, his voice low, edged with irritation.
The men shift, sensing the tension, and Tomasso clears his throat, standing. “We’ll give you a moment,” he says, and the others follow, filing out quietly, leaving us alone in the heavy silence.
I step forward, my hands trembling as I pull the phone from my pocket. I know he’s angry, that he thinks I’ve betrayed him, but I won’t hide this. My pulse races as I unlock the screen and hold it out to him, my fingers steady despite the storm in my chest.
He takes it, his eyes scanning the words, and his face darkens, a bitter laugh escaping him. “What’s this, Liliana? A secret rendezvous? Why show me this? Planning to slip away and meet him behind my back?”
The sarcasm in his voice is a cut deep, and pain blooms in my chest. I swallow it down, forcing patience, knowing his anger comes from hurt.
I sign, my hands deliberate, I’m showing you because I love you. I’d never go behind your back.
His eyes narrow, doubt etched in every line of his face, but I hold his gaze, willing him to see the truth
“No,” he says abruptly, rising to his full height. “Over my dead body.”
I keep my voice steady as I sign again. “I have to. I want to know what he is planning.”
Giovanni shakes his head violently as he begins to pace. “I said no. You are not going.”
I take a deep breath and meet his gaze. “You care for me,” I sign. “I know you do. That is why I will go.”
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “If you think I will let you risk yourself and our unborn babies, think again,” he growls.
Giovanni…
“You’re not walking into his trap, Liliana. I refuse.”
I persist, my hands moving faster, I can handle this. I need to prove I’m with you, not against you.
He stops, his eyes burning into mine, and for a moment, I think he’ll refuse again. “You’re pregnant,” he says, softer now, but still unyielding. “You think I’d let you risk our babies?”
The mention of our twins, the life we’re building, warms me despite his anger, and I sigh, Trust me on this, please, Giovanni.
The silence stretches, heavy with our shared pain, and I see the war in his eyes, the distrust battling love.
Finally, he exhales, but his shoulders remain as stiff as ever. “Fine. But I’m going with you. My men, too.”
I shake my head, signing, Vittorio said to come alone.
Giovanni’s jaw tightens, his voice low and fierce. “If you think I’ll let you risk yourself and our babies, think again.”
The protectiveness in his words, despite his anger, wraps around my heart, and I nod, agreeing, warmed by the proof he still cares.
I know my protection and that of our babies is crucial, but please, trust me on this. It’s the only way we can flush Vittorio out. I sign.
Later in the evening, we prepare for my meeting with the enemy.
Giovanni puts a wire on me discreetly, hidden beneath my clothing, so he can listen to everything Vittorio tells me.
His men will stay back, strategically positioned.
He arranges them carefully, briefing them on precisely what to do. They fall in line, silent and precise.
We leave the estate. Giovanni and I take one car, with tinted windows that keep anyone from seeing us. The road stretches before us, the city lights flickering like distant stars.
I grip my hands together, my fingers tight, my stomach fluttering with nerves. Giovanni reaches over, taking one hand in his. “I will not let anything happen to you,” he says, his voice low, unwavering.
I nod, reassured by the strength in his tone, the protection in his gaze.
The journey stretches while Giovanni goes over the plan with his men again and again over the with his men. With every passing block, my pulse quickens. The anticipation, the danger, the need to know, everything coils tight inside me.
Finally, the car stops in front of the bar. The building looms in the dim light, shadows pooling in the corners. Giovanni pockets his phone and glances at me, and I feel the weight of his presence, protective, commanding.
He places a hand on my knee. “Stay calm. Nothing will happen to you while I am here,” he says.
I nod, taking a deep breath. My heart hammers in my chest as we prepare to step into the place where Vittorio waits, unaware of the eyes and ears surrounding him.
As I open the door, a small, quiet wish rises in my chest. I wish he would tell me he loves me before I step out. Just a word, a single word from him, to remind me that despite everything, I still belong to him.
The doors are just ahead. My decision is made. My courage is steady.
I am ready.