Chapter 19 Giovanna
Giovanna
Ihaven’t heard from Tommy since yesterday morning, and his silence is a physical thing in the room that wraps around the cardboard moving boxes stacked in neat, unforgiving towers.
I should have been back at school this morning, but I stalled because he said he’d help me move back into my Bleeker Street apartment.
He was a no-show yesterday and today, so after commuting to class this morning, I’m back at my parents’ house, stuck between boxes and indecision, losing my fucking mind.
Why isn’t he answering me? Tommy never ignores my texts, and after what happened in his car, I expected…
something. Anything. Yesterday I waited for him all day, staring at my phone, half-convinced he’d pull up outside or just show up in my room and finish what we started the other night.
He had some work for his father yesterday morning, but since then—nothing.
Silence. The longer it stretches, the more restless I feel, like I’m clawing at the inside of my own skin.
I keep replaying the car over and over, the heat, the hunger, the way he unraveled me.
Every time the memory sneaks in, my body responds instantly, wet and aching, immediately followed by inexplicable fear.
Is he not texting because he got hurt working for his dad?
I’m about to try to find one of his brothers’ numbers to make sure Tommy is okay when my father sticks his head in the doorway and smiles at me.
It’s his fake smile, the one he reserves for public events.
He never wastes one on me, so it feels more like a threat than a kindness.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“What do you want?” I snap.
He steps into the room, his smile oddly growing bigger.
“Tough day?”
“No.” I turn my back on him and cross my arms, staring at the boxes.
Why is he in such a fucking good mood?
Oh shit.
“Dad.” I turn slowly back to him. “Did you say something to Tommy?”
“I did see Tommy yesterday.” His voice drops, and when he says Tommy’s name, the smile curdles.
“And?”
My father shrugs and leans against the door frame.
“I said a few things.”
“God damn it, Dad!” I flop heavily on the edge of my bed, exactly where Tommy was sitting when I came out of the bathroom and found him in my room last week.
“What the actual fuck is your problem?”
My father bristles.
“I think you know what my problem is. Or was. If he’s smart, it won’t be a problem anymore.
”
He continues talking, but I whip out my phone and begin rage texting Tommy.
I know my father talked to you.
Fuck you for listening to him.
Fuck you for ghosting me.
Fuck you for making decisions for me.
You and my father don’t get to choose who I fuck.
When I look up, my mother has joined my dad in the doorway.
She watches me, concern softening her features.
“Giovanna, you understand your father is trying to protect you.”
I laugh, hollow and loud.
“Actually, I do not understand. If I want to fuck Tommy Demonio, it is ridiculous that you think you have a say in that!”
My father’s face turns almost purple as he clenches his fists.
He lunges forward like he’s going to hit me again, and I lift my chin.
The room tightens, and the air tastes like static.
Darting a glance at my mother, he steps back, spluttering, “Giovanna, if you go anywhere near that boy, you are cutoff. No tuition, no apartment, no place for you here, either.”
He turns to look at my mother, who raises an eyebrow at him.
Something unspoken flickers between them, and he throws his hands in the air, then crosses his arms, glaring at me.
My mom cuts her eyes at me, a secret look that says she understands what I’m saying but she’s trying to appease my father.
Fuck that.
She places her hand on my dad’s forearm.
“Honey, I think your dad is trying to say that you should keep your options open. You’re almost 19.
You have college, years of life ahead. Don’t tie yourself down to a boy from high school.
”
Lorenzo growls, “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.
You should not be with a Demonio—any Demonio.
Antonio Abbiati is the right match. We discussed this, Giovanna, and you agreed.
”
He throws a fist into the plastered hallway wall so hard the echo rings down the hall.
A bruise of plaster flakes off and skitters across the floor as he storms down the stairs.
My mother gives me a small smile and a little head shake like my dad is just being a little cranky.
I’ve never seen him lose his shit like that or punch a wall.
That’s not a little cranky. It’s insane behavior.
“Men.” Her laugh is that fake tinkly laugh she uses at parties to dissolve tension.
I just stare at her. Delulu. Please do not let me turn into some simpering robot who makes excuses for her man’s fucked up behavior.
She smiles. “You know what I think? I think Tommy is cute. Why not have a little fling, have some fun? Then you go back to school and focus on what matters.”
I look at her like the idea is as crazy as she is.
“A fling? He’s definitely not trying to just have a fling with me.
”
I flash on how he looked at me in the car the other night, held me, kissed me.
So much more than a fling. I glance down at my silent phone.
At least I thought it was.
She regards me for a moment, then moves to a pile of clothes on the bed and starts folding them.
“And how do you feel about him?”
I shrug.
The other night with Tommy was life-changing for me.
But if he’s not texting me because of whatever my dad said to him, maybe it wasn’t as life-changing for him as I thought.
She nods, continuing to fold my clothes, lost in thought.
“I had a Tommy once.” She sneaks a glance at me over her shoulder and winks.
“It’s okay to have a little fun, baby. What your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
”
“Catarina, get out.” My father rages back into my room, and my mother looks at him like he slapped her.
Maybe that’s happened in the past, because when he edges toward her, fists clenched, fury on his face, she averts her eyes and slips out.
“Do not listen to your mother,” my father snarls.
“Antonio Abbiati will be here to pick you up in an hour. Get dressed for dinner.”
Horror washes over me.
What the fuck?
“Fuck that! That’s not happening, not a fucking chance—”
When my father backhands me this time, I come back at him hard, snarling.
“You cannot force me to be in a relationship with someone I don’t even like!
”
He grabs my wrist and twists it behind my back, shoving me face first into the pile of clothes my mother was folding.
His hot breath is on my ear as he bends over me.
“You will fucking do what you are told or you will be cut off and kicked out. I will not have a Demonio whore for a daughter. You will go out with Antonio, you will build a relationship with Antonio, and when it is appropriate, you will marry him. If you so much as speak to Tommy ever again, your life with us is over. You will be shipped out of New York somewhere far away from Tommy and everyone we know so that you won’t embarrass us anymore.
”
He stands up, releasing me with a shove.
“Now get cleaned up. You look like shit.”
I’m shaking with rage as he smooths his shirt and tie and walks calmly out of my room without looking at me.
Fuck him. Fuck his money. And fuck Tommy for doing anything my shitheel of a father says.