Page 90 of Crimson Fate

“Is something wrong?” I press.

She bites at her lip, staring at me now with apprehension in her eyes.

“Gia still wouldn’t answer the door when I tried to visit her,” she says.

I shake my head. “I wish we could tell her the truth, but that lie is for our protection.”

“She thinks she killed her father, Vincent. Marco says she’s so depressed she won’t even leave the house.”

“She’ll get over it,” I assure her.

“And what if she doesn’t?” Eva asks, wide-eyed.

I sigh, my heart heavy with the weight of Eva’s worry. “Gia isn’t exactly a fragile soul. Eventually, she will bounce back, but I can’t risk telling the truth about that night.”

Eva’s fingers tighten their grip on mine as she looks into my eyes, searching for reassurance. “I don’t understand. Why not? Anthony betrayed the family. Everyone will understand why you did what you did.”

I take a deep breath as I gather my thoughts. I don’t like explaining myself, but Eva constantly challenges me. “I should have told Gia that night in the hospital that I was the one who killed her father, but I didn’t. The more time passed, the more it became fact. I can’t go back now and change my story about what happened. The other capos will think I didn’t do it because I’m a coward. Marco would be furious if I didn’t tell him the truth. I hate that I can’t change this, but unfortunately, now, the best path forward is to let the truth stand that it was Gia’s weapon that ended Anthony’s life, and I covered it up with the fire to protect us all.”

Eva sits in silence, digesting the weight of my words. I can see the struggle on her face, torn between wanting to help Gia and trusting me.

“I hate seeing her suffer,” Eva says at last. “She needs closure.”

I stroke her cheek gently, my thumb tracing circles against her skin. “I know, baby. The way you care about people is one of the reasons I love you so much, but I need you to trust me that this is for the best. Gia will have to find her own way to heal. Besides, Gia made her choice when she decided to help her dad leave town.”

“Don’t forget, she’s also why we all ended up being saved that night. Nico too,” she reminds me.

Frustrated, I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It is what it is, and we can’t do anything to change it.”

Eva’s eyes search mine, the worry etched into every line of her face. She squeezes my hand tighter before finally nodding in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” I say softly, kissing her forehead tenderly.

We sit there in silence for a moment, the weight of our emotions hanging heavy in the air. The old house creaks around us as if echoing our shared burden. But through it all, Eva’s presence remains my anchor.

“Ti amo mia bellissima principessa,” I whisper into the stillness, my voice filled with devotion.

She looks at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I love you too.”

As the words spill from Eva’s lips, a wave of relief hits me. Eva understands the darkness that lurks within me, yet she chooses to love me anyway.

Chapter Thirty-Five

One Month Later

Gia

I hear the doorbell and flip up the security camera on my laptop. The number of visitors I have has greatly diminished in the past few weeks, which I am grateful for. Initially, after my father’s death, the intrusions were constant. If it wasn’t the cops, always with a few more questions, it was Amelia or Eva. Their visits were the most annoying, considering they hadn’t seen my home when my father was alive.

I suppose part of me understands it. I killed my father basically to protect Eva and Amelia’s brother, Vincent, and his friends. What they don’t know is I never intended to kill my dad. I was raised by a man who wanted me to know how to shoot a man without killing him. I thought I had hit my father more in the shoulder, but apparently, my calculations were off. I wasn’t trying to be a hero. Had I known it would have ended his life, I don’t think I would have taken the shot that night.

Marco presses the buzzer again before speaking into the intercom. “Please let me in,” he pleads. “I’m not leaving until you at least talk to me.”

I toss my laptop to the side and secure my robe around my body. I don’t care that my unwashed hair is in a messy topknot or that I am going on a solid week in the same pair of pajamas. I pull the door open and lean against the doorframe, arms folded. “What?” I huff, glaring at him.

Marco doesn’t flinch at my tone. Instead, he looks past me into the dimly lit interior, seeking silent permission. I don’t bite.

“Can I come in?” he asks at last.