Gustavo is furious.I don't think I've ever seen him like this. I barely recognize him. Why is he holding that gun? And why does it seem like Enzo expected this? I feel like an outsider once again. I have no idea of what's happening right now.He says, "Come with me, Chiara. You," he points at Enzo with the gun. "You stay the hell away from her."Enzo stands up. "You don't tell her what to do. And who do you think you're talking to?" Gustavo ignores him. He turns to me. His brow is furrowed and his lips are in a snarl. For the first time since I met him, I'm afraid of him. I've never seen him like this. He says, "Come, Chiara. You have no business being here with him. I'm going to take you back home, someplace safe." I don't like his tone at all. He's been using it on me for some time now. I'm not a child, yet he keeps treating me like one. "You didn't keep her safe to begin with," Enzo interjects. "You can't keep her safe. She would've been killed tonight, if it weren't for me."En
I look at Enzo.He's breathing heavily. His eyes search my face and body to make sure I'm safe, that no bullet hit me. We both look at Gustavo, who's lying on the ground. Dead. I place my hand over my mouth. I can't believe that has happened. I can't believe that he was going to kill me, after everything we've been through. This night has turned out to be a nightmare. An absolute nightmare."We need to go," he says to me, as if he didn't just kill his own brother. I'm being unfair, I know that. He was going to kill one of us, and all Enzo did was try to keep us both safe.But he's dead.Enzo lifts me off the ground when I refuse to move. He shoves me inside the vehicle and slams the door in my face. I stare at Gustavo’s body through the window, at the pool of blood around his torso. I'm seeing it, but I can't quite believe my eyes. He gets inside the driver's seat and starts the car.We speed away from the bloody scene. I wonder briefly if anyone will ever find these people. This cab
I can't bring myself to walk inside just yet. The last time I was here, I was dragged out by Enzo himself. He's standing by the entrance and is watching me as if he knows what I'm thinking. I'm too deflated to be angry, all I can do is look around. My mother's garden is destroyed. Weeds and birds got to it. There are still some flowers I recognize here and there. My hands are itching to fix them, to restore this garden, but I know that that won't ever happen. It won't be the same without her. She spent years and so much effort on this small piece of land, but that has all gone to waste. I settle my eyes on the front door again. Enzo has the keys with him. I don't ask him how he has them. It doesn't matter at this point. He probably got them from one of his men, after they finished the job. "Aren't you going to come in?" he asks me. I shake my head. "Why did you bring me here?" "This is your home," he says. "I thought you'd want to spend the night here instead of some motel."He
She fires the first shot. I realize that this is the second time in a matter of hours that someone has tried to kill me. Only, something isn't right. She isn't looking at me, in fact it's almost as if I'm not even here. She's staring at the person behind me, Enzo, and I realize that her gun is pointed at him.She's trying to kill Enzo. But why? No, that's a stupid question. It isn't hard to imagine why. The way I feel about him is the same way she must be feeling, only ten times worse because she knew about what he did all along, and I didn't. I fell in love with him before that, and my love for him cushioned the blow of his betrayal. "No, stop!" I exclaim. She isn't listening to me. She fires another shot, and he falls to the ground. For a breathless second, I thing that maybe she hit him, that he's going to bleed to death on this patio. But he wasn't shot, he's fumbling with his own weapon. Her gun is poised, she's ready to fire another shot. Each step she takes brings her close
I glance at the time on my phone. It's almost time for me to embark. I'm nervous and excited at the same time. I can't believe I'm finally doing this. The last couple of weeks have been absolutely horrible for me, with everything that happened the night Enzo died.He was dead before the paramedics arrived. If they'd been even a minute later, he wouldn't have been able to make it. They reanimated him with a defibrillator. I watched in shock as his body lurched. It was the worst ten seconds of my entire life. I couldn't go with him to the hospital. I had to explain to the authorities why there were three dead bodies in my front yard. I went with the obvious explanation; I didn't know who they were. I said Enzo was my boyfriend, and we were going to spend a few days here, but when they showed up, he had no choice but to shoot them. I never fired my gun, only he did. I remember these officers. They'd stop by sometimes for coffee and cake whenever they were in the neighborhood. I went to
I put my favorite pearl earrings on. What I love most about them? They go well with everything. I bought them when I visited Paris. I fell in love with the pair as soon as I set my eyes on them. They reminded me of a pair my mother had but never wore. They sat at the bottom of her jewellery box, but sometimes I'd catch her staring at them. I never gave it a second thought; I never thought that they were valuable. Where would she even get the money to buy a real pair of pearl and diamond earrings? Now, I figured that they were probably gifted to her by my father. So much has happened since I left Italy. I settled down in Lisbon, until I decided I could no longer stay. It was a beautiful city, and I loved the food more than anything. But there was something missing, and that was something Lisbon had in common with every city I traveled to. They were marvelous in all aspects, but they just didn't feel like home. That all changed when I met Eric.He was an American living in Vienna. We
Eighteen Years BeforeVenice, ItalyFrediano Giaccobbe was on his knees in front of Giotto Puglia. There was a huge gash on his forehead and blood trickled down his pale face, and there was a bullet wound on his side. He was dying and he knew it. Giotto pointed a gun at him and his finger rested on the trigger. "You smell like a dead man, Frediano."He suppressed the urge to laugh. He couldn't speak, he could only shake his head and wheeze. Already his vision was blurry. There was no more pain. He could only think of his family.Vivia, his beloved wife, and his little girls, Chiara and Amalia. The thought of never seeing them again broke his heart to pieces. The realization that he would die without holding them one last time brought tears to his eyes. He recalled briefly the last conversation he had with Vivia, to keep the girls safe and leave Venice. He begged her to leave and never return. To hide somewhere Giotto would never find them. He did not know where they would go, he asked
Eighteen Years LaterSomewhere in Basilicata I take a deep breath through my nose. There's nothing like spring. The scent of flowers is in the air and I can't get enough of it. Mother loves flowers, so I grew up knowing how to care for them and loving them with all my heart."Chiara, get in here!" I hear her say. "It's time for the soap opera."I drop the watering can and I wipe my hands on my apron. Amalia is already seated on the couch popping olives in her mouth and Mother takes a seat next to her. She turns to me. "Tonight's the grand finale. We'll find out if Carlo and Flora will marry.""Of course they will," I roll my eyes. "The protagonists always end up together." Lia throws an olive at me. Lia. I’ve always called her that. "Don't ruin it for us. Just because you don't believe in love, it doesn't mean we don't.""Amalia, don't talk that way to your sister,” Mother warns. Lia and I always bicker. It's inevitable. We just have different views on everything. She rolls her eyes