Chapter thirty
Ginni
Ican’t sleep. Every nerve in my body is crackling with electricity, my thoughts racing so fast I can barely catch them before they slip away into something else, something worse.
I slipped out of my marriage bed hours ago, leaving my husband sleeping peacefully. It was the right thing to do, but the spare room feels so empty, so lonely. There is nothing and no one to stop my thoughts from spiraling.
A Romeo and Juliet ending would be so artistically beautiful, but it would be a tragedy. And Carlo deserves better. He is worthy of a long and happy life. And he had such faith in me that I could find another solution.
He’s right, there has to be a better way. I just need to think harder. Faster. Better. All while time is running out.
My hands are shaking as I fold and refold the same silk shirt for the fourth time, trying to make everything perfect, trying to control something in a world that’s about to explode around us.
Today. They’re coming home today.
The words keep echoing in my head like a death knell, each repetition making my chest tighter and my breathing more shallow. In just a few hours, Mama and Papa will walk through that door upstairs, probably tired from their flight, expecting to find their problematic youngest son exactly where they left him. Hidden away in his basement like a shameful secret, causing no trouble, making no waves.
Instead, they’re going to find Carlo.
Handsome, perfect Carlo, chained to my bed like some kind of kinky prize. The evidence of everything I am, everything I’ve done, everything they’ve always suspected about their fundamentally wrong son finally laid bare for them to see.
“Focus, Ginni,” I whisper to myself, pressing my palms against my temples. “Think. Plan. There has to be a better solution.”
But every solution I can think of is impossible. I can’t hide Carlo. I can’t explain him away. I can’t pretend this never happened. In a matter of hours, my perfect fantasy world is going to collide with reality, and the impact is going to destroy everything I’ve built.
I move to the dresser and start arranging my jewelry box with obsessive precision, each piece placed exactly where it belongs. Order. Control. If I can just make everything perfect enough, maybe somehow...
But who am I kidding? There’s no making this perfect. There’s no explaining this away. When Papa sees Carlo here, when he understands what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, the scandal I’ve brought to the family name...
A sob escapes my throat before I can stop it. I’ve seen Papa angry before. The cold fury that turns his voice to ice and makes grown men tremble. But this... this is going to be beyond anger. This is going to be the final proof that Giovanni Torrini is beyond redemption, beyond help, beyond love.
They’ll send me away again. Somewhere worse this time, somewhere more secure. Somewhere I can never escape from, never cause another moment’s embarrassment to the precious family reputation. And Carlo...
My handsome Carlo will be taken from me forever.
The thought makes me double over with actual physical pain, like someone’s reached into my chest and torn something vital away. How can I live without him? How can I go back to being alone after I’ve tasted what it feels like to be loved, to be wanted, to be someone’s everything?
I can’t. I literally cannot survive being separated from him again.
I sink down onto the floor beside the dresser, wrapping my arms around my knees and rocking slightly. Think, Ginni. Think. There has to be another way.
Maybe we could run. Just disappear before they get home. I have money, jewelry I could sell, enough to get us somewhere far away where no one knows who we are. We could start over, build a new life together somewhere safe.
But even as the thought forms, I know it’s impossible. Carlo is chained to my bed. He’s not going anywhere willingly. He thinks he doesn’t love me, that we are not destined to be together. But I know the truth, and he is so close to accepting it. So very close. If only we had a little more time together, then everything would be perfect.
But time is one thing we don’t have. Time is something I can’t control. Just like I can’t control Carlo’s state of mind. I can give him every opportunity to realize he loves me, but the final step can only be taken by him, when he is ready.
And he is not ready yet. He’s not going to agree to run off into the sunset with me.
And even if I could convince him somehow, even if I could make him understand, where would we go? How long beforesomeone found us? How long before my family’s reach caught up with us?
But… maybe. The world is a large place, and Carlo is a rich and powerful man with connections. My money could get us there, and then he could access his funds.
My laptop is across the room, and suddenly I’m scrambling toward it on hands and knees, desperate with new purpose. There has to be something. Some country, some remote island where we could hide, some way to disappear completely and never be found.
I pull up travel sites with trembling fingers, searching for the most remote, most isolated places on earth. The Faroe Islands. The Kerguelen Islands. Antarctica. Places where no one would think to look, where we could live simply and love each other without interference from families who don’t understand.
I search and search. Hands flying over the keyboard and touchpad until a low battery warning pops up on the screen. The red flashes at me, and zaps reality into my brain. A laser beam of unrelenting truth.
