I’m almost out of time to save her from a marriage that will destroy her, to make her see that she deserves better. I have as little as a few months to?—
My phone buzzes with a text from Giulia, startling me again.Dinner tonight? I’m free. I feel like I haven’t seen you lately.
I stare at the message. I’ve barely seen my sister lately. And I've been avoiding her calls because I know she'll see rightthrough me. Giulia has always been able to read me better than anyone. But I can't avoid her forever.
Romeo:Sure. Where?
Giulia:That place in Little Italy. 7 p.m.
Romeo:I'll be there.
—
Giulia is alreadyat the restaurant when I arrive, sitting at a corner table with a glass of wine. She’s not twenty-one yet, but the owners are family friends, so she gets to do what she wants. It’s hard for anyone to tell her no, anyway—she’s young and beautiful, with the classic Ciresa charm, and the knowledge of how to turn it on when she needs to. She’s as bad as I am in that respect. I wonder, sometimes, if she’s as perfect and innocent a daughter as my father believes she is.
She looks happy, relaxed, and smiling, her dark hair up in a high ponytail. She’s wearing a black collared polo dress and sneakers, with a denim jacket next to her for the cold. She stands when she sees me, and I pull her into a hug.
"You look terrible," she says cheerfully.
"Nice to see you too.”
"I'm serious. When's the last time you slept? You have circles under your eyes."
"I've been busy,” I say dryly, motioning to the waiter who peeks out from the back when he hears us talking. There’s no one else in the restaurant—possibly by Giulia’s design. If she wanted the restaurant empty, she could have it. No one in this part of town, especially, would tell a Ciresano.
"With what? Your mysterious archaeology class?" She sits back down, studying me with sharp eyes. "Luca said you've been obsessed with some project."
"Luca talks too much."
"Luca is worried about you. So am I."
I frown. “What are you doing talking to Luca, anyway?” The waiter comes, and I order a scotch. Giulia raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. Nor does she answer my first question. Instead, she jumps straight into interrogation.
"So," she says when we're alone again. "Tell me about her."
I should have known I couldn't hide it from her. "There's nothing to tell."
"Romeo. I've known you for my whole life. I’m your sister. I know when you're lying." She leans forward. "And I know when you're in trouble. So tell me. Who is she?"
I take a long drink of my scotch. If I’m going to tell anyone other than Luca, it might as well be my sister. I know she won’t snitch to our father, either. "Her name is Savannah. She's in my archaeology seminar." I don’t say the last name. I doubt Giulia would know it, but it’s better to leave that part out, for now at least.
Giulia nods as if everything makes sense now. "And?"
"And she's brilliant. Beautiful. Everything I've ever—" I stop, not sure how to finish that sentence.
"Everything you've ever what?" Her dark eyes narrow.
"Wanted," I say finally. "Everything I've ever wanted."
Giulia is quiet for a moment. "But?"
"But she's engaged. To someone else. Someone her family chose for her."
"And you're trying to break them up."
"It's not like that," I protest sharply, feeling the same defensiveness I felt with Luca earlier. "He's not good for her. He's controlling, manipulative. He has a history of violence against women. She's not safe with him."
Giulia raises an eyebrow. "So you're protecting her."
