I take out my phone and dial. It rings once, twice.
"What do you need, Mr. Costello?" Bernard, my butler's, voice comes through.
"I need room five on the 12th floor cleaned and ready in the next five minutes," I say. "We will have a guest staying there. Make sure it has everything she will need."
I end the call without waiting for a response. I take the elevator, barely noticing the soft jazz playing. It can't drown out the noise in my head. Gianna has taken permanent residence there.
After everything that happened at the chapel. After she gave herself to me. After she whispered that she was mine. And now she is here, standing in my home like a wounded animal seeking shelter, but still keeping me at arm's length.
I had thought after that night we had an understanding. I had thought I knew where we stood. Apparently, I was wrong.
The elevator door slides open, and I step out, undoing the top few buttons of my shirt before rolling up my sleeves. I walk down the hall and stop outside my waiting room, watching as Gianna paces.
I remain for a minute, watching her, and that night and every other moment we have shared flash across my mind. The way she runs hot then cold. The way she lets me in, then pushes me away.
I feel something for Gianna. Something I don't quite understand. I can't possibly be in love with her.
I shake my head. That isn't it. But what I do know is I never want to let her out of my sight.
I signal Alex to leave, and he nods and heads to the elevator. As I step into the waiting room, Gianna stops pacing.
"Finn," she says, and I don't realize how much I have missed her voice — and this only makes me angrier.
"Follow me," I say, and she hesitates. I run my fingers through my hair, still struggling to hold my temper.
"Where are we going?" she asks, but I close the space between us and grab her hand.
"Follow me."
"Let go!" She shouts, wriggling her wrist in my grip. I set her hand free and throw her over my shoulder instead.
"What are you doing? Put me down!" She struggles against my shoulder, but I say nothing as I carry her out of the room and into the elevator. She keeps squirming as I press the elevator button to the 12th floor. "Drop me, Finn. Let go of me. What are you doing?" She keeps repeating those words as I collect the key card to her room from the guard and open the door.
"Let go!" she yells again as I close the door behind us before gently dropping her. She swipes her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears, her face flushed with anger and her breathing heavy.
"Are you out of your mind?" she yells, running her finger through her hair to fix its unruliness.
I scoff, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Out of my mind? Gianna, you slept with me. You told me you were mine. And then you show up here acting like I'm supposed to just accept whatever version of yourself you're willing to give me today."
Gianna's chest rises and falls as she gazes into my eyes, but the moment doesn't last. "I had to," she looks away, walking further into the room.
"You always have a reason to push me away. There's always a fucking reason. What was it this time, Gianna?" I ask, not knowing why I am this worked up over her.
"I couldn't risk Vito finding out! He was already suspicious. I had to be careful. I didn't want him to think I had betrayed him."
I scoff, finding her unbelievable. "That's it. That's your excuse. God, Gianna. There's always something. Even in college, you'd let me get close then disappear for weeks. You don't care about anybody but yourself."
"What about you, Finn? This is our lives. This has always been who we are. We are complicated — everything about us is. No matter how we try to lie to ourselves, we can't escape the truth."
"Fuck, Gianna. You just always have the answers, don't you? You talk about how you want to be free. How escaping your family is all you want, but do you know what I think? I think you're lying to yourself."
"Stop, Finn."
"I think you're scared. I think you like the fucking comfort your family name brings you. I think you're a coward, Gianna. You say you want freedom, but you won't fight for it. You won't fight for us."
"Stop. Just stop, Finn. Stop this act." Hurt flashes across her face, and I regret what I've said.
"Stop acting like we mean something when you keep proving we don't! You run when things get hard. You always have."
