Of volume lineage

XVIII

 

Isabella

 

The soft glow of the cigarette butt was the only sign I was on the balcony. I had tucked myself behind a pot plant, crouching down so that my knees ached. There were two reasons I was using the cloak of night to have a secret smoke. One, I didn’t want Marzia to see. Two, I was avoiding Giova

I spent my days going over my mother’s words repeatedly until they were as familiar as the back of my own hand.

The fate of the Lombardis rides on your shoulders, darling.

I knew what my purpose was, why I was here…yet, as the hours ticked by, as I slept beside Giova

They are not your family, I whispered to myself in the dark. My brain knew this, but my heart seemed to have forgotten.

I put out the cigarette, rising back to my feet and rolling my neck. A warm breeze caught my hair, the strands dancing over my shoulders. Summer would be rolling in soon, bringing with it nearly 6 months since the Viglianos took over Manhattan.

Both Giova

Giova

Something happened to me beneath Giova

Knowing all this didn’t change how I felt.

I yearned for Giova

He had awoken something low in my gut and it was ravenous for him. I tried to feed the ache in the shower, but my nimble fingers were a poor substitute for Giova

I hated how much I wanted him. I hated that I wanted him so badly and he didn’t seem to want me at all.

I sighed deeply as I went to check in on Marzia, trying to put off going back to my cold marital bed. I expected to find my stepdaughter fast asleep but instead a soft glowing mountain of blankets greeted me. From the light of the torch, I could see the outline of her face.

“Aren’t you meant to be asleep?”

Marzia froze.

I pulled back the blanket, revealing my seven-year-old stepdaughter. She was dressed in her favorite green nightie and was giving me a sheepish smile. A book was open in her lap, and from the purple sticker, it was obvious Marzia had been robbing Mister Burrows of literature again out of protest.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” I tapped the book. “Does this belong to you?”

Marzia closed it gingerly. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

Her cheeks pinkened and she refused to meet my eyes.

I gently took the book and torch from her. “It’s too late for you to be awake. How will you learn lots if you’re sleeping during class?”

Marzia scowled but stretched out, letting me tuck the blanket around her. “I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I,” I admitted. “But I’m going to go and try. Can you try for me?”

She wiggled. “You can sleep with me.”

Something inside my soul splintered. How many times had I been afraid of the dark or the coat hanging in my closet that looked like a monster so much that I had begged my parents to sleep with me? I had wanted them to keep me safe, to assure me everything was okay.

They never did. The most comfort I ever got from Maria was a sharp, it’s all in your head, Isabella. Go to bed before I lock you in your room.

It’ll be different once all this is over, I comforted myself, letting the hope in my chest grow a little more.

I didn’t snap at Marzia or threaten to lock the door. My hands reached out and smoothed her restless curls. “I think I’m too big. You’ll wake up on the floor.”

“No.” Marzia wiggled over, giving me a slither of space. She batted her blue eyes. “Can you lay down with me?”

My mother’s voice was on repeat in the back of my mind. Go to bed before I lock you in your room, go to bed before I lock you in your room, go to bed before I lock you in your room.

I rested my hands on the bed, staring down at her. “Do you promise to try and go to sleep?”

She nodded eagerly.

I sighed, toeing off my slippers and crawling onto the bed beside her. I remained on top of the covers so I wouldn’t disturb her when I left. Marzia leaned her head against my shoulder, burrowing her cheek into the bone in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable, but she seemed happy enough.

“Happy now?” My feet hung off the side and I had to crane my neck to fit it beside hers on the pillow. If I slept in this position, I would wake up aching all over.

“Mmm.” Marzia’s eyes fluttered close, and she breathed deeply.

Minutes later, she was fast asleep. I stroked her hair for a few more moments before gently sliding out from the bed. She shifted but didn’t wake, and I tiptoed from the room. Guilt gnawed at my insides, but I shoved it down.

I needed to leave the Viglianos now. Mother hadn’t contacted me since the museum with any updates or looking for any new information. Giova

How much longer until all this was over?

How much more could I bare?

There was a person in Giova

I stopped. Surely, not. Maybe I was going crazy. I took three steps back. The door to his office was usually closed, so seeing it open raised alarm bells, but it was the slim and shadowy finger that rooted to me to the ground.

I almost called out Marzia’s name but stopped myself. The person was staring up at the painting I had gifted Giova

“Can I help you?” I asked politely.

They turned, revealing two gray eyes peering through the gap of a black ski mask. It was a woman from the looks of it, only young.

I strolled into the study, acting a lot more casual than I felt. “My husband won’t be pleased if he wakes up and a stranger is in his study. He barely tolerates my presence in here.”

“I won’t be here long.” Her voice was sweet and light. She was only young by the sounds of it.

“For your sake, I hope not.”

She pointed to the painting. “Did you paint this?”

“I did.”

“Have you ever considered art forgery? You would be very good at it.”

I swallowed my smile. “No, I haven’t. I’ll have a look into it.”

The girl nodded. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any artwork laying around, do you?”

“So, you’re a thief.”

“Tonight, I am.” Her eyes gleamed. “Tomorrow, who knows?”

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms loosely over my chest. “Well, if you want to see tomorrow, I suggest you leave now.”

The thief looked like she was smiling beneath her mask. With a quick, almost blinding movement, she swung herself up onto the window ledge. I opened my mouth but then she was gone, leaving nothing more than wind in her wake.