Of volume lineage

XXI

Isabella

The clock on the wall said only seventeen minutes had passed but I felt like it had been hundreds of years. I could picture my hair graying and skin wrinkling, but a quick glance down at my hands, revealed the skin remained taunt and soft. Clearly, the stress of the situation was encouraging my imagination.

Boss hadn’t picked up the phone again, instead piling all the money from the vaults in a pile beside the door, ready for the getaway. When the cops made it clear they weren’t going to let them go, they shot two more hostages. The bank manager had passed out three minutes ago, his limp floor laying in front of the doors.

Blood from Daniele’s wound had spread, and I tucked my feet further under me to avoid it. Marzia remained a shivering mess in my arms, her face buried into my chest. I held a hand to the back of her head, gentle and comforting, but to stop her from turning around and seeing the destruction that was happening all around us.

“They’re not letting us go,” hissed the youngest robber. “I spotted the SWAT Team. They’re getting ready to come in and kill us.”

“They won’t risk anymore civilians,” snapped Boss. His eyes roamed over the crouching patrons, choosing his neck victim. They landed on me.

Boss regarded me for a moment, eyed the child in my eyes, then lunged forward.

“No!” I shrieked furiously, scratching him with my nails. “Stay the fuck away from me–!”

“Oh, you bitch! She cut me with her nail!” I had split the skin over his eye.

I bared my teeth. “They’re acrylics.”

Boss’s eyes widened before narrowing in rage. He grabbed my arm, wrenching me forward. Marzia let out a sob, clinging to me, but I shoved her back.

“Let go of me, you useless excuse for a criminal–!”

His arm swung across my face. Pain immediately rattled my brain and teeth, and I took a few unsteady steps as I tried to get my footing back. Boss didn’t let me. He shoved me to the ground, his boot pressing down on my arm.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring down the barrel of a gun.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die and Marzia will be left alone. Who will protect her?

“Hey, what the fuck is that?”

Boss turned and he growled. I followed his gaze. Smoke was filling the back of the bank, floating gently towards us like white clouds.

I knew deep in my soul that it didn’t come from the SWAT Team.

I let out a raspy laugh.

Boss stabbed his gun in my direction again, the metal kissing my forehead. “Why are you laughing?”

I met his eyes, letting my lips curve into a smile. “My husband’s here.”

Confusion danced over his face.

A gunshot sounded and Newbie dropped. Shouts rang out around the room, and Boss turned, gun pointed at the fog. Another gunshot sounded and another robber dropped like a sack of potatoes.

I scrambled to my feet and towards Marzia. She stared at me with wide red eyes but didn’t resist when I pulled her into my arms.

The smoke moved, and a dark shadow grew closer and closer. I knew who it was immediately. Even if I had been blind, I would’ve known who had stepped into the bank.

My husband’s face was hard as stone. There was no relief or fury, no burning gaze or furrowed forehead.

It made him all the more terrifying.

Boss spun around, jabbing the gun at Marzia and I. I froze, arms tightening.

“Let me take my money,” Boss hissed, “or I kill them.”

“Do you know who I am?” Giova

The robber’s hand tremored ever so slightly. He glanced at my husband then at Marzia and I. “No.”

“Shame. Perhaps you’ve made a better decision.”

Boss jabbed the gun at us again. “I swear to God, I’ll shoot ‘em. I don’t care–”

The front doors to the bank burst open and dozens of SWAT members streamed in. Boss turned, distracted, and I darted towards Giova

Marzia clung to me tightly, her tears soaking my coat. I smoothed down her hair. “We’re out, Marzia. You’re safe. Your dad is here. He’s taking us home.”

A dark car was parked at the back. Vincent and Giacomo helped us into the back seat, Vincent even pulling the seatbelt over Marzia and I. She refused to leave my arms, only lifting her head when her father pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

Giova

“You didn’t get the robbers?”

“I will.”

There was no room for argument in my husband’s tone. Giova

I wondered if he would let me help.

I sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a towel, and floating between the spaces of time. There was soft aches and bruises all over my body but none of it compared to the canyon of agony inside my heart.

For the first time in my anguish, I didn’t want to paint. I didn’t want to share these feelings with the world. All I wanted to do was stare and let the air dry my hair.

I had spent hours scrubbing my skin, trying to wash the memories of the day off. But the sound of the gunshot, the smell of Daniele’s blood remained in my head. There was not enough soap in the world to wash them away.

I had taken the clothes Marzia, and I had been wearing, and burnt them in the fireplace. Graziella, our housekeeper, had almost fainted at the sight of the charred fabrics and ash littering the floor, but wisely didn’t say anything. They had to be destroyed; it was the only comfort I could offer my stepdaughter.

Giova

I didn’t blame him. Marzia was meant to be at school. Instead, I had let her spend the day with me…and she had almost been killed. She was traumatized, hurt. She had lost a piece of her i

It was my fault.

I was begi

I had that same poisoned blood ru

Sadness filled my chest. I had wanted to be her mother; I had liked giving her more affection than Geltrude or Mother had ever given me. Maybe they had been right when it came to staying away from me. Maybe a distant Lombardi mother was better than a close Lombardi mother.

The bedroom door creaked open and I snapped my head up. Giova

“Is she okay?” I whispered.

Giova

Not an answer to my question but what I deserved.