Page 72 of Corrupted Memories
I check emails as we drive, hyperaware of every breath and swallow she takes. Every sniffle and every time her hand wipes her nose and eyes. I’m so tense by the time we park in the garage that my muscles ache with the need to stretch.
“Do you want me to carry you up?” I offer.
Her lips curl into a minuscule smile and she turns to face me in the seat. I take that to mean yes, and pull her into my arms before climbing out. Nico grabs our bags, following us into the elevator and watching Gianna with a cloud of regret and grief. He started this spiral, but it had been necessary. There are no more secrets between us, and we can move forward with clearer minds.
Nico opens the door for us and I carry her straight to the bathroom, setting her gently on her feet and starting the shower.
“I don’t…”
“Wash off the day, Gianna. It will help,” I tell her, helping her out of her clothes before guiding her under the warm spray.
I lean on the counter, watching her in the water as she pointedly avoids looking at me while I listen to her quiet sobs. She doesn’t protest when I wrap her in a towel when she’s done, drying off the water and ringing out her hair. Then I move her into the bedroom and hand over her lotion as I move to our bags and pull out a pajama set for her.
“Did you know who I was in college?” Her voice is low and rough, as if she’s barely able to talk over the lump in her throat.
I shake my head, sitting on the bed next to her as she lathers her body up. “No, Gianna. Though, years later I started to doubt the men I had killed were ever after you because of me, but perhaps because they knew who you were.”
She nods, her movements slow as she gets dressed and brushes out her hair. “I feel like my entire life is a lie, like I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”
“Does knowing your familial history change the past? You can feel betrayed and hurt, but it doesn’t change who you are, Gianna,” I say, tugging her into my arms and falling onto the mattress.
“Doesn’t it though? Were my parents my parents? Is my trust fund real, or is it an apology from a mob hit? Is my brother’s company legit or is it a front for the mafia? Is Gianna even my real name?” She turns onto her side, facing me. “My whole life has been a very fabricated lie,even Matt hiding me from you. Every single one of my memories is corrupted with lies to protect people who frankly don’t seem to give a damn about me.”
“I care?—”
“You won’t even say I love you! You’re just as dishonest as he is!” She pushes at my chest until I let go, rolling to her side and giving me her back. My hands clench before I reach over, rubbing at her shoulder.
“You promised to give me time to explain. Don’t diminish my feelings for you,” I say through a thick throat, the words hoarse.
Her body slumps a bit. “I need time to myself to think about all of this. Can you do that? I want to go to my old apartment for space.”
A decline is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down. “I’ll have it arranged for you.”
I stay in Manhattan while Gianna lives in her Jersey apartment. While I could have asked men in the Outfit to watch her, I agreed with Nico that private security would be more likely to go unnoticed by the Irish. I’m not sure how they’d take it now that I’ve been sworn in, they were already temperamental before.
Since everything blew up in the open, we decided to move forward with our plans, utilizing the time we’re in New York to serve as a cover when I call Luca and Rian to meet.
The door clicks open, and I glance up in surprise as Luca walks in, earlier than we had agreed.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” I purr.
He rolls his eyes, moving to sit on the couch, his ankle resting on his knee as we watch each other.
“Heard you took the oath.”
I smirk. “Sure.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Is that untrue?”
“No, no…” I crack my neck, leaning into my chair. “What do you want?”
He seems surprised by my sharp tone. “You didn’t mention it last time.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I say bluntly.
He nods, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I thought we had reached a point of cordial respect.”
My lips quirk. He’s so uptight and prissy it’s almost comical. “I imagine you can understand why I may not want to advertise that particular change.”
