33. Gia

For the firsttime in what feels like forever, I wake up in a familiar bed.

With familiar surroundings. Familiar smells.

And a familiar shape lurking in the chair in the corner.

"Watching me sleep is pretty creepy, you know," I grunt at him.

Sal shifts. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Wasn't feeling bad," I mutter.

Except for the fact that I crashed, slept for around sixteen hours, woke for approximately five seconds to pee, then fell back asleep again.

It's been nearly a full day since we got back to New York.

So no, I'm not feeling well. Not by a long shot.

But I'm not quite ready to let Sal know that either.

I'm still recovering from the mad dash out of Brazil.

There was, of course, the whole situation with Marisol. Marisol, once we landed in New York, asked to be put on a plane to Florida.

Her kids were there.

Her dad wouldn't find her, she assured us, if she was with her mom in Fort Lauderdale.

I hadn't been a fan of the idea, but I also didn't want to say anything against her. I gave Marisol my number, then watched her head right back onto the plane.

"She doesn't want to see Dino," Elio had murmured.

I was inclined to agree.

From there, we went back to the house. Then, of course, the sleep.

Now, I'm here, in my room.

And Sal is just lurking.

"You sure you weren't feeling bad?"

"Can it," I mutter. "I'm fine now."

I curl around my stomach, ever so slightly, and Sal's eyes drift down to my abdomen.

"We haven't talked about this," he says softly.

I shut my eyes.

I don't have any other way to stem the tears that are pressing at the edges of my eyes.

We haven't talked about it because we didn't have a chance.

Because we didn't have any time alone yet.

Because I haven't told Elio, and I assume Sal hasn't either, and neither one of us is willing to tell him without talking about it first.

But we don't want to do that either.

"Sal…"

"Gia…"

I laugh softly. This is what it's like with us.

Always on the same page.

Never at the right time.

"I want the baby," I say.

The words echo in the room. I haven't said them out loud. It's a little late now, certainly, but I realize that I definitely want to keep this little kiddo.

Sal nods. "Okay."

"And I don't know what else I want," I say.

"Okay."

"Because I still want to have the whole thing. The organization. I want to be the boss. I want to live here. I want to live in Italy. I want to take a plane all over the world. I want to stay home. I want…" My voice trails off.

Sal's silence is looming.

"I don't know what I want," I say honestly.

The truth is, I want everything. But what I want more than anything in the world is to be…

Myself.

Whoever that is.

Maybe it changes. Maybe I am never just one thing.

But right now, the thing that I want is to be Gia Rossi, and I don't know how to do that anymore.

"Will you marry him?"

I look over. "Liam?"

Sal doesn't answer. His eyes, however, are drilling into mine with an intensity that's so powerful, I almost can't look back at him.

"I…"

I don't have an answer.

I can't.

I have to.

I can't.

I must.

My stomach tightens, and I put a hand on my abdomen.

Fuck.

Sal rises. He looks down at me.

There's something simmering in his gaze that looks a lot like a word somewhere close to wrath.

Rage.

Pain.

Torture.

I ache to have him look at me with the love that he once had.

But from the way he's looking at me now…

I think I might have ruined that entirely.

"You need to decide," Sal says roughly. "And Gia, I don't want to be left out of my kid's life. Even if you marry him. I want to be the father that… I want to be something to my child," he grunts.

God, the pain in his voice is absolutely killing me.

For the first time, I realize something.

Sal has been unwaveringly on my side.

He's been my biggest fan. My most devoted follower.

He's lifted me up every step of the way and I've never, ever, not once, doubted the fact that Sal cares about me.

But the way he's looking at me now…

Abruptly, Sal turns. He marches out the door, which slams shut behind him.

I shut my eyes.

I think I might have broken Sal De Luca. For good.

And I've never been really good at fixing anything.

Especially not when it comes to saying things like "I'm sorry' and ‘I was wrong.'

And, even most especially, ‘Please forgive me.'

* * *

When the door opens again,I'm not even facing it.

I'm turned to face the wall.

I couldn't bear it if Sal came back in. But I also wanted it to be him.

Either way, I am one hundred percent too scared to look over at the door.

"Gia?"

I know this voice too.

Reluctantly, I rolled over. "Liam," I murmur.

Liam sits in the chair that Sal had occupied… an hour ago? I couldn't keep track of time anymore.

Liam studies me. "How are you then?"

"Shitty," I answer honestly.

"Aye. You look it too."

"Thanks. Really nice words to say to your future wife."

Liam leans back. "Somehow, Gia darling, I feel that's no' going to happen."

I sit up. "Are you rejecting me?"

He shakes his head. "No. But I'm no' stupid. I can practically feel the tension between you and Sal. I'm not about to step into that. Not in a million years," he growls at me.

"Why does it matter?"

"What do you mean, why does it matter?"

I snort. "The type of relationship that we're going to have. Why does it matter if I am… hung up on someone else?"

Liam casts a meaningful glance down at my stomach.

"Okay well that aside, why does it matter?" I retort.

"It will always matter," he says softly. "And I…" he stops.

My eyes widen. "You were hoping that we… that you and I would…Oh. Liam," I say. I'm genuinely sad for him.

Liam really wanted us to be a thing. An actual thing. He wanted us to be in love. Someday.

His lips tilt slightly. "Well, a guy can dream, can't he?"

"Liam MacAntyre. Dreaming of falling in love. I think that's really sweet," I say.

"Aye well. I'd appreciate you keepin' that little observation to yourself," he says softly.

"If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."

"That, I can do."

We're quiet for a moment. Then, I look over.

"What will happen to the truce between our organizations?"

"I think we're in for a penny, in for a pound at this moment."

"Meaning?"

"Meanin', I'll be around. And you'll have a hard time stopping me. I think that makin' a mutual enemy of Benicio Souza is gonna be a little more than hell for all of us, so I'd say that we need to stick together, yeah?"

I grimace. "That's not exactly a good thing, is it?"

"Enemy of my enemy."

"Okay then."

He stands, ready to leave. Suddenly, something occurs to me.

"You still need to marry someone in order to inherit, right?"

"Aye."

"What about… Stassi Novikov?"

He shakes his head. "I think my brother already tried that, remember?"

"Sure. But Kieran was an unhinged sociopath. You… Stassi might be interested," I say.

Liam studies me for a moment. "Anastasia… comes with more than just a starter pack of problems."

"Yeah but—" I shrug. "Don't we all?"

Liam gives me a little, tight smile at that. "I would have liked to have been your husband, Gia Rossi."

"I would have made a terrible wife, if it's any consolation."

He nods. "I think that wife is not the role for you."

My doubts come back, swarming me like bees. "Um. Okay."

"Because Gia, there is no role that fits you. You are your own thing. A force of nature, an enigma. You are no one's wife. But I think that maybe someone will be worthy of being your consort. The moon has the sun. Darkness has light. Even forces of nature have a balance, Gia. I hope you find yours. I truly, truly do."

My mouth hangs open.

With those admittedly amazing words, Liam walks out.

Leaving me alone. Shocked. Processing his words. Trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

Again.

* * *

The third timethe door opens, it's Elio.

"Hello Gia," he says in Italian.

Oh boy. If Elio's speaking Italian, it means that he's too emotional to use English.

"Hi brother," I respond in Italian. I gesture to the bed, and he comes to sit next to me.

We're quiet for a minute.

"How are the babies?"

"Doing well," he murmurs. "Caterina is such a fantastic mother. Every day I am in awe of her."

Of course she is. The stark contrast between us pulses. Caterina is the perfect mother.

I'm not.

"That's good. Congratulations."

"You sound less than thrilled."

I look up at him. "Not at all, Elio. Really. I'm so happy for you. You have everything you wanted. You have Caterina. You have three beautiful children. Good for you, making all your dreams come true."

I shut my eyes, because even I can tell that comment was a little bitter.

My brother's arms wrap around me. I relax, sagging into his hug.

Elio is my best friend. He's the only person in the world, aside from Sal, that I trust.

I love him like he's a piece of my own heart.

So, when he hugs me, I can't hold the tears back anymore.

I start sobbing.

It takes forever, but when I'm done, Elio leans back. "Do you want me to have Sal killed?"

I blink. "What? No."

"Is he the source of your pain? I can have him killed. In an instant."

"First of all, that would make Caterina very upset," I say with my eyebrow raised.

Elio shrugs. "She would understand."

"Second, you lunatic, no. Even if Sal is the source of my pain… he's also the source of all my joy."

Elio tilts his head.

I let my hand drift to my stomach. "Don't freak out. And don't kill anyone."

"No promises."

"Okay, then no truths."

"Gia," he sighs.

"Fine. But seriously, no murders. Pinky swear." I hold up my hand, hoping the childish gesture pulls him out of his funk.

Elio groans but shakes my pinky. "Fine. Pinky swear, no murders."

"I'm pregnant."

A flood of curses in Italian and English pours out of Elio's mouth. He leaps up off the bed, roaming back and forth in the room.

He spins. "I'll fucking kill that Irish shit."

"You said no murders."

"I'll…"

"Elio!" I shout.

He pauses.

"It wasn't Liam," I say softly.

It takes Elio a solid ten seconds to understand. His eyes go wide, then narrow.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Sal?"

I nod.

The Italian curses are back. This time, they're mostly directed at the people in the Rossi and De Luca families, and our inability to use reliable birth control.

Finally, he seems to remember that I'm there, and that I told him I'm pregnant.

Elio comes over to me. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine. For real."

"And Sal…"

"He knows. He's fine with whatever I choose."

Elio snorts. "He better be."

"I'm having the baby."

His eyes go soft. "Gia…"

"But Elio, I don't want to be limited to one thing. I want to have the baby. I want to run the Rossi gang with you. I want to be able to fight and flirt and fuck?—"

He cringes at that, which I do find hilarious, "And do whatever I need in order to make myself happy."

"You want to run the organization."

I freeze.

I've never actually told him that before.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

There's genuine relief in his voice.

My mouth opens. It shuts. It opens again. "That's it, just why?"

"Yes. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

I blink. "Um. Because I thought you'd laugh at me like Dad did?"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. No, Gia," he sits, with relief crossing his face. "I want you to be my equal. We can divide it. We can each take a section. We can do whatever it takes. I'm so fucking tired of doing this alone. I want to spend time with Caterina and the children. I want to be able to fucking relax sometimes."

"Oh," I whisper. "I thought you only wanted to do that when the babies were born."

He shakes his head. "No. If you are offering help, I want it. Two siblings. Together. That sounds remarkably wonderful, don't you think?"

"Well. Yeah…"

Elio swoops in and hugs me. "Done, sister dearest."

Well.

That was easier than I thought.

When the hug is done, Elio looks at me. "So. Are you marrying the Irish?"

"I don't think he'll have me," I sigh.

"Good. I'd rather not have him for a brother-in-law anyway."

I roll my eyes. "As if you get a say."

"Of course I don't, Gia. And I know better than to tell you what to do. But whatever you choose, I love you. And I will love my niece or nephew as much as I love you," he grins.

I shrug. "Thanks, brother."

With that, Elio leaves.

Sitting on the bed, I smile.

I guess that some things were a little easier than I thought.