“You still sure about the tattoo?” Amo asked, motioning in the general direction of my back.
I tensed like I always did when I was reminded of the ugly words tattooed on my back.
Vitiello Whore.
“Yes. I won’t spend months trying to remove it only for scars to remain. People would know what those scars meant and that what happened bothered me enough to want to erase it completely from my body. That would look weak. I’ll keep the words but cover them with my truth.”
Amo nodded. “Maybe I’ll get another tattoo as well.”
I scoffed. “Good luck convincing Mom. You wouldn’t even have your first tattoo if you didn’t need it for the Famiglia.”
“Dad would talk to her.”
I rolled my eyes. A soft knock sounded.
“Yeah,” Amo answered.
Mom poked her head in, her expression worried but clearing up when she spotted me. “There you are, Marci. I went to your room first.”
I rarely spent time in my room. Amo hadn’t complained about my presence yet. If it really didn’t bother him or if his protectiveness came through, I wasn’t sure.
“What do you need?” I asked, giving Mom a firm smile. She still worried about me, especially since Maddox’s disappearance. Secretly, she was probably as relieved about his leaving as Dad, but she’d never say it.
“Giovanni is here.”
My mouth fell open, completely taken aback. “He didn’t call?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Mom said. She glanced at Amo.
He gave a one shoulder shrug. “I don’t have his number or he mine. We’re not that close.”
I swallowed down anger. “Dad. I doubt Giovanni would dare to come by without asking for permission first.”
Mom gave me a placating smile. “Your father worries about you as much as I do. Maybe he thought it would do you good to see him.”
I paced the room. “How will it do me good to see my ex-boyfriend only hours after Maddox left?”
“Old flames burn longer, right?” Amo muttered.
I would have hurled another book at him, and not missed this time, if Mom hadn’t been present.
“Will you see him, or should I send him away?” Mom asked. “He’s down in the foyer.”
I couldn’t believe Giovanni was here. Of all the people I didn’t want to see right now, he was at the top. “Send him away. I can’t deal with him right now.”
Mom nodded and turned.
Maddox was probably already getting cozy with one of his pass-arounds right this moment, having her give him a blowie. The idea made me sick and furious at once. I didn’t regret what had happened between us, I’d enjoyed it too much, but I wished I hadn’t gotten emotionally involved.
“Wait!” I shouted, stumbling after Mom.
She turned with raised eyebrows.
“I’ll talk to him,” I said quickly. “It would be rude to send him away when he came all the way here.”
“That’s true,” Mom said. “Be open minded.”
She meant maybe I’d reconsider Giovanni. My first instinct was to say no, because breaking up with Giovanni had felt liberating. I couldn’t see how getting back together with him could make me feel better. Returning to an ex-boyfriend only because one couldn’t be alone or to soothe a broken heart was the worst option.
“Should I tell him you need to get ready?”
I glanced down at myself. I was in gym leggings and a sweater, clothes I’d only ever worn in public on my way to or from the gym. Still, I shook my head. “I don’t feel like dressing up.”
Giovanni could see the real me, the no-makeup, sweater girl. It was only one tiny part of me, but it was one he’d never met. Only perfect Marcella. I followed Mom downstairs. Like she had said, Giovanni waited in the foyer, regarding an old family photo with mild curiosity. He must have seen it a hundred times already. He turned to me when I was on the last step, his eyes taking in my outfit. Surprise flitted across his face but he quickly masked it with a warm smile.
To my surprise, I was no longer angry at Giovanni for his words about me being ruined if I broke up with him. The kidnapping put everything into perspective. He’d been hurt and shocked, so he’d lashed out in the only way he could.
I gave Mom a nod, indicating to her that she could leave. She slipped into the living room and closed the door.
Silence spread between Giovanni and me. He was, as usual, immaculately dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks plus Budapesters. The outfit didn’t do anything for me anymore. Maddox had turned me into a leather jacket, biker boots, and jeans lover, which made me even angrier, considering nobody in our circles dressed like that.
“Marci,” Giovanni said gently, tearing me from my thoughts.
I forced a smile and took the last step down but didn’t go closer to him. “Giovanni, you look good.”