Page 26 of Queen of Hearts (City of Sinners 2)
A sad bend appears on Louis’s lips. “Miss Falynn, how are you holding up?”
It’s a question with a known answer.
When I don’t say anything, he steps deeper into the room, glancing around at the mess. I haven’t allowed housekeeping in either.
“I’ve come to say goodbye.”
The fog I’m steeped in evaporates enough for me to register what he’s saying. My eyes dart over to him, though I don’t move from where I am curled up in bed.
“Don’t go…” It’s a quiet, pathetic plea, but I don’t have the energy for anything else.
“I don’t have a choice,” he says. He scratches his head and looks down at the ground, like he’s at a cemetery paying respects. I imagine he looked the same way at Gio’s funeral; I couldn’t bring myself to attend, so I don’t know for sure. “I’ve been reassigned,” he continues. “I suspected I’d be…but just received the order from Giancarlo. I’m headed back east. I’ll be working under a differentcapoin the family.”
Of course the one guy on Gio’s crew I consider an ally would be resigned. As if I couldn’t already be alone enough.
My body protests with more aches as I push myself up into a sitting position. “Take me with you. Please, Lou. I don’t want to stay here with…him.”
“Miss Falynn, I’d sneak you out if I could. But they’d find out and you don’t wanna know what would happen then. It’d be both our heads. Giovanni wouldn’t hurt you because he cared about you, but Giancarlo…he’s not the stablest guy.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
A heavy breath puffs out of Louis. For being such a big guy, he’s a teddy bear deep down. At least when he’s not bashing faces in as an enforcer. “I’ll try and talk to him. See if he’ll let you go. Maybe you can return to the Dollhouse.”
“What does he want with me?”
I’ve avoided thinking about it. Exhaustion’s been too crippling. The grief hasn’t let my mind rest on anything but Gio in my few waking hours. I haven’t even considered that Giancarlo would refuse to let me go.
Why would he want to keep me?
I want nothing to do with him.
Contrary to what anyone says, he murdered Gio. Deep in my soul, I believe he’s responsible. He couldn’t stand their father naming Gio as his successor, so he exacted revenge on his own brother. I have no proof other than my intuition, but she’s rarely been wrong before.
All this time Gio thought it was the Lovatos seeking revenge for Tony when it was his blood out to destroy him.
“Miss Falynn, you have to be careful around him,” Louis warns. He glances over his shoulder out of paranoia and then lowers his voice. “Between me and you, I’ve heard Don Sorrentino speak of his sons once when I was guarding his office. This was a couple years ago, but the Don’s always seen Giovanni as his successor. He just wanted to make him work for it and earn it before he came out and said it.
“But Giancarlo…he’s always been kinda disturbed. Not sure to what extent Gio even knew. The Don’s protected Giancarlo. He didn’t want news to get out about his condition. He’s always been worried he’d have another episode. Be on your best behavior around him. Be polite. Be respectful. Stay out of his way if you can. I’ll see what I can do.”
Louis plods over, stopping beside the bed. The emotions I’ve bottled up and kept to myself explode all at once. I throw my arms around his large frame and burst into tears. Being the dutiful teddy bear he is, Louis lets me cry on him. His catcher’s mitt hands pat me as gently as he can manage on the back before he peels me off.
“Promise me you won’t do anything dumb,” he says, concern etched on his face. “Just keep to yourself. Stay here and behave. He might let you go if he sees no use for you.”
Or kill me.
I give a hesitant nod. Louis squeezes my shoulder in brotherly fashion and then says goodbye. As he heads out, it feels like the end of another chapter. He’s helped keep me sane over the last four months, especially when I was first held captive by Gio, and now he’s gone too.
I really am all alone.
The bed begins to feel like its own form of captivity. I force myself to get up and take a hot shower. If I’m honest, I can’t remember the last time I’ve bothered to make myself presentable. I tried for the funeral, but wound up hiding out, sobbing in a closet.
The water scalds my skin, but I only step further under the shower head. The burn feels good. Finally something powerful enough to jolt me out of my never-ending stupor. My golden-brown skin tinges slightly red the more the steaming hot water burns me. I stand there and let it until eventually it runs cold and a numbness replaces the heat.
Clouds of steam quickly fade as I slip into a robe and smooth my wet hair back. It’s as I’m moving to the mirror I hear it—the click of a lock. Someone’s unlocking the penthouse door. I stay still and strain my ears, waiting for another sound.
The door opens and footsteps follow. Different footsteps than Louis’s. His were hesitant and heavy. These belong to someone else; these are firm and fluid, the movements of someone who doesn’t care who knows he’s here.
Giancarlo.