I smooth down my sweater for the tenth time. Bruno arranged everything within minutes of my request. One phone call to Valentino, and suddenly my sister was being picked up from our family home and driven here. No questions, no negotiations. Just done.
The gates at the end of the driveway begin to open.
My breath catches. A black SUV rolls through. I press my palm against the cool glass of the window, watching the car approach. It moves slowly up the curved drive, past the manicured hedges and the fountain that never stops running.
The SUV pulls to a stop in front of the main entrance.
I'm already moving toward the door before the engine cuts off. My hand finds the handle, and I pull it open, stepping out onto the stone steps. All I can see is the passenger door opening.
Gianna emerges.
She looks smaller than I remember. Her dark hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she's wearing the oversized cardigan I gave her last Christmas. The one with the hole in the left sleeve that she refused to let me mend because she said it gave it character.
Her eyes find mine immediately.
"Nella!"
She runs. Her sneakers slap against the stone driveway, and then she's crashing into me, her arms wrapping around my waist so tight I can barely breathe.
The driver's door opens.
Valentino steps out, his tall frame unfolding from behind the wheel. He's dressed in his usual dark suit, his expression unreadable as he looks at me. Then his gaze shifts to Gianna, still clinging to me like I might disappear if she lets go.
Something flickers across his face. I can't name it. His jaw tightens, and he looks away, toward the house.
Without a word, he walks past us and through the front door. His footsteps echo in the entrance hall, then fade as he disappears deeper into the compound.
I don't have time to wonder about Valentino's strange behavior. Gianna is crying into my shoulder, her whole body shaking with sobs she's clearly been holding back for days.
"Hey." I stroke her hair, the familiar gesture coming back like muscle memory. "Hey, I'm here. I've got you."
"I thought—" She hiccups, pulling back just enough to look at my face. Her eyes are red-rimmed, mascara smudged beneath them.
"Breathe." I cup her face in my hands, wiping tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. "Just breathe, okay? I'm fine. I'm right here."
She nods, but more tears spill over. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too." The words come out thick. I pull her back into my arms, holding her the way I used to when she was little and had nightmares. "I'm sorry I didn't call more. Things have been... complicated."
"Complicated how?" She sniffles against my shoulder. "Is your husband mean to you? Because Claudio said he'd kill anyone who hurt you, and I know he's not exactly scary, but I'd help him hide the body?—"
A laugh escapes me. It sounds strange, almost foreign. "Bruno isn't mean to me."
"Then why do you sound weird when you say his name?"
"It's complicated," I say again.
Gianna pulls back, studying my face with the intensity only a younger sister can manage. "You look strange."
"Strange how?"
"I don't know." She tilts her head. "Less tired, maybe? But also more... something. I can't figure it out."
I take her hand and lead her toward the door. "Come inside. I'll show you your room, and then we can talk properly."
The entrance hall swallows us in cool air and marble silence. Gianna's eyes go wide as she takes in the chandelier, the sweeping staircase, the artwork on the walls that probably costs more than our childhood home.
"Holy shit," she whispers.