𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚

Chapter 47

I sat there for what felt like hours. Trying to process everything going through my mind. I was going to kill someone.

Just even thinking about the next 2 days was going to be exhausting. Did I even want to do this? Diavolo deserved to die, there was no doubt about that. But did I want to be the one to end his life? Was it worth risking my life? My soul? Would I end up in hell?

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Gia! Dinners ready!" I hear Beatrice call through the door. I take a deep breath before answering.

"Alright, I'll be down in a minute!" I say, standing up. I hadn't realized how long I had been sitting there. I go into the bathroom, to freshen up. My face looked oddly pale, like I was ill.

When I thought about it, I did feel a little sick. The more I thought about the plot, the more my stomach churned. I took a small towel and ran it under some warm water from the sink. I pressed it against my face, trying to bring the color back to my cheeks.

I took another deep breath, before leaving the room. I walk downstairs and into the kitchen, where I find Beatrice. She's stirring something in the pan, and it smells divine.

She looks up at me, and smiles.

"Gia, Cristiano's waiting in the dining room. Dinner will be ready shortly." She says, nodding towards the door to the dining room.

I do my best to try and hide my nervousness. I nod back at her, and walk into the dining room. Cristiano was sitting at the end of the table, drinking what I assumed to be some kind of Brandy out of a glass.

I walked over to the other end of the table, and sat down. I could feel him staring at me, and it made me even more nervous than I already was. Beatrice brings us two plates, then quickly leaves.

We both sit in awkward silence. Cristiano ate eagerly. I couldn't bring myself to even touch my plate. As good as Beatrice's cooking was, I felt so nauseous.

"You're not eating." He says suddenly. I look up from my plate and at him. I need to think of something to say, or he might start to become suspicious.

"I'm just not very hungry." I say, looking back down at my plate.

"Are you sick?" He asks, getting up from his chair. He walks over to me and gently feels my forehead, probably to see if I was running a fever.

"I don't think so, maybe I'm just a little under the weather." I say, staring up at him nervously. My hands were shaking under the table. My inner voice was screaming at me. He's going to find out. You're going to get caught.

"You just seem a little off." He says, moving his hand away from my face. I froze. I could feel a wave of anxiety form over me, like a dark cloud. He looked down at me, as if he was analyzing, trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

Say something Gia. Anything.

"Did you realize it's Christmas Eve tomorrow?" I ask, feigning a smile, and taking his hand in mine. I see the concern leave his face, and he almost looks relieved. He pulls out a chair and sits down next to me.

"Of course I did." He says. I looked back at him confused.

"Really? I hadn't even realized until earlier today. There aren't any decorations or lights up. We don't even have a Christmas tree." I say, trying desperately to steer the conversation away from how nervous I looked.

Cristiano's calm demeanor quickly faded into one of disturbance. As if he was remembering something he really didn't want to remember. We sat in silence for a few moments before he eventually spoke again.