Untangle Me

Chapter 10

Giada

I've been back in my cell for what feels like hours, simply staring numbly at a single sheet of paper. Proof of what Vince said in his office. Proof that I can't have children.

My name isn't on it but a date is. The record says I've known for over a year. Over a year and here I am, feeling the loss of it all over again. It's pathetic and stupid but I can't seem to stop these tears from dripping down my chin or my heart from tearing slowly.

Seriously though, what kind of person forgets something like that? What is wrong with me? I am so sick of not knowing myself.

I haven't wasted much time trying to figure out how Vincenzo has this file. Frankly, I'm too tired to think about all the things I'll never get answers to

Why am I a prisoner? Who cares?

Why did this man kill my father? I don't give a flying shit.

Will I ever get all my memories back? Whatever.

I'm too tired for this. Call me weak-spirited but that's just me, I guess.

There's a soft rap on my door before someone enters my cell. A guard, great. He's not carrying any food with him and the way he checks if the door is closed behind him twice makes me feel like he shouldn't be here.

Fantastic, this is the part where I'm put out of my misery.

When the man turns to me, I finally recognize him as Luciano Dante, the first person I was introduced to in this hellhole. He grins sheepishly but his expression falls as he takes him my tear-streaked face.

He takes several steps towards me, staring intently all the while. It's making my heart race in a whole new bad way. I crawl backward when Luciano gets to his knees in front of me and thankfully, that stops him from advancing any further.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says, eyebrows drawn together as if he was trying to understand how I could think such a thing. "I just thought you might like this," he adds, pulling something from his pant pocket.

It's a small thing and I can barely make it out with his fingers in the way. My curiosity gets the best of me and I tentatively get closer to the guard. He doesn't move, not even when realization dawns on me and I gape at him.

"You got me a postage stamp?" I ask looking back at the unique sticker. It must be old, long since invalid but the condition it's in is great. "Where did you get it?"

I know what you might think, she collects postage stamps? How basic.

Think that all you want. Truth is, my mother used to collect them back in Italy and she left me all the ones she had. That way, it just made sense for me to keep up the tradition.

My question is how Luciano knows it.

"Yeah, I heard you weren't feeling well and remembered reading something about this in your file. Do you like it?" he asks, handing it to me.

I look down at the sticker, then back at him. I must look stupid but I just don't understand. Nothing makes sense. Not a single thing since I've arrived here.

"Yeah," I clear my throat. "Thanks."

"No big deal. If you ask me, Enzo is a massive jerk," he says, then winces and looks around the room as if the boss just somehow had appeared to punish him for the disrespect. "Don't tell anyone I said that," he adds with a soft laugh.

I nod slowly. Then ask, "You speak Italian?"

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"You pronounced his name correctly. He told me most of his men couldn't do it," I say slowly. Somehow, at the mention of his boss, Luciano's features darken. I guess he isn't much more fond of him than I am.

"Of course, he did. But yeah, I speak it fluently. I and my siblings were raised by our grandma, you see. She moved here when she was a child but insisted on teaching us her native language and culture," he tells me, his expression smoothing over as he gets lost in some memories. It's actually kind of cute. The first pleasant conversation I've had in a long time.

"Tell me about your siblings," I find myself asking, relaxing as the time drags on.

It's silly and reckless to let my guard down so easily but there's something about the man in front of me that makes me want to trust him. Maybe it's the gentleness he treats me with, his soothing words or simply the fact that he looks like an angel. Not to mention his name.

Whatever the reason might be, here I am, hanging on his every word.

"Well, I have two siblings but they're both over a decade younger than me. Mel, my sister, is fourteen, and Dani, our younger brother just turned twelve. What about you, any siblings?"

I always used to want siblings. Every time I saw kids playing together on a playground while their parents watched or whenever I saw a movie about a big family I'd feel that weird sense of loss.

I shouldn't complain though, my father and I never failed to have a good time.

And so the two of us go on, having a casual conversation until Luciano is finally called off. It's nice and successfully cheers me up.

"Thanks for the gift. And the conversation," I tell him when he's at the door.

"Of course. I'll try to come back soon, see you then."

For once, I actually have something to look forward to. Despite my still-aching body and the remaining rejection that I don't like to admit is nagging at me because of a certain man in this building, my chest feels a little lighter.

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Luciano😫😫

Now a lot of thanks to addy_aqua20  absolutely check out her storyyy😫😫