Chapter 21

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Giada

"Don't give me that look, I'm just doing my job," Melanie says, raising her arms in mock surrender at my grim expression.

My gaze drops to the open box at the foot of my bed before finding my friend's/ nurse's/ I-don't-know's eyes again. I'm not sure what to call her.

She was assigned to be my nurse after my talk with Leo two weeks ago but our relationship quickly turned more personal than that. Don't worry, I'm not about to fall for another person in this hellhole and I won't trust her with my life but she's fun and shit gets boring in solitude.

Besides, I haven't been in need of a nurse in days and she's still here. Might be due to the begging I did when Leo mentioned relieving her from the task but who knows.

With her help, my wounds have healed nicely and although I'm still not as good as new, I can move most of my parts freely again.

Which brings us to the present, where I'm slowly pulling the dark red gown from the carton box. With each glorious inch I reveal, I feel more confused even as I gape at the smooth material. I lay it out fully on my bed and take a close look at it.

The tight turtleneck collar holding the dress together would make it seem modest if it weren't for the sinfully deep V that starts right below, there are two cut-out circles on each side of what I assume is the waist, and a long slit along the length of the skirt on the right side. My heart picks up at the sight of this beauty and for a moment I can't help but picture myself in it.

But then a soft chuckle from my friend pulls me back to reality and I school my features.

"What the hell is this, Mel?" I ask, trying to sound annoyed.

"Oh save the act for someone else. I've seen the sparkle in your eyes already and I don't blame you. This must've cost a fortune," she mumbles, absently running a hand over the fabric.

"So what, the dress isn't ugly. That doesn't explain why you brought it here, though," I huff.

"Why do think it's here?" she rolls her eyes but when she meets my gaze I can tell she's excited. I just know I won't like what comes next. "It's for you. Now get your lazy ass up so we can get you ready. We only have four hours to get you clean and pretty."

"Excuse me. I'm always pretty," I joke before pulling myself together. "But seriously, what the hell is going on? What do I need to get ready for?" A slow sense of dread creeps into my gut as I wait for a reply.

Once again, I've been completely ignored by the man who's keeping me here since I woke up. Leo eventually felt bad enough for me to spill the beans about how they saved me but that was about all the information I got.

Apparently, Enzo killed Luciano. I feel bad about the relief that washed over me at the news but otherwise no sentiment towards the dead man.

As for the killer of said man, I couldn't bring myself to ask about him. It was on the tip of my tongue multiple times, to ask how we knew each other or whether I could speak to him directly but the words never left my lips.

I'm a coward, sue me.

The thing is, in the last two weeks I've come to multiple realizations.

First, all the people working for Vincenzo are annoyingly stunning. It's random but it needed to be said.

Second, not being able to move your shoulder and back disables you incredibly.

Oh, and third, Vincenzo isn't responsible for my father's death or my amnesia. I'm sure he has plenty of blood on his hands but not my dad's, it seems.

It took an embarrassing amount of time for me to piece everything together and understand Luciano confessed to being responsible for the accident but I eventually got there. It took another few days for the realization that I'd been hating the wrong man to set in.

I mean, I get now that I didn't really have a reason to despise Enzo but the feelings were so real that I don't know what to do with it. And technically my anger is still justified, considering the way he's treated me, right?

Right. That doesn't mean I'm not still confused.

"Giada? Great, I'm speaking with the wall. Earth to blondie!" Melanie snaps her fingers in front of my face, making me jolt. "Welcome back," she mutters.

"Sorry. What was that?" I ask. It's amazing how well I am at zoning out, really. Like, if there were a competition on it, I'd totally win first place.

"You asked what that bomb dress was for," she reminds me. I nod, my back straightening slightly at the reminder. My friend laughs softly, then chews on her bottom lip as she studies me, probably trying to foresee my reaction.

"Just spit it out!"

"Okay, okay. Well, it's for the gala." When I don't react, she sighs exasperatedly and looks skyward.

"Oddio! Sure, give me four hours to prepare her. We don't have time for this," she groans to herself.

(Dear God)

"So, no idea what rock you've lived under for the entirety of your life but if you want to be ready on time, and trust me, you do, we'll have to multitask. So, get in the shower while I catch you up on things."

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