PSEUMINO, VENTO AUREO.

G. GIOVANNA

═ ☆. GIORNO REPLIED TO YOUR request for Stand assistance by swinging by with his Maserati. You spent the twenty-minute drive to Giorno's house by catching him up on what had happened with Scolippi and trying not to gawk too much at his clothes. It shouldn't have been so weird seeing Giorno in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but it was.

"Leone Abbacchio. I feel like I should know that name, but I don't. He said he was a Stand user?"

"If we're taking his word for it."

"Strange, I don't think he goes to Sapiena; otherwise, I would've heard about him. It didn't occur to me that there might be someone else investigating the events going on."

"Mista said he might be a cop."

"I doubt it. But he must have been at this for a while if he knew about Scolippi and his girlfriend. It's so weird that he saw you and Mista. It makes me wonder if he knows someone in our group already."

"But why did he ask to work with us? He seemed like he was working alone."

"That's true. If I were you, I'd definitely talk to him. He seems like he might know more about this than we do. He could be an ally in the long run."

Giorno happened to live in an upper-class gated community near Naples' downtown. He greeted the gatekeeper and pulled into one of the many enormous houses lining the neighbourhood. With its gorgeous architecture and perfect front drive, you wouldn't have been surprised to see Giorno's house on a magazine cover.

"Welcome back, Signor Giovanna." A sharply dressed man opened the front door for you and Giorno as you entered. Of course, Giorno's family had a butler. What else had you been expecting?

Giorno tossed his keys to the butler, who caught them deftly. "Grazie, Vanilla. I'd like to introduce my friend. I'm just helping them out with a few things." To you, he said, "This is our butler, Vanilla Ice."

Vanilla Ice inclined his head. "It's lovely to meet you. Is there anything I can have prepared for the two of you? The sandwiches are in the living room as you requested."

Giorno was already moving farther into the house. "We'll be fine, grazie."

You smiled at the butler before following after Giorno. It was so off-putting seeing him in his house. He'd dropped the elegant, collected façade he wore around Sapiena. He seemed like an actual eighteen-year-old and you didn't know how to feel about that.

After passing a few catalogue-worthy rooms, you entered the living room (the personal one, Giorno informed you), and you were glad to see it was much homier. A faded green furniture set sat around a coffee table, various knickknacks arranged on the opposite wall. There was a leather photo album sitting open on the coffee table beside a plate of sandwiches. Giorno sat down on the loveseat and canted his head for you to join him.

"My mom wanted a picture from this album. I think she needs it for an interview she's giving. Of course, she's too busy to come back to Naples to get it, so she wanted me to mail it over." Giorno rolled his eyes, but he didn't seem to mind that much. He showed you the picture his mother wanted—a candid shot of a stunning brunette and a golden-haired man you recognized as Chief Prosecutor Brando. Giorno didn't look exactly like his father, but there was something in the cunning slant of their eyes and confident upturned chin that was the same.

"Your mother is gorgeous," you said.

"I rarely see her," Giorno replied. "Or my father, for that matter." His tone was flippant, but you thought you heard an undercurrent of sadness. He flipped to a different picture in the album. "Twenty euros if you guess who this is."