Untangle Me

Chapter 62

Giada

"Dad?" I stutter, my voice a flimsy thing nearly lost in the wind. I'm shocked in place, my brain unable to catch up with what is happening.

"Giada. You shouldn't be here," is what he replies. That evokes a laugh from me even though I'm not amused. Nope, it's a crazy sound, more similar to a huff or choke than an actual laugh and it's over as soon as it began. Then I'm shaking my head to myself.

"I shouldn't be here? You shouldn't even be alive!" I say.

God, I don't understand what is happening. Did I die? Is this what this is? Was I drugged and am now hallucinating? Because this sure as hell doesn't feel real.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," the female next to my father says slightly panicky. Numbly, I turn to her, brows drawn together as I scan her familiar features.

I can feel my heart tear slowly.

"Mamma?" I ask distantly. "No, this can't- you can't- what is going on?" the scene comes to me more vividly. I can feel the cool air on my skin, the chills and raised hairs on my bare arms. I can hear distant chatting.

The screaming inside my head registers. This isn't real! God, my head hurts, the backs of my eyes stinging as my view blurs. Why is this happening? What's wrong with me?

"Giada, calm down. We can explain," my dad tries to reason, taking a step closer to me. But I shake my head and back away, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Talk. Now. Is this real?" I ask, so fucking afraid of the answer.

"It is. Baby, it's real, we're here. Let us explain, please," my mother adds.

My temples pulse painfully. My mother. Adds.

She's standing in front of me, perfectly alive.

"Talk," I croak again.

"Oh baby, there's so much to say. I don't know where to start." The woman blows out a breath while I try to regain the ability to breathe. Her voice is so familiar. She looks the same.

But my mother is supposed to be dead.

"Look at you. God, It's been so long. You're all grown up and so much more beautiful than the pictures," she adds.

"Pictures?" I ask dumbly. What's going on?

"I sent her pictures of you almost every day," my father explains and before that can even register, my mom speaks up again.

"I wish I could have been there. It was the worst pain in my life to be apart from you and your father for all these years but it was the only way."

"You- you knew?" I ask my father.

"Yes, Principessa, of course, I did. And I wanted to tell you. All these years, it was so hard to keep this from you but it was the only way. You were too young. And then, when it was time to come back, you weren't ready," my father tells me.

"Wasn't ready," I repeat numbly.  I can't catch up. I still don't understand. There's a loud buzzing inside my scull and I can't seem to absorb all these spoken words.

"I'm so sorry," my mother repeats. I think she's crying now.

"You were alive all this time? Why were you here? Oh my god, why would you fake your death?!"

"I couldn't leave. Oh, Baby, I am so sorry but it wasn't safe. He would have followed us, found us and I couldn't put you two in danger," she says.

"What? Who?"

"Vincenzo," my father cuts in. I think my heart stops short.

"Andrea?" I ask breathlessly. I think the world is titling on its axis.

"No, Baby, his father," my mother says. "He had a... fascination with me."

"He was in love with her. Obsessed. And since he was a controlling bastard who didn't like things going anything other than his way, he didn't want your mother to be happy unless it was with him," my dad says and I recoil at the venom in his tone.

"But I didn't love him. Never did and never could. Your father and I met in secrecy. It was dangerous but we couldn't stand being apart. But when you were born and Vincenzo found out, he snapped. It was horrible, Baby. We tried hiding you here for years but it would never have worked. So you had to flee. And I couldn't come with you."

My father takes over with this absurd storytime since my mother is busy sobbing. Meanwhile, I'm numb and feel like I'm dying at the same time. "I went to America to catch him. We knew only when he was out of the picture could we be a family again. He had men following and stalking your mother at all times. Then he died right before I could catch him and his son took over. I knew I couldn't leave with him still in charge. It would have been too risky. Didn't know if he knew of your mother and wanted to keep his father's revenge going.

"For years, I tried catching him and all my efforts were to no avail. But then you come to me and tell him you're seeing him. I wanted to give up, Giada. The harassment on your mom had stopped and our flights home were already booked. I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you everything. But of course, you had to fall in love."

He releases a ragged breath before he continues, "I was so disappointed. But the heart wants what it wants. I knew I had to come back alone and leave you behind and the only way that would work was to fake my death. I am sorry, I needed to be sure you wouldn't come after me and expose your mother to Vincenzo's son."

I am perfectly still as his admission washes over me. But I can't process it. My head is in knots, my thoughts stuttering and tangled.

"You faked your death. The accident," I trail off, ice water dumped all over me and creeping through my veins. I'm misunderstanding things. This can't be real. My father is responsible for the accident that nearly killed me?

"But Luciano," I mutter, shivering all over by now.

"Ah, yes. He helped me. Don't even remember how we got into contact but he said he would help me pull the show off. Had a bone to pick with Andrea too so I figured why not. One last attempt to finish the Vincenzo bloodline once and for all. Either way, I would be out of the picture and finally back home, starting a new life," the man concludes.

And out of everything that has happened in my life, including losing- or at least thinking so- both of my parents, this moment hurts most. More than everything else.

I blink at my parents, silent tears streaming down my face as the truth unravels, the mess that is my past untangling until the pieces fit. All of them.

And the picture is so ugly I feel sick to my stomach.

Then I run.

Run down the dark alley until the pounding footsteps of my parent's footsteps are lost behind me and their shouted protests no longer reach my ear.

Run until rough hands and a hard body stop me. I look up at the stranger, out of breath and completely panicked when I don't recognize the face.

"Finalmente!" He exclaims.

(Finally!)

And I think my poor heart can't take it anymore. The world around me turns and twists, wavers and gives away to utter darkness.

I'm out cold and I hope I never wake up again.

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