"Il Mio Amore, wait and see what I have planned for you." Adriano said with a smirk that made my stomach churn.
All I could do was turn my head away from his glaring cold eyes and pray that my father would come for me soon.
My name is Gianna A...
"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered." ―Nelson Mandela
This is a picture of Miliana! Well when she is healthy again!
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Gianna Pov~
Standing there, under the intense scrutiny of the three Basilio siblings, I realized that there was no room for deception. They possessed an uncanny ability to discern the truth, and any feeble attempt at lying would be detected long before it left my lips. So, I opted for honesty.
"As you all know, a couple of months ago when Miliana arrived at the Russian estate, I was assigned the task of delivering her food. I was explicitly instructed not to engage with her or pay her much attention—just drop off the food and leave. So that's precisely what I did on the first day, or at least I tried," I began, my voice steady.
"I descended those stairs, petrified, and brought her the food. But what I found shattered me inside. She was lifeless, huddled against the wall. She didn't even register my presence until I greeted her. From that point on, I started staying a few extra minutes after delivering the food—not long enough for anyone to notice but not too brief either. I spoke to her about life, shared my stories, read books to her, and occasionally played some music."
I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, their eyes absorbing every word I uttered. "She never responded, never smiled, laughed, or moved much. Until the day before you all took Yana and me. She finally spoke—just one word: her name. That was it. It's all she knew. She doesn't remember anything, and I never pressured her to."
"So, she doesn't remember anything," Leena breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper.
We all stood there in silence, each lost in our own thoughts, grappling with the complexity of the situation.
"Will you spend time with her?" Adriano finally broke the silence, and I turned to him, awaiting an explanation.
Adriano elaborated, "She seems to recognize you out of all of us. There's some kind of bond between you two. Maybe you can help trigger her memory."
I was taken aback by the request. Spending time with the person who was a constant reminder of my guilt, who had been locked up in torment partially because of me, felt like an unbearable task. But deep down, I knew Adriano was right, and I couldn't refuse. If there was a chance I could help her, maybe it was worth it.
With a hesitant nod, I agreed, "Okay, I'll do it. What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Talk to her like you used to, bring her meals, and just be her friend. Hopefully, she might start talking again. I'll call Mera to do a full evaluation on her, and she'll guide us on what to do," Adriano instructed.
"Okay. I'll be back in 10 minutes," I replied and turned to walk down the hall, distancing myself from the formidable trio of siblings and making my way to the shower.
