CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
“BARGAINING CHIP”

SCARLETT DEL GATO

I’ve been living in the pool house for a week and I never got tired of how extremely phenomenal it looked. It looked small and plain on the outside, but on the inside it was well decorated—with pot plants, paintings, small desk so that I could do my homework, a single bed, a cute little fluffy carpet and a small dresser to add a homey feeling to the entire pool house.

Giovanni and I painted it the way I wanted it to be painted too—light purple just like at my old house. When we went paint shopping the other day, he made sure that his gun was tucked away far, far away. He promised me that he would handle any dangerous situation like a normal human being, and when we went home that day, he kept his promise.

The sun was just on the verge of setting, and for the first time in a very long time since I arrived here, it felt as if I wasn’t in the way anymore. I was out of their father’s wrath and I was away from the mansion and tucked away in the pool house, per Giovanni’s orders.

He talked to his dad about me not leaving.

His dad wasn’t very happy, but he eventually came to terms with the fact that Giovanni wasn’t going to let me leave and that if his dad was going to throw me out, that Giovanni would pack his bags too.

His father, of course, didn’t want to lose his son, so he put the hatred he had for me aside—not entirely though, it was more than just tolerating me right now—and decided to let me stay in the pool house.

“It is so peaceful to watch the sunset through the sunroof.” Giovanni says, turning his face to look at me.

We were currently lying on my single bed, cramped together before one of us falls over and onto the hardwood floors of the pool house.

I was using his chest as a pillow while he used my fluffy pillow for himself. His chest was way more comfortable anyways. I loved hearing his heartbeat and feeling it beating against my cheek.

“The sunsets always are.” I tell him, tilting my head upward so I could place a kiss against his chiselled cheekbone.

Even though it really did feel peaceful right now, with Giovanni in my bed and with my head against his chest, I never managed to get rid of the guilt I felt for lying to them for this long about the possibility that my brother might be alive or not.

It’s been more than a week since Vincent kidnapped me and proposed me that I should kill the brothers in exchange for my brother’s life, but I still couldn’t get it over my heart to tell them or to do what I was supposed to do—and that was to kill the entire Castiglione family line.

I want to tell him everything I have learnt from Vincent, but that would cause a war. A war none of us are ready for. The White Pistols has had their knives in for the Castigliones for a long time, and starting a war with them now… I can’t imagine what would happen if I lose any of them. I can’t.

I just need to keep it quiet a little longer until I can figure something out.

“Giovanni?” I ask, laying with my head against his chest again. I didn’t want to look at him when I am going to ask him the question that has been haunting me for weeks. “Can I ask you something random?”

“You can ask me anything.” He says, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, he made sure that his thumb grazed my cheek in the process. I always shivered when his warm fingertip grazed my sensitive skin.

I sigh, summoning the courage to actually ask him what I wanted to ask, but I was scared of what he might think about it. He’ll think I’m losing my mind.

He lifts himself up. I sit up too, looking at my hands folded on my lap now. He reaches his hand out and tips my chin upward so I could look at him. “You can ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. Don’t hesitate.” He says.

“I’m just not sure how I want to ask it.” I tell him. “But I’m just going to go for it. Are you certain that you pulled the trigger?”

I look at him now.

At first he frowns, but when he shakes his head, I have my answer. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I can’t remember if I did. I just know that I wanted to, but I just can’t remember if I actually squeezed the trigger or not. I just don’t remember.” The frown disappears from his face. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know. The question from the last time went unanswered so I just wanted to ask you again if you remember pulling the trigger or not.” I tell him.

If he didn’t pull the trigger, Vincent did. And if Vincent pulled the trigger, he might have my brother. I just didn’t know if he was alive or not. The not-knowing was eating me alive. It was slowly driving me insane.

“Is this related to one of the theories you had? Or a nightmare?”

I nod. “It might be. I got this theory that my brother might still be alive and that you weren’t the one who shot him. The silhouette, remember?”

Please, don’t think anything of this theory. I thought. If he thinks that I know something, I have to back out of this conversation as soon as I can before he’s going to know that something is up.

“If only it were real though.” He chuckles humourlessly. If there was even the smallest chance that I can take everything back, I would. But the damage has already been done. All I can do is make up for the things that I did in the past, hoping that you might forgive me someday.” He says, laying down with his head in my lap this time.

I start to play with his hair while I was deep in thought.

I can’t keep lying to him. To them. I have to tell them the truth someday and I have to figure out what I’m going to do with Diablo and Vincent. They’re waiting for me to kill the brothers and they are going to expect feedback soon. I have to do something, and quick.

“I have this odd theory too, but it isn’t really relevant.”

“What?” He asks.

“What if Antonio was somehow forced to send you to jail?”

“Who would want to force him to do something like that?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” I shrug half-heartedly. “Maybe the White Pistols seeing that they have this strong hatred for you and your family. They will do everything in their power to take you down. So, I thought that maybe they had something to do with everything.”

“Your theories sound so real.” Giovanni says.

I wanted to tell him that they were true, but the words were lodged in my throat. I couldn’t get them out, even if I tried.

“I, uh, I was thinking that I could get close to the White Pistols. I want to gather some information they might have on my brother.” I tell him.

Giovanni sits up so fast, he nearly head-butted my chin in the process. “Absolutely not!” He nearly bellows. “That is a bad idea. They’re bad people and they will kill you on the spot if they know that you’re with me.”

“But don’t you want to know if Antonio was involved with them or not?”

It was a big chance trying to reason with Giovanni about the White Pistols thing, but it was a chance I just had to take.

“Of course I want to find out,” he says, running his fingers through his black hair, “but that’s a bad idea. If there’s any other way to find out the truth, then I am all in. But reasoning with the White Pistols is a no-no. That is not looking for trouble. That is looking for a bullet in your skull.”

I throw my hands up in surrender. “I was just throwing some options around.” I tell him. “It’s nearly been two months and still nothing has come up yet, Giovanni. The truth is out there, we just need to search a little harder.”

“You barely came out alive the other day and now you’re already searching for more things that might kill you. You remind me of me sometimes.” He says, shaking his head with a smile on his mouth.

“Just shows you that you’re teaching me really well to be like you.” I smile. “When are we starting our training, by the way?”

“This weekend.” He says. “The sooner, the better.”

I nod. If I can train well enough, I could have a talk with the White Pistols.