Giovanni ran his hand over his damp hair. The whole sordid story made him sick to his stomach. His precious baby sister’s life was ruined. Whoring around before she was married. He couldn’t process the undeniable dreadful facts, or better yet his heart refused to. If he had, it would mean he’d have to accept failing his sister this way. He swore that he would protect her. He swore to his mother he would keep her safe. Yet in the past three years he’d barely spent any time with her to know what was going on with her life. Instead he was consumed with rage and bitterness. This was his fault. Once again he had failed the women that he loved.
“Family, Giovanni, she lied for family. Domi killed Franco to protect our family. He loves her, and he wants to keep her safe.”
“Of course he does. She’s his sister.” He dismissed the comment. Every fiber in his being made him want to push Mira aside and go find Catalina, but he knew that would be a mistake. He had to prove to Mira and himself that he could be rational. Flavio had warned him of this many times. His blind spots were directly tied to the women in his family. His guilt for bringing his father back into his mother’s life and his pain over Catalina having to lose her father and mother so young were nothing compared to the wound in his heart for what happened to Mira. She and Flavio were right. When it came to family, he lost all perspective. Underneath his anger and disappointment, he was proud of the way Mira stood her ground and faced him. She possessed the strength that he loved and needed so much.
“Domi loves her.” She repeated.
Giovanni looked up, caught in his own thoughts. “I know he loves her, but he should have checked with me fir—” He stopped mid-sentence. The admission of Dominic’s love for his sister was dredged from a place beyond thought or reason. His eyes grew wide with understanding. He stared at Mira in disbelief.
“It started off so innocently, and they both fought it.”
“No,” he said his voice etched with pain. “God no.” He found it hard to breathe.
“Baby, they didn’t want to hurt you. They knew you wouldn’t approve, but they’re young and in love. How wise are we when we are in love? Right?”
Giovanni rose. “He wouldn’t dare!” He put space between himself and Mira. He pressed his fist into the wall and then leaned in to catch his breath.
“They ended it when she married. It was hard for them to stay away from each other.”
He turned, a bit disoriented. It was as if not enough oxygen had reached his brain. He blinked to maintain focus. Mira stood before him with weepy eyes. He tried to gently move her out of his space. Didn’t she understand he needed space? He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Mira threw her arms around him and clung to him. “Let me… go. Move,” he wheezed.
“Please, I’m begging you, let me finish.”
Giovanni seized Mira by her arms with such force he lifted her from her shoes. He shook her hard. “He touched her? He had sex with her?” he shouted in her face. Mira nodded. She didn’t struggle in his grip. “Domi fucked his very own sister? Is that what you’re telling me?” he demanded.
“They aren’t blood Gio—”
“Bullshit!!” he shouted in her face.
“He fell in love with her, and it was mutual. You’re hurting me.”
Giovanni let her go. He staggered back, his hands trembling, his lungs seizing deep gasps of air.
Mira rubbed the soreness from her arms. “She’s not a baby. You know this.”
“You said before she was married. That makes her fucking seventeen! Is that when this started? He’s been fucking la mia sorella del bambina under my nose in my home! With me down the hall?”