I died on a filthy bed in a back-alley clinic.
I willingly sacrificed my own corneas so the Mafia man I loved could see the light of day again.
But my soul was forced to stay behind, watching another woman claim my sacrifice as her own.
Dante reclaimed his throne as the Mafia boss. Believing the lie that I had abandoned him, he unleashed his vengeance upon my family.
"Where the hell is she hiding?"
He shattered my brother's hands and drove my mother to her death. He absolutely refused to believe the fact that I was already dead, convinced instead that I was just cowering from his wrath.
It wasn't until my medical records were thrown right in his face that Dante finally realized whose eyes he was using to look at the world.
The truth drove him completely insane.
He burned the whole world down just to beg for my forgiveness.
"Gianna, please wait for me!"
Chapter 1
Gianna's POV
Dante was torturing my family, all because he needed my heart to save the woman who had stolen my eyes.
He sat on the edge of a leather sofa in the middle of a dim warehouse. As the Don of the Cosa Nostra, his reign emanated a palpable, suffocating pressure.
His large hands absentmindedly stroked the sleek fur of a small white cat. Yet, his eyes were locked onto the bleeding man strapped to a metal chair.
My brother, Leo.
Leo groaned, his head hanging low. Thick drops of blood dripped from his chin, each one landing with a distinct, sickening splat on the concrete floor.
Dante leaned forward.
"I have a hundred ways to break a man, Leo," he murmured dangerously low. "And I'm running out of them."
With a slight flick of Dante's wrist, a burly soldier stepped up and kicked the back of Leo's chair, sending him crashing to the floor.
I surged forward like a futile torrent of spirit, trying to throw myself over my brother's battered body.
I tried to shield him, but I was nothing more than a phantom.
My soul passed right through his trembling frame.
Because I was dead-now nothing but a ghost. Aside from bearing agonizing witness to it all, there was absolutely nothing I could do.
Leo coughed, spitting out a glob of saliva mixed with blood. He looked up at the Don. "Gianna... is gone," he mumbled, repeating the exact same phrase he had been chanting for hours.
Dante let out a cold, mocking scoff. "Lies," he spat, taking the truth as an unforgivable sign of disrespect.
"You refuse to take the easy way out? Fine." He raised a hand, signaling his men to resume the beating.
Heavy steel-toed boots slammed viciously into my brother's ribs with dull thuds. Leo's agonized screams echoed through the warehouse.
Every guttural cry felt like it was tearing my own nonexistent flesh wide open.
I screamed, begging them to stop, but this cold, heartless world had no room for the pleas of the dead.
Leo weakly lifted his head. "Gianna is gone," he repeated, his voice so hoarse it was barely a whisper.
The white cat on the sofa suddenly hissed. Dante grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and tossed it aside. He clenched his jaw, his eyes turning feral.
"Administer the electricity," he ordered.
His men clamped the frayed wires onto the metal chair, then flipped the switch.
Leo's body convulsed violently against his restraints.
He lost control of his bladder, a dark stain spreading rapidly across his pants as white foam bubbled from the corners of his mouth.
Dante stood up and walked right into my brother's line of sight. "Where the hell is she hiding?"
Dante continued to sneer, "Your sister is a two-faced traitor. Frankly, I couldn't care less where she ran off to."
He leaned in closer, making no effort to hide his cruel intentions.
"I'm only hunting her down because Francesca's heart is failing." He paused. "I need to carve open Gianna's chest and give her heart to someone who actually deserves it."
My soul stood completely alone in the vast void between worlds.
I remembered the day I first met him.
I remembered falling in love with this fierce, fiercely protective Mafia heir. I also remembered that brutal cartel ambush.
Blinded and confined to a hospital bed, he was completely stripped of his power and his future.
I defied my own family. I sought out an underground mob surgeon and willingly sacrificed my own corneas, just so Dante could see the light again.
I died from a severe infection in that filthy, illegal clinic.
On my deathbed, I begged my mother and brother to swear to a twisted version of omertà.
I forced them to lie.
I made them say I fled to Europe because I couldn't stomach the bloody Mafia lifestyle anymore.
I even begged my closest friend, Capo Matteo, to erase all my medical records.
I did all of this so the man I loved wouldn't have to carry the heavy sin of my death.
But my soul never left.
I was tethered to him, trapped as a silent, helpless spectator.
I watched his childhood companion, Francesca, step into the light. I watched her claim my bloody sacrifice as her own.
I watched helplessly as she used her failing heart to manipulate his misplaced rage, pointing it directly at my loved ones.
Dante squatted next to Leo. The sound of scraping metal echoed through the warehouse as he gripped a heavy pair of steel pliers.
"Word is, you're a painter," he said, staring deadpan at Leo. "If you lose your hands, will you still be so eager to protect Gianna?"