Marco

As the sun blazed down relentlessly, everything shimmered in a golden haze, kissed by its unrelenting heat. 

While driving down Santo Spirito's streets, the negative stories told about these walls resurface in my mind, but my determination triumphs over any lingering apprehension. With precision, I scan the lively and diverse atmosphere, informed by a little birdie that Valentina often takes this route around this time.

'Remind me why we're in Florence, especially in Santo Spirito of all places?'" Giovanni whines.

I look at him frustrated.

“Don’t answer that. How are we going to find her if we keep roaming around in circles?” he inquires.

“Quit the questions, Giovanni! I'm trying to concentrate.”

“I'm out here simply because you are a friend. If I get killed in the quest to find a woman you claim not to love, let it be known that I laid my life for a brother!”

“No one is dying.”

“I hope so.”

Stressed out, I sigh, "She must be around here somewhere."

“You haven’t told me why you are looking for her.”

"I just want to ensure she's okay," I express with concern.

“Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

"Marco, you confuse me. You ended things with her for no valid reason, and now we're on a mission to check on her? This doesn't add up. I thought you told me one time you were madly in love with her?"

“Are you going to help me find her or are you just going to keep bombarding me with questions I do not have answers too.”

“Then count me out of this! Stop the car, I'm going home.”

“You are joking right?”

I glance at him, hoping he's not serious, only to realize he genuinely means it.

"I ended things with her because aligning my father's company with that of Mr. Alessandro will elevate us socially, and that can only happen if I marry Isabella," I confess.

“Can you hear yourself?”

"Clearly. My father has always aspired to make a name for himself since time immemorial. This isn't a recent development," I acknowledge.

"He has achieved success without any partnership, so why now? And why resort to harming someone else in the process? It's always about Leonardo. What is it that you want? Everything you do seems to revolve around him,"  He emphasizes, echoing his frustration.

“Keep my father’s name out of your mouth Giovanni.”

"You've consistently sought to be like your brother, Aurelio, going to great lengths to make Leonardo see you in the same light he saw him," he says massaging his temples.

"Cristos! Are you trying to get us killed?" he exclaims as I abruptly halt the car.

"Do not speak about my brother! He's gone! Show some respect!"

"I apologize for bringing him up. I care about you, and it seems like you're pushing yourself against a wall trying to please Leonardo and Francesca. Remember, you're their son too!"

If only he knew I'm adopted. Every reminder that I'm their adopted son brings a shudder of misery. I live with the constant fear that everything I have could be taken away in an instant if I go against my parents. I was their favourite until Mother became pregnant with my brother Aurelio, who fell ill and passed away four years ago.

"Get out," I say, my annoyance evident.

“Very funny. You don't mean that!” he says.

"I mean it. Get out," I assert, the seriousness in my tone leaving him shocked.

As he opens the door, I notice Valentina walking toward the car from a distance.

"She's coming towards us. Close the door," I announce, slamming the door shut.

"I can't believe you were about to kick me out of the car seconds ago," he says, fuming.

"It was just a bluff," I admit.

“It had better be.”

“Thank goodness for tinted glasses.”

"Her hair is gone?" Giovanni exclaims, clearly shocked.

“"All gone! My favorite feature. She hasn't been eating either. She's become so lean that a tiny breeze would throw her off the road.”

"Why is she walking in the scorching sun, checking overhead?" Giovanni inquires, puzzled by Valentina's behaviour.

"She didn't take any car along. In fact, she threw the cheque Isabella wrote her right in our faces," I respond, revealing Valentina's unexpected actions.

"She looks so damaged," he observes, noting Valentina's distressed appearance.

“Yet, still beautiful.”

"Have you ever considered having a secret affair with her? It could fulfill your desires while maintaining the appearance of being with Isabella to please your father," Giovanni suggests.

"Valentina is not that type of woman. She'd rather roll all over the streets of Rome than agree to a secret affair with me. If Isabella finds out, and her father and mine get to know, consider my career and my life in general over," I say, firmly dismissing the notion.

She walks past us, casting a quick glance at the car.

“Hope she doesn't know it's you?”

“No. This car belongs to a staff of mine.”

“Was going to ask earlier on when you showed up with the cricket. How did you pull that off?”

"I offered him my Mustang for the whole day in exchange for his. No one in their right mind would ignore such an offer. Do we follow her? I think she's heading to her mother’s restaurant," I suggest

"Follow her? Why?" Giovanni questions, seeking clarification on the purpose of tailing Valentina.

“To be sure she gets there safely or something.”

Giovanni stares at me as if questioning my sanity. 

"What if she notices she's being trailed? Please, scrap that idea, and let's head home. You've seen her, and she's in one piece. Despite her shaved hair and looking leaner, she's still as beautiful as ever," Giovanni suggests, offering a compliment that earns him a glare from me.

“What?” I'm just complimenting her.”

“I shouldn't have brought you along to start with.”

“"Ermm.. Giovanni, I really need you to come with me. Please, it will really mean a lot to me," Giovanni mimics.

“Don’t forget its not too late to throw you out.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

"Can you still see her?" I ask, trying to determine if Valentina is still within sight.

“Can you still see her.” Giovanni mimics.

“You seem to forget I was trained by a mafia.”

“I shiver in fear,” he says hissing.

“You really underestimate me many times.”

"Start this thing and let's get out of this place before pictures of our lifeless bodies circulate the news by tomorrow," Giovanni urges.

“It is not as bad as you are making it to look. This part is now considered safe.”

“Not from the stories I've been told.”

“That was a long time ago.” I respond driving off.

I'm relieved I could see her. Why did she cut her hair? She knows how much I love running my hands through it at the slightest opportunity.

She needs a car, and I don't know how to get her one without anyone knowing it came from me.