TWO
C H A P T E R - T W O - - - S E L E N A
Selena said in a quiet voice, "Okay, thank you for telling me," before putting her phone back on the nightstand next to her bed and carefully hanging up.
To fight the chilly sweat that had just engulfed her entire body, she moved down even farther under her blankets and curled up beneath her sheets after swallowing to get rid of the lump that had formed at the back of her throat. Giovanni, her boss and the person who had given her more assistance than anyone else on earth, had passed away. She had just been awakened by Matteo's news.
Selena said to no one, "Fuck."
She snatched the closest pillow and buried her face in it while yelling till her throat was sore and barely making any sounds.
“Fuck Fuck Fucking Hell ! ”
When her throat gave up, she dropped the pillow and let her lifeless, useless body droop against the mattress. She closed her eyes while focusing on the pitch-blackness of her own eyelids, pleading with herself to fall asleep again so she could return to her dreams, where none of this had occurred. Maybe when she awoke once again, she'd understand that everything had simply been a nightmare—a horrible prank her own mind had pulled on her to punish her.
However, the longer she waited, the worse her head hurt and the throbbing in her temples became as the seconds passed.
She finally kicked the blankets and sheets off her body, allowing the chilly air to wash over her till her legs trembled, as she murmured to herself, "Jesus fucking Christ."
She was unable to afford to turn up the heat throughout the winter. When she considered how much worse her financial condition would soon get now that Giovanni was gone, she laughed a little hysterically and hid her face in her hands.
A short while later, she told herself, "Okay, snap the fuck out of it." She was unable to endure her own self-pity. In Selena's opinion, it was the most repulsive sensation imaginable. So your boss has passed away. Then what? You still need to continue. You still need to get yourself together and behave normally. After all, her dad still looked on her for support. She couldn't afford to lose her composure.
After a minute of letting her body acclimate to the cold, Selena slowly sat up, put her feet on the floor, stood up, and stretched to rouse herself. She then went down the hall and into her father's room. She gave the door a gentle knock before partially opening it to see inside. Her father was seated on his bed, already awake, reading the newspaper from the previous day. As soon as he saw her, he silently motioned for her to approach and sit beside him by patting the space next to.
She nodded in agreement with a small smile before getting into bed next to her father and resting her head lightly on his shoulder. Although he had recently been doing better than before, he was still recovering from a heart attack—in fact, numerous heart attacks. Even though it drove him insane to accept her kind attention, he needed to be handled with care.
She sighed and muttered, "My boss is dead," as her father pulled her close and put an arm around her shoulders.
Her father softly apologized, putting the newspaper down to pay attention to her. Was he unwell or what? If he was, you never mentioned it.
Selena gave a headshake. "No, I just recently saw him, and he seemed fine. He's always been without a problem. This is unbelievable.
For a considerable amount of time, her father remained silent while gently massaging Selena's head. These things do occur.
Selena muttered, "I know," but there was a small voice within her head that objected. Before, she had never considered Giovanni to be mortal. He was truly larger than life, the kind of character that people tell their grandchildren about, the kind of character that made every moment filled with excitement, dread, or fascination. He served as Selena's second father, providing for her employment needs when no one else would. She had to decide what to do now.
She coughed and spoke, being careful not to allow the anxiety that was building in her gut come through in her tone.
She looked back at her father and said, "Just that, you know, I don't know what's going to happen now," with her eyes remaining on the carpet in front of them.
"To Giovanni's matter?"
She'd never really explained to her father that she was paid for assisting a crime lord, but she somehow assumed that he was smart enough to pick up on it anyway. If he disapproved, he kept it to himself, probably aware that she only took the job in the first place to help save money for his medical expenses. Selena nodded slowly, even though she wasn't entirely sure her father understood the whole situation.
Yes, it happens so quickly. Nobody, in my opinion, anticipated that he would live for another ten or fifteen years. She shook her head, unwilling to express her concerns to her father in front of others. "I guess his son, Matteo, will take leadership now," she said. Yes, Matteo was a jerk who Selena detested working with, and it was likely that he would soon make her his supervisor or possibly dismiss her. But it was self-centered of her to vent her anxiety on her ailing father. He already had much to worry about.
Even so, he tightened his hold on Selena's shoulder to hold her in place as his other hand ran over the back of her hair. It will be well, dear.
“How do you know?” Selena whispered, almost embarrassed to be asking for reassurance.
Her dad shrugged. “I know you. You’re the best at what you do.”
Selena laughed and remarked, "You don't even know what I do," as she remembered all the drug trafficking deals she had assisted in setting up during the previous 12 months.
Her father only said, "Doesn't matter. You are intelligent, dependable, and tough. Whatever happens, everything will be OK, honey. It will, I'm certain."
Selena gently squeezed her father's hand while grinning up at him. "You always know how to cheer me up,"
Once again shrugging, her father picked up his newspaper and started reading once more. "It's what I do."
Selena straightened up her posture and toughened up her shoulders before getting to her feet. “Right. Time to get to work.”
“So early?” her father asked, not looking up from his newspaper.
“Yep. No sense slacking off just because I’m not sure who my boss is anymore,” Selena said with a laugh. “Anyways, they might need my help planning the wake and funeral and everything.”
“Atta girl,” her dad said as she left to get dressed for work.
Selena entered the Bianco complex thirty minutes later feeling uncomfortable and intensely aware of how out of place she seemed amid the groups of family members and friends who had assembled as soon as Giovanni's passing to express their condolences. She took a deep breath and moved toward Giovanni's workplace. Perhaps there was paperwork to take care of. Although he never let Selena read his will while he was alive, Giovanni undoubtedly left behind a thorough will.
Before Selena realized that someone was present and seated at Giovanni's desk, the door to Giovanni's office was already open. She initially believed it was Matteo, but upon closer inspection, she realized it was someone altogether different—someone she had never seen before. A young man with thick, black hair who had his head bowed over in one big, broad hand was standing there. He was only gazing down at Giovanni's desk as his other hand made slow, circular motions on the desk's surface next to a spilled coffee cup and a massive stack of papers.
Selena was on the verge of speaking. Anything. The man's eyes held a deep grief that drew her in like a rope tugging at her waist; she wasn't sure why. But she restrained herself and kept her gaze fixed on him. She was aware that she was acting impolitely by gazing at someone who was obviously experiencing grief. But she allowed herself a few more moments as she took in the sight of the appealing young man, who appeared to be surrounded by a thick raincloud-like blanket of gloom.
Finally, she persuaded herself, "He deserves to grieve in privacy." She backed out of the room and carefully closed the door behind her. Even though she had never met him before, she felt as though she could relate to his suffering. She had the impression that she was suffering from an unquenchable aching in her heart.
