Sold to the Capo-Chapter 49: REVEALING WOUNDS

ADRIANA’S POV

The sound of gunshots filled the air as I walked to the training ground this morning, my mind solely fixed on Henry.

I had to see him.

After my discussion with Vincenzo yesterday, he told me that he wanted to try a few things with me to help me, and even though I was filled with trepidation and fear, I did want to know if he could help; I’d do literally anything to get rid of the flashbacks. I had gone through therapy several times and nothing, absolutely nothing.

It always ended up the same way and I was tired of going about in circles.

"Hey," I heard Henry’s voice as he jogged up to me, his body drenched in sweat.

"Oh... good morning" I smiled at him, tucking my hands into the pockets of my coat.

He watched me silently with a soft smile. "It is cold out here" He muttered.

"Yeah, it is. Training hard, I see" I nodded behind him at the shooting range.

He looked back over his shoulder and shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much as always." he nodded.

There was a brief silence as I was unsure of what to say especially under his scrutinizing gaze. "Are you okay?" He suddenly asked, his hands resting on his waist.

"Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?" I forced a smile at him.

He looked around, lowering his voice before he spoke, his gaze holding the promise of safety and concern. "You don’t look too fine. Did you tell him about what I told you?"

I quickly shook my head. Of course, I hadn’t told Vincenzo that Henry wouldn’t be standing here if I had confronted Vincenzo with that. "No, I didn’t tell him that. I’m just...mad right now at myself and everything for believing this... lie" I gestured around the mansion.

"I’m sorry you had to find out that way." He sounded genuinely apologetic, but he quickly kept quiet when a few people passed us.

"It’s fine. I actually wanted to tell you something about your proposal..." I forced the words out of my mouth despite how bitter it sounded even to me.

He crossed his arms, trepidation in his gaze as he waited for me to continue. "What about my.... Stuff?" He didn’t say the word but he wanted to know what I thought.

All through the night, I had tossed and turned, unsure what to do, and in the early hours of the morning, when I had sat up and looked at Vincenzo’s calm figure sleeping beside me, I decided that I didn’t want to be a part of this life anymore.

I had a nagging feeling inside me that I was fighting a lost cause, looking for a lost person who may not even be alive and who may not even want me anymore despite how the idea hurt. Did my father really not want me anymore? I knew he became more detached at the death of my mother but he wouldn’t have done it. I was tired of guessing, if he was still alive, he could come look for me. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Maybe I had not paid up all the people I owed, but I was tired of this, life was short, and I wasn’t going to spend it running in circles. I had things to do with my life.

Suddenly, I snapped back into the present and found myself staring into the blue eyes of Henry, who was still waiting for me to say something.

"Get me out of here," I said under my breath.

Relief broke into his features and he let out a small smile. "You’ll be fine." He reached a hand out as though he wanted to touch my face, and I stiffened. Luckily, he stopped himself in time and let his arm drop to his side.

"Next week..." he said instead.

That still seemed like a long time from now. "Next week? To where?"

No one was around, and no one could hear what we were saying; he was standing so close to me that I could feel the warmth from his body. "Cuba. I have connections"

"You do?" My voice came out breathy and soft.

He stared at me for a moment longer than necessary and he smiled softly, his cheeks tinting with the slightest shade of pink. "Being the consigliere comes with its perks. You’d get a new identity and could live freely. A new life. No one will know where you are" He muttered.

The idea sounded really good to me and I broke into a grin. "Thank you so much but I do wanna know... why are you helping me?" I couldn’t help but ask.

He shrugged and bit down on his lip, a soft look in his eyes. "I don’t know..."

When I first met him, I thought for sure he would be like the others, but he kept proving my assumptions wrong, and at this point, I was wondering if it was possible for someone like him, who felt so perfect, to be true. What was he hiding? What was his dirty secret? I needed to know.

"Well thank you..." I muttered, taking a step back from him with a barely contained smile on my lips.

Maybe I didn’t know if this would work but I had nothing but hope. If this turned out too good to be true, I would just find a new way. I did trust him though.

With a last smile, I turned back on my heels and started walking towards the mansion again for breakfast.

As I neared the mansion, I froze, noticing who was at the window staring outside. At me.

Vincenzo was standing there with a casual look on his face but I knew he had seen Henry and I talking.

I stopped right outside the door just as the door opened, and Vincenzo walked out dressed in a black shirt, trousers, and a black coat to complete it.

"Hey..." I squeaked quickly masking it with a cough.

"Do you have the flu?" He raised a brow while watching me.

I thought fast. "Yes..." I quickly took a step away from him.

He suddenly reached a hand out, grabbing my arm with a warning look in his eyes. "Don’t move away... we’re starting today" He informed.

"Starting what?" I muttered, ignoring his hand on mine.

"You and me. Let’s help you get over it..." He paused, looking over my shoulder at something. "You seemed to have quite the conversation with Henry"

My heart skipped a beat at the accusing undertone in his voice and I shrugged nonchalantly outwardly. "We were just talking about the bookstore stuff"

"What even happened at the bookstore?" He questioned, pulling me into the house and locking the door behind me.

"Nothing and why’d you have to lock it?" I nodded towards the door, a confused look on my face.

He looked at the door as though only realizing what he had done before he scratched the back of his neck. "I don’t think I’d want any disturbances. These last few days have been hectic, and it’s my day off...literally," he chuckled at his own joke before gesturing down the hallway.

"What’s there?" I asked, even as I kept walking in the direction he was steering me in.

"I want you to let me in, Tesoro," He said softly just as I got to a locked door.

I had seen this door severally when I toured around and I always wondered why it was locked.

Maybe today I would know.

"Do you want to see what’s in it?" He whispered from behind me.

"Yes," I muttered without thinking, tracing my hand on the doorknob.

"Answer one question and I will open it. Was it one person?" He coerced.

My jaw tightened at his question, and I felt tempted to just walk away, but I wanted to know; I wanted to be free. For once in my life, I wanted to talk about it.

"Two of them" I whispered.

I couldn’t see him as he was behind me but his body tensed at that before he let out a shaky breath. "C’mon," he stepped in front of me and pulled out a key from the keychain with him, opening the door and ushering me inside.

As soon as I stepped in, he locked the door behind us and I struggled to make out anything in the dark room. All the windows were closed but I could smell paint.

Why was it so dark here?

Suddenly, Vincenzo flipped the light switch on, and the light flickered briefly before it fully illuminated the room, revealing a space unlike any other I had seen in the mansion.

My breath caught in my throat as I stepped inside, taking in the scene before me. The room was a private sanctuary, filled with large canvases leaning against the walls. Some of them were completed, but many others were clearly works in progress. The air smelled faintly of oil paint and turpentine, mingling with the quiet, almost sacred atmosphere.

The floor was covered in splashes of dry paint that was never cleaned, like vibrant footprints marking the artist’s journey. Brushes and palettes were scattered about. The paint was never cleaned yet this place was clean... no dust or anything.

As I walked further in, I looked around in awe. The walls were adorned with various pieces, each one more stunning than the last. The colors were rich and bold, and the figures in the paintings seemed to come to life in the dim light.

I was so caught up in the beauty of it all that I almost didn’t notice the largest painting near the far wall, standing almost like a centerpiece in the room. It was partially covered by a cloth, but the outline of the figure beneath was unmistakable. Without thinking, I reached out and pulled the cloth away, revealing the unfinished portrait beneath.

My heart skipped a beat.

It was a woman, though only her figure and features were faintly sketched in. The painting was of a woman with a graceful pose, her face partially painted but still soft and blurred around the edges. It was a breathtaking image, even in its incomplete state. The woman’s flowing dark hair seemed to curl in the light, and her expression was serene, almost melancholic.

"Who is this?" I whispered without thinking, my voice reverberating softly in the stillness of the room.

Behind me, I heard Vincenzo’s footsteps. He had been watching me in silence, but now he stepped closer. I could feel his presence just behind me, close enough to touch, but he didn’t. His voice was low, a hint of emotion breaking through his calm demeanor. "That... that was my mother."

The words hit me harder than I expected. The way he said it, so quietly, made me pause, as if I had accidentally stepped into something much more personal than I had intended. I turned to him, but he was already looking at the painting with a distant gaze, as though lost in the memories it held.

"After she died... I took up the mantle," he continued, his voice steady but raw. "She was an artist. She painted like this—raw. I painted this of her and wanted to give it to her, but after her death, I couldn’t bear to finish it. I couldn’t bring myself to touch it, to ruin the piece of her that I had painted when she was still alive. I just left it all here, brought her paintings here and I come here sometimes to paint new pieces even though it feels like shit. I hate art. I hate it because she’s not here but I can’t stop."

My mind reeled as I processed his words. He had kept this room a secret. This was not just a space for art, but a place where he had poured his grief, his memories of someone he had lost. And I, somehow, had walked into it without realizing the weight of what I was standing in.

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as I turned fully to face him.

Vincenzo’s eyes locked with mine, his gaze intense, and for a brief moment, I felt like he could see right through me, to the place where all my own fears and secrets lay hidden.

He stepped closer, his presence almost overwhelming, but his touch was gentle when he reached for me. His fingers brushed my shoulder before turning me slightly, guiding me so that we were facing each other and I could feel my heart pounding.

"I want you to understand me," he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. "You’re opening up to me, sharing pieces of your life that I know are hard for you. And as you do, I want you to feel at ease with me. I want to give you something of mine in return."

I wanted to whisper it. A thank you would suffice but I couldn’t.

But I did hope that even though I never said, he knew... he would know that I was truly thankful.