“The honor is mine,” Francesca said.
That night Eva transferred millions of dollars into the woman’s bank account. She did it to thank Francesca, but also because it would ensure that Francesca remained loyal to her for all the right reasons. The transfer of money was never mentioned.
Now, in her private office, Eva turned to face the window again. She didn’t want Francesca to see her expression as she received the news.
“I found her,” Francesca said.
Eva didn’t respond.
“Your mother gave birth to her when you were eight.”
Eva felt her forehead scrunch together. She sat quietly for a few seconds and it came back to her in blurry snapshots. Her mother overweight, suddenly bulky in a housedress. Her father sending her mother to Rome to stay with Eva’s aunt. When Eva complained, her father said it was to keep her mother safe. Eva didn’t question it. Decisions like that were made often in her household. Eva remembered the one time her father had raised his hand to her. She had been seven years old and had delivered a message for him and then fallen asleep in the hills. When she returned home he had slapped her. She had been mortified.
Her mother had patiently explained to Eva that the men their family did business with were very dangerous and would not hesitate to hurt a child to prove a point. Her father had been worried they’d done something to her.
The next day her father sent her to a small northern village for a month to learn the art of Gladiatura Moderna, the Italian martial arts style that primarily used weapons in a fighting style much like fencing. The weapons she learned to manipulate included medieval daggers, longswords, liccasapuni—long thin, Sicilian dueling knives, and even wooden walking sticks.
When she came back, her father told her she would continue her lessons three times a week with the local expert and that her mother was leaving for Rome for about four months.
That is when it must have happened, that is when her mother must’ve given birth to her sister, Eva realized now. She nodded at Francesca who continued.
“Your sister is alive and living in Monterey, California. Her name is Lucia-Grazia Santella.”
Her shoulders sagged hearing the name. A sister. A blood relative. Named after her. Her emotions welled up in her throat. She would not cry. It was unseemly.
She waited. Francesca had more to say, apparently.
“Your sister is pregnant. With a boy. Due any day.”
She was an aunt. Eva waited. She could tell by the way Francesca paused that there was still more.
“Your sister has another child. A fifteen-month-old daughter.”
Eva closed her eyes, trying to stem the flood of tears threatening to breach the corners of her eyes.
“Name?” Her voice was hoarse, revealing her emotions ever so slightly. Eva held her breath, waiting. “What’s the little girl’s name?”
Finally, Francesca spoke:
“Giada Valentina Santella.”
A group of hackers fighting for the underdog. A greedy society who will stop at nothing to get what they want. Gia Santella meets her most dangerous enemy yet in Night Fall.
Need to catch up with Gia Santella’s wild ride so far?—save 30% and buy the first six books in the Gia Santella Boxed Set 1-6. Find out more here: kristibelcamino.com
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