BONUS CHAPTER-GIOVANNI'S POV

                                    

                                          
The sounds of her wails pierce my ears, and blow me away, until I can do nothing but sit and wait until she has need of me. Scarlett is laid flat on the bed, holding the man who just died in her arms. The time has creeped by, making me very aware of how long I've been staring at her, watching helplessly as she mourns him, filling the room with her loss. I hear the doctor, the nurse outside of the room speaking, but find myself unable to stop looking at her, tormented by how much she's lost already. 
This feels like overkill. This feels like punishment—punishment she doesn't deserve. To find out you were given up at birth by a man who rescued you, and lied to for a good portion of your life, growing to love the person who was the cause of every pain...and then as if a bad curse, to discover the truth when it's nearly too late. 
His end was a struggle, a struggle he hid from her. He told me he felt himself worsening; he said he knew his time was almost done. He said it today, and I had no idea he was so sure. I should have told her, told her to stay. Instead of fighting, I should have made her stay. 
She could have gotten more time. 
The inevitable sound of rustling, boots against the floor make me tear my eyes away, to the door. The men from the mortuary hover, but don't enter, realizing she's still indisposed. My eyes shut when she kisses his face, and begins to retreat, already knowing who's come. 
I barely knew the man, but I know the girl. 
I know the type of pain she endures day in, and day out. The type of pain she feels imperative to hide from me, despite how badly I want to help. She stands up onto her feet, dragging her hands over her face, her chest slamming as she attempts to catch her breath. I follow her out of the room, as everyone else enters. I want to touch her, my hands ache wanting to touch her, to calm her, to relieve her. 
But, I'm not sure that's what she wants. Scarlett is hard-headed, and stone cold when she feels even the slightest faltering in her control. She needs it, as do I. It's the reason we're constantly discovering secrets, and built-up revelations about one another. Her steel wall is a façade, but it's sturdy, sturdy enough to resist crumbling—and sturdy enough to bar me from entering. 
It's what first attracted me to her—that wall, her strength. And it's what I love about her now, even if it drives me crazy. She's consistently dragged down by ordeals, by problems that would overwhelm sane people into madness, and yet, she can still shine rays of light so blinding, that there is no use but for me to follow. 
Any normal woman would have left by now. Any normal woman would have realized that underneath this person I've shaped, and formed, and molded, is a purposeless man. It's why I've clung onto her so tight—she's the first thing in my life that makes me want to be anything. 
Design was an idea I happened to pick, and excel at. It's never held any real weight for me. The first time I've ever felt anything worth creating was when she entered my life. This sturdy, bookish young woman who had a razor sharp tongue, and eyes that could speak, and burn right through me. It took a second glance to see what I do now. I feel ashamed I wasted that first one, shunning her over an impression.
It wasn't her appearance that won me, it was her mouth. It was the confidence, the intelligence that rolled off her tongue so easily. She saw through me, as no one had before. She saw who I'd sculpted for the world, and called me on my bullshit. 
And I knew I had to have her, by any means possible. I'd consent to anything, give her any piece of me she wanted—and force her to want more. 
I thought that road would be smooth. And was immediately proved wrong. The strength, and resolve that she carried wasn't something she was born with, but a shield she designed to keep the horrors she'd seen and endured, out of her life. What I loved about her from the start was the result of despair, something she was closely familiar with, and something it took so long to force her to part with.