GianCarlo Ch. 03

"Gian! We have to get her to a hospital," Stefan said.

Gian passed her through the window into Stefan's waiting arms before jumping out the window himself. As soon as he was out he took her and carried her to the back of Stefan's car. Stefan hopped into the car and drove off.

"Was this because of my father?" Gian asked, knowing it was on both of their minds.

"Most likely."

Stefan sped off racing against sunrise. From the backseat Gian could see the stern look on Stefan face, one he recognized as guilt, one he himself wore. He'd done this to her, His idiocy, and Stefan's mistake. Gian could feel her heart beat come slower and slower as his grew faster with fear. He wished he could just appear in ER with her.

Gian ran his fingers over her face, so serene, so devoid of emotion. He remembered this face smiled and laughed at him barely ten hours earlier. His thumb trailed her cheek and over her lips. He had kissed those lips. That could possibly be the last time he'd kiss her. He found himself leaning in, her coconut smell filling his senses. He placed a small kiss to her lips as a few tears slipped from his eyes. She had to make it.

"We're here, take her in I'll park." Stefan said pulling up in front of the ER. Gian hoped out cradling Delia to his chest.

"She's been in a car accident, please hurry, her heart is slowing down." He pleaded with the nurse behind the front desk.

"This way," She said leading him behind a near curtain as she pulled out a stethoscope.

****

The phone rang once before Durante picked up, he was in bed with his wife but nothing was more important than his son, than protecting his lineage. He wished that he could have more sons and not have to deal with the insolence of this one, but his wife wasn't ever able to conceive until she conceived Giancarlo by pure miracle. His miracle son became his worrisome son, then his troublesome son, than his burdensome son in a matter of a few years. Ever since he'd moved out three years ago he'd been trying to conceive with his wife.

Sweet Analise, his wife, and his mate, was beautiful and meek. She loved Durante and would do anything for him. She often wondered, though, did that anything include giving up her son. In the last year it felt like it. So when Durante approached her with the thought of bearing another child she wanted it more than anything. She tried day in and day out until it was less like passion and more routine like showering before bed. Now in the middle of Durante's controlled rutting atop her he received a call and stopped to answer it.

"Durante," His voice was gruff and deeply accented. "Was my son in the car with her?" He asked in Italian. "Is she dead?"

There was a long explanation at the other end of the phone before Durante responded, "Good work, Let Romano know that his services is no longer needed and that you will be taking on the position." He hung up and returned to his wife.

"What has happen to Giancarlo?" She asked softly. "Talk of his only son seemed to upset him so, Analise didn't do it often but curiosity and worry had gotten the best of her.

"Nothing to concern yourself with," He said grabbing her waist and pulling her astride him.

"But he's my son," She said softer than before, She didn't want to defy him.

"Nothing," He reiterated as he forcefully impaled her onto his thick member, "that concerns you."

She let out a lustful grunt and began to ride him. No matter how brusque or stern he was with her she always trusted him to take care of her and her son as well. Even when they had met he was very rough, for a nobleman.

It was 1453 in a small tavern in southern Italy when she first saw him. He and his fellow men stopped there en route to Rome from Sicily. He was tall yet as pale as Alabaster with striking green eyes and the deepest black hair. Back then he wore it in waves around his neck and shoulders. Durante towered her by head and shoulders, she was a petite woman with wide hips and olive skin. Her eyes were dark as onyx and glittered just the same. He walked up to her, "You are mine," He growled into her ear.

That night she was. He had her spread across his make shift bed in his tent at the center of his camp. Even in a tent he had more fineries then her whole village possessed. He brought up marriage with her father and the next day she was journeying with him to the capital city of Italy. To this day she is as much enamored with him as the first.