Gone

GIOVANNI’S POV I left her room but couldn't shake the image of her lying there looking so small. My hand still felt warm from touching hers. What the hell am I doing? I paced my room for an hour before giving up and heading downstairs. If I couldn't rest, I might as well do something productive. The kitchen was quiet, the servants having retired for the evening. I flipped on the lights and started pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. I was halfway through dicing tomatoes when Enzo appeared in the doorway, watching me closely, a small frown on his face. "Don’t tell me you’re cooking for her?” I rolled my eyes. "Shut up," I muttered, focusing on the cutting board? "First letting her back to her room, now this." He leaned against the doorframe. "You're really working hard to get her to forgive you. huh?" My jaw clenched tightly. "I said shut up, Enzo." But he just snorted. "What's next? Flowers? A heartfelt apology? Maybe a-" "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" I snapped, poin