Giovanni's Perspective
I sat in my office, a pile of papers stacked on my desk. But I couldn't bring myself to deal with them—my mind kept drifting back to her, Diana.
She was like a riddle I couldn't solve. If she wasn't Fern, why did she look exactly like him? But if she was Fern, why couldn't I feel any trace of the unique bond that had once existed between Fern and me?
I rubbed my forehead and then called Tobias. "Tobias, tell her to come in."
Moments later, I sensed Diana standing in the doorway. My heightened hearing caught the sound of her taking a deep breath, trying to steady herself before knocking.
"Come in," I called, my voice low and firm.
She slowly pushed the door open and stepped into my office. Her eyes flicked to the picture on the wall—the one of Fern and me, which I'd deliberately had Tobias hang there.
I kept my gaze fixed on her, watching closely for any sign of a reaction, any hint of change in her expression.
"Diana, what's wrong? You don't look quite right." I glanced up from behind the desk, my eyes locking with hers, a touch of uncertainty in my tone.
She forced a smile, trying to sound casual. "Nothing, Mr. Giovanni. It's just been a busy day. Didn't get much rest."
I studied her quietly, trying to read her. Diana flinched, just slightly, as though she were battling some unspoken weight. She was doing her best to remain composed, but my sharp hearing caught the quickening of her pulse, the subtle tension in her breathing.
What was she afraid of?
"You look tired," I said, breaking the silence. "Why don't you head home early and get some rest?"
She froze for a brief moment, her expression hardening. She nodded, about to leave, but then I stood up and moved toward her, a strange intensity in my gaze.
"Diana, you really don't think we're familiar with each other, do you?" My voice dropped, laced with a trace of suspicion I could no longer hide.
She stiffened, her face flushing slightly.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice faltering, her eyes darting away. "What familiarity are you talking about?"
I took another step toward her, my eyes narrowing as I tried to read her every movement. I lingered on her face, searching for something—a clue, a flicker of recognition.
"I don't know, Diana…" I exhaled deeply, my tone softening, but the doubt still lingered. "Every time I look at you, I get this strange feeling, like I've seen you before. But…" I paused, as if forcing myself to accept an impossible truth. "I know you're not Fern. I know we've never shared any history. But why… why does it feel like there's always this... sense of familiarity?"
Thump, thump, thump!
I heard Diana's heartbeat suddenly quicken, and she didn't even dare to look at me directly. She gripped the papers in her hands so tightly that her fingertips turned white. What the hell was she afraid of? If she were Fern, why was she refusing to acknowledge me? But no matter what, I was determined to uncover the truth.
"Mr. Giovanni, you've probably had a long, exhausting day," she said cautiously, her voice trembling as she did her best to hide her panic. "We don't have any personal connection in our working relationship. Maybe it's just that you've been so busy lately that your mind's a little… scattered?"
I studied her, my brow furrowing slightly as doubt flickered across my mind. For a moment, I hesitated. In the end, I chose to push my suspicions aside and nodded.
"Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive," I said softly. "Go ahead and rest. We'll talk tomorrow."
Diana let out a quiet sigh of relief and nodded, making a visible effort to act as though nothing had happened before she turned and left the office.
But even a few days later, my doubts hadn't faded. I gazed out the window of my office, my thoughts a tangled mess. Diana had constantly denied being Fern, but there was something about her—her eyes, her mannerisms, her scent—that subconsciously reminded me of the woman who had once made my heart race.
But the truth, I told myself again, was that Fern was long gone, and she and her child had disappeared from my life. I hadn't seen her since that war. Still, the confusion and pain lingered in my chest.
"Maybe I'm just imagining things," I muttered under my breath as I turned back to my desk and tried to focus on work.
"Giovanni, there's an important feast tonight that you must attend." One of the clan elders, Andrew, entered the office, interrupting my thoughts.
I nodded, my gaze still distant. "Got it, Andrew. I'll be there."
But deep down, I knew that the feast might confront me with more than I was ready to face.