~Antonio
Two Weeks Later
I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, watching as water dripped from my face, sliding down my jaw before splattering into the sink. My hair was soaked, slicked back from the shower I just took, and my eyes—my damn eyes—stared back at me, haunted, tired, and carrying a weight that wasn’t even mine.
With a steadying breath, I reached for the contact lenses sitting on the counter. I popped them in one by one, blinking a few times as my vision adjusted. My natural eye color was gone, replaced by the cold, sharp gaze of Giovianni.
This was my life now.
Pretending. Lying. Living a life that wasn’t mine while the real Giovianni lay in a hospital bed, trapped between life and death.
I ran a hand through my hair, slicking it back the way Giovian
