Chapter Text
As the Don of Passione Giorno’s marriage was a matter of concern for almost anyone. He could have basically everyone he wanted, but of course his mafiosi wanted him to marry someone of their own families. The capos were offering their sisters and daughters to him, praising their beauty, obedience and confidentiality. It was like a competition between them.
None of them were interesting to Giorno. No only because he was not interested in women at all, but Mista’s disappearance still hurt a lot. At first he had the small hope he would come back. He never did.
His capos noticed the gunman wasn’t present at the meetings anymore and started to suspect he had left. As soon as he heard the first plans to capture the dropout, Giorno knew he had to act. Whoever left the mob only did so in a coffin, so Giorno used Gold Experiences abilities to fake Mista’s death in hopes that the members believed him. When he showed up covered in blood and with a stern face, no one questioned him.
Maybe the previous rumours of the two being close, had now proven to be useful. It was easy to believe that this was a personal matter to the Don, so everyone assumed Mista to be dead. There were some who tried to uncover the truth, but they were considered to be conspiracy theorist and struggled to find similarly minded people. And if they did end up coming to close to the truth, Giorno had no problem dealing with them.
He was equally feared and admired by the members of Passione, but his status as bachelor was still a topic of discussion. The chance of having the Don marry into their family was like a price to win. So Giorno knew he had to marry someone eventually. A few months after Mista left, he noticed a new recruit and saw a young girl as his phone wallpaper. She seemed to be just a teenager and asked the new member about her. The girl was sixteen and his younger sister, who he had to care for on his own, because both their parents died not too long ago, which is why he joined the mafia. The promise of money and security had lured another victim into the inevitable demise.
“I have decided to marry his sister.” Giorno exclaimed at a meeting. He had particularly asked for this new recruit to be there. The capos seemed disappointed or shocked, that a newbie would win the favour of the boss so quickly and even though the young man seemed reluctant at first, after a few words from the men next to him, he agreed.
Her age was no problem, the pastor was easily bribed and documents could easily be tempered with, so the ceremony was planned for the next month, without bride and groom ever meeting. The first kiss in front of the altar was nothing more than a quick peck and yet Giorno could still taste the saltiness the tears had left behind. He felt sorry for the girl, but he told himself that she was better off like this, than being married to another capo, who probably had worse intentions than him. During the whole ride home, the ring felt cold on Giorno’s finger, burning into his skin like frostbite.
As soon as the door shut behind the freshly wed pair, Giorno turned around. “Listen, I can offer you a safe life, away from all of Passione’s business, your wishes shall all be fulfilled. The only thing I ask you to do, is to not leave this house. Do not talk to anyone, including your brother. If you have to do so, do not tell him about this arrangement. If you agree, he entire left wing of this house is yours. I won’t ask anything else of you, other than to pretend to anyone who does talk to you that we are happily married. Do you understand?”
The girl has listened to him with wide eyes and nodded eventually.
“So we have a deal?” Giorno held his hand out for her to grasp it. She stared at it for a second, before taking it and they shook on their deal. After showing his wife around the house and explaining which rooms were hers and which area of the house belonged to him alone, he excused himself and went into his bedroom.
After closing the door behind him, Giorno looked down on his hands. There it was, on his left hand. A simple platinum ring adorned his fourth finger. And yet Giorno felt nothing, his heart was as cold as the metal and as empty as the inside as it had been the last weeks.
This ring was so very different from the ring in his nightstand drawer. Below books, pills and other utensils the ring still lay in the box Mista had left it in. Walking over, Giorno pulled it out and looked at it again. It was a warm gold and the engravings were carefully placed. Just seeing it, filled Giorno with so many emotions, it felt like a fresh wound being ripped open. But he had to do this. Giorno rummaged through his drawer more until he found what he was looking for. An old necklace was carelessly thrown into it, so Giorno unclamped it, slid the simple pendant off to throw back into the drawer and pulled the necklace through the ring.
If he had to wear a fake ring, he would carry a real ring too, so he put the necklace on and placed the ring under his shirt, feeling the metal touching his skin, just over his heart.
Time went by like this, Giorno was officially married and his private life was kept out of his business, so his capos knew better than to ask him about it. For all they knew Giorno liked to keep things to himself.
As time went on, Giorno had to realize that the life as Passiones Don had more downsides than anticipated. Sure, he never had to worry about money and his political influence plus his stand ability made him into one of the most powerful men in Italy whose ties through Europe guaranteed him even more power. But he was a superstar that could not be seen, a light source, hiding in the shadows, constantly aware of the possible threats not only from the outside, but from within his own organisation. His birthdays had became meaningless, as he had experience more in over 10 years as the boss, than others would in their entire life.
Giorno was tired. He had started to rely on Fugo more and more just to carry out usual business. Polnareff also helped, but due to his physical form, he was more of an advisor to both Giorno and Fugo.
So Giorno was tired and it started to show. “Don’t you think you should take a break?” Fugo asked, when he was over for dinner. “Polnareff and I have been discussing this. You’re clearly tired and need to get your mind off things. Passione is looking pretty stable right now and you haven’t had a free week since -“
“I don’t need a break.” Giorno said. He knew exactly when his last holiday had been. Which is why he refused to go on another. “Am I supposed to just drive somewhere alone just to relax? I don’t see how I can’t do that here already.” Giorno motioned around. “This place is better than a five star hotel, so why would I travel, just for relaxation, when I have everything I need here.”
Fugo groaned. “It’s not about physical relaxation. Well, that too, but mentally. How can you relax when you’re in the same place you work from? That’s why you should go somewhere. Maybe take you Maria with you. She seems nice enough and you wouldn’t be alone.”
“Why would I take her with me?” Giorno questioned, raising his eyebrows.
“Maybe because she is your wife and you two have never done anything together?”
At that Giorno gritted his teeth. “She’s only my wife on paper. And you know exactly why I married her. You know that if I could have I would have married-“
He stopped as he saw Maria in the door frame. “Good evening. Do you want to eat together with us?” The young woman shook her head. She had just been a girl, when she moved in and even though she had grown a lot, her demeanour often still reminded Giorno of the scared girl that stood at the altar.
“I was done eating anyway, feel free to take my seat.” Fugo spoke, before turning to Giorno and continuing quieter, but with clear intent in his voice: “Just think about it Giorno. I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’re the hope of this organization. And the only one I have left, so please take care of yourself.”
The last part almost sounded like a threat, but for a good reason. He had really the only last remaining member of Bucciaratis old team and no matter how much it hurt Giorno to accept that, it must hurt Fugo way more.
His friend and advisor had stood up and was now next to Giorno, placing a hand on his shoulder. His next words were spoken soft and quietly. “I also think a vacation would help you finally come to terms with what happened with Mista. You’ve got to find a way to heal this Giorno. It’s hurting you.”
Giorno said nothing and just looked on his empty plate. He heard footsteps, rustling and the door opening and closing. Then in front of him he heard more footsteps and looked up. Maria had come back and was cleaning Fugo’s side of the table. This was nothing unusual as Maria had accepted her role in Giorno’s life and basically became his housekeeper. “You don’t need to do that.” Giorno said, feeling guilty for his earlier words. “I never told you to do it. It’s not your job.” Maria smiled and shook her head. “I don’t mind doing this. It’s my way of showing gratitude.”
Giorno scoffed. “For what? Forcing you into marriage when you’re underage? Making you lied to everyone? Cutting your ties with your brother.” Giorno must have had more of the wine than he thought. This was already one of the longer conversations the married couple has had.
“I know you didn’t want to marry me. You still don’t. I didn’t know why you would still do it at first. And why me. But I think I get it now.I don’t judge you. It’s probably not easy being in your position. But when I heard that my brother was marrying the daughter of his capo I understood what was going on. So I want to thank you for it. My brother is not a bad man, but he does not think too much about the consequences of his actions. I don’t really recognise him too much anymore, but that’s fine. I guess all he wanted was for me to be safe, and I am, so now he can be free and be who he wants to be.”
The woman had sat on the chair opposite of Giorno. “I respect you a lot, Giorno Giovanna. I will forever be thankful for what you did for me. But want you to be free too. Maybe going somewhere else for some time is not the worst idea.”
She placed her hand on Giorno’s. Their rings touching and she gave the young Don an encouraging smile. All this time Giorno had thought nothing of his wife, seen her as just the means to an end. But she was a real person and suddenly the old Giorno started to crack through the hard mask of the stone cold boss. The Giorno with a dream, with hopes, the wish to protect the innocent and the one who had friends he’d do anything for, friends he would not want to suffer. He realized that those people still existed, that their emotions had not changed and they were worried. And it was not just Fugo and Polnareff, but it was one of the innocent life’s he had sworn to protect that he was hurting now and that he was putting in potential danger by overworking himself.
Giorno sighed. He pulled his hand back and rubbed it over his eyes. “Where would you suggest to go? It’s not like I can go just anywhere. People know me. Even if they don’t, if I show up with my guards, they will know something is up.”
Maria’s eyes started to glow. “Trust me, I know just the place, if you go without your guards.” She quickly ran off into her room and came back just as Giorno had finished cleaning up the table.
In her hands was a single post card. “My friend sent me this three years ago.” Giorno narrowed his eyes, but Maria quickly continued. “I know I should not have told her my address and I asked her not to send anything, but she still did, because she was excited to try out these custom postcards. I called her after the card arrived and she promised never to send anything again. She also deleted the address from her phone book. But during that phone call, she told me about her vacation. It’s a beautiful farm, up in the Alps. No one lives around there, just the mountains, the animals and the farm personnel. I doubt any of them would recognise you or even less be able to find you. Some of them don’t even speak Italian.”
That did sound like a great option if Giorno decided to go, but he was still unsure what he could gain from travelling all the way out there. “May I see the postcard?” Maria nodded and handed it to him. Giorno quickly scanned the text, nothing irregular, just the standard reports, people wrote on cards like these. So he turned it around to see the front. A family of three was posing next to what looked like a barn, all smiling happily into the camera, the child forming a peace sign with her hands. In the background large mountains with snow on top contrasted against the piercing blue sky. Behind the family was another person, slightly out of frame, carrying something. Giorno guessed it was probably one of the farm workers, judging by the rugged apparel. The face was not in focus, but sharp enough, that Giorno could make out some facial features. The hair was hidden underneath a cap, but his eyes were dark. Very dark. Maybe it was just the shading, Giorno told himself, but he couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster. Maybe there were also other people with almost pitch black eyes. But when his eyes scanned the man more, he noticed the small splash of colour on the man’s neck, just on the junction of his shoulder. It was too small to make out exactly what it was, but the size and rough shape- No. Giorno told himself.
There was no way.
Maybe this was another person with dark eyes and a star tattoo. Surely, there must be hundreds of people like that.
But the longer Giorno stared at the picture, the body shape, his posture, the tattoo and those dark eyes, the more the thought ingrained itself into Giorno’s heart: There was a chance. A chance that he could see Mista again. That this man with the tattoo and the black eyes and blinding smile was indeed Guido Mista.
Giorno’s voice felt shaky, as did his legs, but he managed to maintain a level of calm. “Do you think you can ask your friend for the telephone number. I would like to look at this place. I may travel there for a week and see if it helps in anyway.” Giorno was not sure if it would help his stress, going there, because he felt a lot more stressful in this moment than before. But Fugo said he should get closure on Mista and this could be it. Even if the chances were slim, Giorno had to take them.
“I already asked for their number, I could arrange everything for you, if you want to.”
“That would be lovely. Please tell them I want to be alone, so if that means I will have to pay more money, so they can cancel their other guests, I am willing to do that.” Giorno handed the photo back to Maria. “Thank you for doing this for me, and I general: Thank you. I will go to bed now. Good night Maria. I will see you at breakfast.” And with legs, that felt like they could give in any moment Giorno made his way into his bedroom. He shut the door and let himself fall into the mattress.
It was weird. He felt vulnerable. For the first time in years, he felt vulnerable again. Vulnerable, scared, nervous and a little bit hopeful.
As Giorno was getting ready for bed, he told himself that this trip would be helpful. It had to be. Even if this was just a random man, it might help him.
Maybe it just helped him to accept that Mista was gone. This was certainly the most likely outcome. Surely he had overreacted and the man was not Mista. There was no way, that someone trained and skilled like him would be careless enough to put himself in danger of being found so easily.
And although Giorno spent all the time brushing his hair and teeth and changing into his pyjamas, trying not get his hopes up, his treacherous heart held on. It took the idea, that this was indeed his lost love, just waiting to be found again by Giorno and buried it deep inside itself, so that when Giorno finally pulled the duvet up, to sleep, there was still this spark of hope in his chest, alive and flickering.