Bloody Golden Butterfly - EskarinaSforza, Foenix8 - ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken (2024)

Chapter 1: Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

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At the age of twelve, the blood of Dio Brando awakened within him. With it, his hair changed and he also manifested a Stand, his whole world turning from dark to gold. At fifteen, he acquired the most powerful Stand of all and took control of Passione. With Italy's underworld under his grip and more power than he knew what to do with, the problems of normal adolescence such as school, puberty, and other bodily changes remained far from the forefront of his mind.

Bigger, taller, golden, and more powerful every day, other gangsters long since stopped laughing when they heard that the Don of Passione was a teenager. When a priest contacted him out of the blue, he didn't find it strange. They were in Italy and these kinds of people were not outside the contacts of the mafia. Enrico Pucci's arrival did not surprise Giorno in the least.

From the priest, he learned a few unexpected, world-shattering pieces of information. The first was that his father had been a vampire; along with this revelation, he also learned of the Joestar family's existence and their role in his father's demise.

The second was that he had several living brothers.

And lastly, the third was that his father's blood would turn each of his sons into dhampirs when they grew up.

"Embrace that power. It wouldn't do you good to reject it," Pucci had advised him.

To that, Gold Experience Requiem had materialized beside him and asked the priest if he seemed to be someone lacking in power. The priest's eyes shined and his tone almost changed to one of reverence. He informed Giorno that he had already encountered his brothers, but he was the first that Pucci saw as truly worthy of Dio's legacy. Even if Giorno did not want to accept it, he would still receive it with open arms when the time came.

"You're the heir of DIO, I have no doubt about that. My faith in Lord DIO was strong, as strong as your powers. Come to me when you are ready, young master. I will be awaiting you with your family."

Going with him was something Giorno didn't even think worth considering, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious about his brothers and the Joestars. He recalled that young Japanese man who he had stolen from at the tender age of 15, who'd also assisted him in taking down Black Sabbath during his trial into Passione. The man had put him in contact with the Speedwagon Foundation; he supposed that if he looked for them, he could find them. And he did just that. This time, however, it was not the nice, short Japanese man who paid him a visit.

This man happened to also be Japanese, but that's where the similarities ended. Giorno had admittedly gotten used to intimidating people with his tall stature, but unbelievably, the envoy actually had a few inches on him. And he was most certainly not friendly or cheerful.

"Dr. Kujo, welcome to Rome," he greeted him in perfect English. "Imagine my surprise when I heard that one of the directors had come personally. Please, have a seat."

"It shouldn't really come as a surprise when you're the one who reached out to us," Dr. Kujo replied harshly. "Hirose told me you could be trusted, Mr. Giovanna. And yet I hear that you're the boss of the Italian mafia?"

"Signore Hirose was correct. But indeed, I am the boss of the Italian mafia."

"Then you'll understand when I say it's difficult to trust you—to believe that you're not like your father in these circ*mstances or that you don't deserve the same ending," Dr. Kujo said in a cold tone. "But I want to believe in Koichi, and I'd rather not repeat what I had to do to your father."

Gold Experience Requiem manifested itself protectively behind its master. Like always, its substantial power filled the room, but that didn't seem to faze Dr. Kujo much. His green eyes were piercing, their depths seeming to convey promises of his end or something even worse. A fate worse than death—Giono should know. Despite GER's invincibility, an imperceptible chill crawled down Giorno's spine.

"When I was 17, my mother came down with a deadly illness because of your father. I traveled with my grandfather and some friends to Egypt to deal with him. During that time, he murdered a lot of innocent people. I killed him because he was a monster that stole the body of my great-great-grandfather and his existence only brought pain and suffering to every soul, innocent or not, that crossed in his path. Are you like your father, Mr. Giovanna?"

"The only thing I know about my father is... this." He took out an old photo from his wallet. The man in the photo was DIO, the scar around his neck distinguishing him from the body of Jonathan Joestar. "I don't want to be like my father, not only because he was a monster—that is, if I choose to believe you—but also because I never even knew him. And if what you say is indeed true, then I don't want to know more. I want to clean the streets of drugs, and for this, I need the power of Passione. Someone said to me once that the Joestars are my blood relatives. But now, after meeting you, I know that I'm better off without a family, as has always been the case."

If speaking honestly, the meeting was... awful, but Dr. Kujo granted him permission to call the SWF any time. If he was a son of Jonathan Joestar, then he had a right to. While years passed before Giorno thought of Jotaro Kujo again, his long-lost brothers crossed his mind every now and then. He couldn't help but think of his own childhood, his stepfather's beatings and his mother's neglect, and connect his experience to what he imagined was theirs. Had they had better luck with finding a family, or had they lived like him, feeling nothing until the day he met Bruno?

Passione was his family now, and Mista and Fugo were a better family than his mother or his stepfather had ever been. Heck, even Abbacchio had been a better father figure than his stepfather. He often thought about Bruno too. He knew that much of what he had done was abominable but necessary and he didn't regret most of it, but the death of Bruno Bucciarati brought a stab of guilt he couldn't get rid of.

But he was a busy man, and he didn't even have time to get sick. Well, until he did one day. As if the priest's words were a prophecy, the day before his twentieth birthday, he was overtaken by a strange fever that even GER seemed to have no control over. Perhaps it would have been more traumatic if it hadn't been expected. His skin looked paler and his teeth were slightly more pointed, but at least the sun didn't kill him. He noticed that he was no longer feeling as pleasant as before, but the feeling was far from killing him.

He had three options on deck.

The first was to keep from talking to anyone outside and to seek everything he could by his own means. It was only unfortunate that Passione's great power and means didn't extend to supernatural knowledge.

The second option was to seek the Speedwagon Foundation, a group that had top experts in these matters. He recalled Dr. Kujo's icy eyes as he spoke about killing his father, not bothered by how he might feel. Well, he was the mob boss, Don Giovanna; it shouldn't matter to him.

The final option was the priest. The one who had met his father and claimed to be with the rest of his family, the one who had invited him to embrace his destiny.

The phone number was long, as was anyone's on an international call; more than enough numbers to regret and to stop dialing. But the resolve that used to fill his spirit was unwavering. On the other end of the line, the priest was more than happy to answer his call.

Chapter 2: Coraline

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When Jolyne was a little girl, her parents were the center of her world. Her mother was sweet but strict, having her husband completely wrapped around her finger. As for the man himself... Children commonly fought over their parents being the strongest, but she was sure that in her case, it couldn't be more true.

While her mother's side of the family was ordinary like most other children's, her father's side was special. Although he and Jolyne carried the surname Kujo, they both hailed from the Joestar clan; they even had a star-shaped birthmark to match, along with all the other family members within the bloodline. Her mother explained to her that her family descended from a line of English nobility, and for her that meant being a kind of princess.

Sometimes she would visit her dad's grandparents. Great-grandpa Joseph was a kind old giant of a man who told the best stories. Her great-grandma Suzie Q. was great, too; she spoke a very funny language at times and gave her tons of delicious food.

Shizuka, her great-grandparents' adopted daughter and her favorite cousin, was much younger than her, but it was really fun to play with her. Everybody in her family was so old while Shizu was just a child like her, so she understood her. They played magical mermaids together often like normal girls. Jolyne didn't like hide and seek much though; for some reason, she was never able to find her cousin in a single one of their games.

One day, her mom and dad explained to her that they were no longer going to continue living together. Jolyne knew that Dad had to travel a lot for work, but she didn't understand then that it meant he wouldn't be coming home anymore. Jolyne knew that Dad loved her, she was sure of it. But as she saw him less and less, her little heart harbored more and more doubts.

She remembered the vacations in Morioh, that town in Japan, the country where her father was born and where Grandma Holy had lived until she got divorced and moved in with Great-grandpa Joseph. Jolyne hardly understood what the local people around were saying because they had only taught her a few words, but she still managed to have a good time.

Gruncle Josuke—she thoughtgrand unclewas too long—was wonderful and healed like nobody else when she hurt herself while playing. His friend with the strange face was very funny too. She didn't like his short friend much, though she did not know why.

Everyone had warned her that Gruncle Josuke's green-haired eccentricfriend-who-was-not-a-friendwas probably going to be mean to her, but he was the one who spoke English the best and gave her helpful drawing advice, not to mention he was very handsome too. She threw a tantrum when her dad told her that the butterfly and sword drawing he had made on her arm would eventually fade since it wasn't a real tattoo, and she wouldn't be appeased until he took a picture of it for her.

She later learned that Shizu had also been born in that town, so it didn't seem like a bad place.

Jolyne missed her dad, but at least she saw him during vacations and talked to him via phone calls. He would also send her gifts occasionally. Even if they were dolls and things that she really didn't care for anymore, it was good to know that he remembered her.

Her favorite of all the presents were two goldfish. Her dad told her that their scientific name wasCarassius auratusand explained thatauratusmeant golden, so she had named them Caraso and Golden. When Gruncle Josuke told her that they reminded him of the name of his favorite album,The Gold Experience, her fish were renamed Caraso Experience and Gold Experience. Whenever she gazed at the fish tank while missing her dad, Mom told her that she would explain things to her when she became a big girl, that daddy still loves her even though he couldn't stay with them.

One day when she was 13 years old, she was told that Great-grandpa Joseph had passed away and Great-grandma Suzie and Grandma Holy were moving with Shizu to Japan. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye, nor could she travel to see them anymore. From that day onward, it was as if her dad had erased himself from the face of the earth. He called from time to time, but they were more check-ups rather than real conversations. At first, she thought her dad was very sad too, but as more time passed, she realized that he no longer cared. She stopped hoping and begging for affection.

Her mom, being the amazing woman she was, tried to fill the gap that her dad had left. Jolyne knew that there were many girls her age who were fatherless too, so she really shouldn't have anything to complain about. But she'd lost too many family members in one fell swoop, and it hurt more to have lost something than to never have had it at all. To make matters worse, her maternal grandparents passed away that same year as well. Thus, Jolyne went from having a huge family to having no one but her mom.

With no relatives left in the vicinity, when her mom got a better job offer in Florida, they didn't hesitate too much to take up the offer and make the move. It had never been difficult for Jolyne to make friends, but suddenly being away from familiar surroundings made her feel confused, scared, and so very alone. She didn't like the other girls, though apparently, boys liked her enough... The other girls liked her even less.

When Caraso Experience died, Jolyne didn't cry. It was normal, goldfish did not live for many years. Her mother quickly bought another, and there was still Gold Experience too. She made sure to take extra care of him, keeping him under her attentive eye.

No friends? She didn't care. There were always guys willing to hang out with her. She didn't care about anything; she told herself this every day. Everyone was an idiot, and she had no time for idiots.

But then one day she came home from high school to find Gold Experience floating lifelessly in his tank. He was just a stupid fish, it's not like she cared. She stared at the last remnants of her childhood for longer than necessary.

Sometimes in the solitude of her bedroom, she thought that maybe it wasn't so much that others were idiots, but rather, there was just something wrong with her. Other girls had friends and not just boys who tried to touch her where they shouldn't. She wondered if she was the only person her GRANDMA didn't want to hear from. Alone in her room when she was sure that her mom wasn't listening, her inner demons were the only ones accompanying her as she cried till she couldn't anymore.

When her eyes and throat had dried up and the sniffles had ended, she wiped her face, braided her hair, and put on makeup while telling her reflection that none of it mattered. She was strong, she had to be. She couldn't let her mom see all the emptiness that was forming in her chest, a hole having formed there after everything was torn from her. But, she thought, as she finished caking her face in makeup, she was strong and would carry on even if her heart bled from the inside out.

Chapter 3: Starchild

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Florida, 2006

Giorno could have taken a private jet, but he didn't want to attract unnecessary attention. To his relief, the first-class seating for the trip from Rome to Florida wasn’t uncomfortable in any shape or form. It wasn't his first time traveling outside of Italy; in fact, he wasn’t even born there. It was his first time traveling this far all on his own, however. It was practically impossible for him to get lost, with how well-prepared Fugo had been, giving him all that he needed for the trip. He wasn’t afraid of something possibly happening to him either, not while having G.E.R. with him. Still, for some unknown reason, he felt a certain unease and a bit out of his field.

They had been very close to tying Mista up in order to prevent him from following as a bodyguard. As if he needed one. More than anything, he really needed to do this alone. Leaving the gunman in command to look after Passione while he was gone was a risky decision, but it ensured that he wouldn’t dare follow.

Giorno wasn’t too keen on the idea of visiting the priest in his clergy house, preferring to stay in a hotel, but he desperately needed to know all that he could about his body’s mysterious new condition, what it all consisted of and whether it was reversible. And there was a part of him that thirsted to know more about his brothers too. In order to get to know them, he was willing to make sacrifices, such as enduring the Florida climate. Or Florida food. Or the Floridians themselves.

Damn, most of these people came from civilized parts of the world, from within the same country even. Had the heat caused them to forget how to act like civilized humans?

His final stop looked as normal as a priest's house could be. Being a member of the mob, Giorno had been to quite a few and the air of familiarity within such a different environment gave him chills. He wondered if the priest was trying to make an effort to make him feel at home, or if he had just done it because it might have been to DIO’s liking. Or maybe priests' houses were the same all over the world, not that he had visited any others in Florida, nor was he interested in doing that kind of tourism.

The first red flag was raised when Pucci only introduced him to Donatello, neglecting to bring forth his other two brothers to meet him. His half-brother, the second eldest after him, was also blond, his hair tied in a short ponytail at the back, and almost as tall. A handsome young man, he may have seemed more charismatic if he didn't exude so much contempt for everyone. Giorno had come with some flowery delusions at the prospect of meeting his siblings, but Donatello shattered those from the get-go.

While the priest seemed to seethe with excitement at Giorno potentially joining them, Donatello glared daggers at him the whole time. It didn't take long for him to make it clear that even though Giorno was older and came from a better position than him, he was going to fight for his position as DIO’s heir.

Giorno still didn’t trust the priest, but he had to acknowledge that his words had only rang true so far. If his brother’s increasingly pale complexion and visible perspiration were any indications, his dhampyr transformation seemed to have been triggered as soon as Giorno had arrived, proving that this was a phenomenon that only the sons of Dio were experiencing. Apparently, growth hormones were involved, and having someone else like him around accelerated the process. Unfortunately, a faster process also meant it was more painful; it didn't help gain him any sympathy from Donatello. Perhaps this was why he wasn’t allowed to meet the other two yet.

Technically, Donatello was his younger brother, so he tried to think of him as such. His thoughts couldn’t help but briefly trail over to Narancia; although he had been older than Giorno, he was like a little brother.

Being a word games lover, in a moment of thoughtlessness, Giorno mentioned the Florida Man game to his newfound brother—that game where you search up your birthday along with 'Florida Man' and come up with wacky news headlines.

Not only was Donatello not amused, but he even looked a bit offended, as he was a Florida man himself. For Giorno, reading people was normally a piece of cake, but it was as if the whole family affair had nullified his IQ to the point of making him once again feel like a lost young man and not a powerful Stand user and mob boss. There was certainly something about Donatello's deal that reminded him of family, but seeing as Giorno was mistreated during his childhood, that couldn’t really be considered a good thing.

“f*cking Italian,” he thought he heard Donatello spit out under his breath. His tight grimace may have been in part due to the pain he was experiencing and not just the nuisance he found Giorno to be.

It’s not like Giorno wasn’t used to being dealt such cold treatment; his own stepfather had treated him horribly until he’d managed to move to the school dormitories. In a way, he had suffered very similarly upon first joining Passione, whether it was the fight with Bruno, the attack by Polpo, or even Abbacchio’s cheap hazing. But the difference was clear; his stepfather would have been riled up by anyone who dared consume his money, even if it was to eat, while Bruno had only been doing his job and Polpo in kind with the initiation test. As for Abbacchio... Well, though he must admit that his beginnings with him were not the most pleasant, he had come to understand the ex-cop. He could say without any shame that he missed him to this day.

It was apparent that Donatello hated him to the bones. As Giorno tried to obtain all the information he could from the priest without falling into his manipulations, it seemed to him that Donatello was in the same boat, only he was much better at pretending to be under the priest’s spell.

Pucci dropped the long-anticipated pieces of information little by little, much of which Giorno already knew based on his own experimentation. He confirmed that he was not incapacitated under the sun, though he still had to protect himself as someone with very pale skin. He wondered if having a house full of dhampyres in Florida, with its tropical climate, was even practical; it would be a better idea to do as the Cullens did in that popular novel, Twilight, that he had picked up in a vain attempt at searching for useful information on his condition. Failed attempts at research aside, he actually ended up being hooked to the story.

The results of his experiments back in Rome had also shown that he only needed a little blood to sustain himself and that he could do so almost without any problem with G.E.R. Normal food served him quite well too.

Days’ worth of long sermons passed on through the priest’s mouth about his father's greatness before he finally had something useful to say to him.

“Vampires have become near-extinct, but there is something that was able to give your father full power, as it could now do for you too—the blood of the Joestars.”

Dr. Kujo's face popped into his mind. He couldn't imagine biting that man without ending up toothless. He was the same man who had managed to assassinate his powerful father, after all, so he couldn’t just very well reach out and curb his neck.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Pucci began talking about other Joestars. There was also the elderly Joseph Joestar, who lived with his wife and two daughters. The younger daughter was barely past the toddler age and could have passed off for his own granddaughter; surely, the product of an adventure. But she could serve them just as well, in addition to his eldest daughter. They knew the family lived in New York, but it didn't seem like a whole lot of information. The city was too big for it to be of any use to them.

“New York, I see,” Donatello muttered.

Giorno didn't pay much attention to him, something he would come to deeply regret later. The next day, Donatello was gone.

Seeing his shock and panic, Pucci smilingly told him that gravity could work on his brother. Giorno was fed up with the priest's speeches about gravity and other nonsense. He was more worried about the fact that there were people in real danger because of his brother. He pulled out all contacts; luckily, there were other gangsters in New York with whom Passione had contact and that could help him. He took a private flight, leaving a mound of favors to owe in his wake.

It’s not like he particularly cared for the Joestars or anything, but he couldn't be so useless that he couldn't even save an older man and his daughters. They weren't part of any mafia organization nor part of the plans of a psychopath with a god-complex like his father. They simply had the misfortune to be born into a family targeted by monsters. As of now, he couldn't see Pucci as anything but a monster, just like his father, even though he preserved humanity. The word 'useless' began to appear with great insistence in his mind, the very same one his Stand shouted.

He soon came upon the Joestars’ place and sensed Stand power at play as he approached the area. The power somehow reminded him of his own, only it was the other side of the coin.

Donatello's power tasted like death.

He started to have the sinking feeling that he could have traced his brother even without having acquired Joseph Joestar's address beforehand. He didn’t yet know what his brother's power was, but what he was certain of was that it was terrifying. The house’s security had fallen, and there were even some dead policemen lying on the ground. He hadn't been fast enough. He hadn't been enough. He hadn't been helpful. Useless. Useless. Useless.

As he went deeper, he was able to find some men who were still alive but on the throes of death. He used G.E.R. to make quick work of their injuries. The pain they had to endure might be unbearable, but there was no time to feel pity. Either he was quick and cruel, or he let them die.

The following scene couldn’t have really been unexpected, but the events would ingrain themselves in Giorno and prey on his mind for years to come. Donatello stood in the center of the room, his hand around a terrified little girl’s neck. Behind them was a frail old lady who was trying desperately to hold an unconscious woman. There was also another Stand user, a young man with a pompadour; Giorno didn’t recall any mention of him from Pucci. The young man had his hands full dealing with what seemed to be part of Mr. Joestar's security team.

Seeing him appear, Donatello flashed his teeth into a brief smile before biting the girl’s wrist mercilessly. His teeth were now sharpened to the point where they could tear through skin, reaching bone.

Giorno directed his Stand against him, but despite his speed, he did not have time to intervene. Some kind of purple vine caught on Donatello's leg almost out of nowhere, wrenching the girl from his arms. She landed in the young man’s embrace, who sealed the potentially life-threatening wound in a pink glow.

"You can keep the girl. She's clearly not a Joestar," Donatello said, spitting out some of the blood he had drawn from her.

"I thought we were done with all of you back in Switzerland," said the old man with a tired smile as Donatello roughly grabbed him by his collar. "But if a Joestar is what you’re looking for, leave my daughters and take my blood instead. You’re not the first leech to try it."

"You don't have to ask me, old man."

"You know, there was once someone who was in a very similar situation to mine and they did all that they could without hesitation. Josuke, I love you. Suzie, love of my life, tell our daughters that I will always love them." The old man looked at Donatello and smiled before saying, "The next thing you're going to say is 'shut up and die, old man'."

"Shut up and die, old man." When he realized that he had predicted the words, it only angered him, and even more so when he realized that he was wrapped in some kind of bramble.

He was lucky that New York was a violent city; his Underworld had plenty of material to work.

Some slaves controlled by Underworld tossed Joseph to him. The old man’s neck seemed to be on the verge of breaking at any moment, but Donatello did not care. He only wanted his blood. Just when he was about to bite, he heard an almost dying whisper for 'overdrive'.

It wasn't like sunlight could kill him, but concentrated Hamon was another story. This burst of Hamon was all the life force in Joseph Joestar's body. The star birthmark used to mark a tragic but honorable end for them, and Joseph was willing to have one like that. He was old and he didn't mind dying if he could save his own, just as he hadn't cared when he was much younger. 'I almost died twice now, but I guess third is the charm. At least I'll go down saving the ones I love. Soon I'll be with you, Granny Erina, Speedwagon, Caesar...Avdol...Kakyoin…'

As the life left Joseph Joestar, Underworld was so damaged that it shut down.

Donatello was badly wounded himself, but he had gotten a few drops of Joseph’s blood. Seeing Giorno come after him, he manifested his stand one more time with stubborn determination in a last-ditch effort to intercept him and escape. Underworld recreated a shooting to trap Giorno.

Giorno expected Gold Experience Requiem to launch a counter-attack on his brother, but for the first time in his life, his Stand failed to go after the user. Underworld’s ability to recreate memories from the past to be used against others seemed to not count as a direct stand attack, thus not warranting Gold Experience Requiem’s automatic involvement. A smirk stretched across Donatello’s previously terrified face, but it quickly filled with astonishment when the shooters he’d manifested flickered and died out due to an unseen force. Gold Experience Requiem and Underworld stood at a distance from each other, neither able to do anything to the other with their abilities.

If Gold Experience was life, then Underworld was death. To cast with each other was to cancel each other out. Realizing this, Donatello did the only thing he could do: create chaos in his wake and lose himself in the crowd, relying on his brother's weakness to help the injured.

Giorno was caught between trying to save the old man or giving chase to his brother. No, he corrected himself, that monster was not his brother.

The young man with the pompadour looked at him without any familiarity. Apparently, he also had an ability that allowed him to heal, for the old man’s neck wound disappeared before his very eyes. But it was too late. No Stand could bring back the dead. Giorno made his own attempts, but it only resulted in flowers blooming on the dead man’s body. Up close, he couldn’t help but notice how eerily similar those unseeing eyes were to his own. In the backdrop of soft sobs and wails, he mercifully closed them.

“Who are you?” the young man croaked, numb with shock. Giorno recalled the name the late Mr. Joestar had referred to him by.

“My name is Giorno Giovanna, and the vermin who did this is one of Dio's sons, just like me. However, I want to stop them. You must take all the Joestars, including the old man's daughters, away from here. May Jotaro Kujo protect them. And if there is someone else out there with Joestar blood, it would be safer for them if you don’t try anything, as he and the cazzo priest do not know of anyone else."

"Why should I trust you, a son of Dio? Your brother just killed my father," Josuke said. His startling big blue eyes, mayhaps once innocent, were now filled with pain and rage.

"Don't ever refer to him as my brother," he said in a deadly serious tone. The Don was used to people addressing him in anger and pain. "I didn't even know he was your father, and honestly, the less I know, the better. I’m the only one who doesn't want the Joestars dead or for Donatello to gain more power. You don't have to trust that I want what’s good for you, but I assure you, more than anything, I want to stop that monster. I will try to catch him, and if one day I succeed, I will inform Jotaro Kujo. Until then, hide your Joestar identity. If he ever learns that you exist, you’ll be in danger too."

Chaos had overtaken the city, and there was talk of an attack. At least Giorno had Donatello's power almost completely figured out. He suppressed a shiver when thinking about his failure to put him in a punishment loop. He supposed that a time where Gold Experience Requiem met his weakness had to come at some point. There truly was no such thing as an all-invincible Stand.

His overreliance on Requiem had created room for weakness, which inevitably led to his uselessness. Never again.

Of course, he couldn't find Enrico Pucci when he returned to Florida. It didn't matter that he trashed the house or that he tried to make what he thought were the priest's personal belongings fly to him. He was gone. After sending professionals to search the house, only to find nothing, he ordered it to be demolished regardless of the cost. Shortly after, he flew back to Italy, but that did not mean that he was giving up. If he had to build up Passione even further to leave them no part of the world to hide in, that is exactly what he would do.

Giorno Giovanna had a goal, and he was determined to achieve it.

Chapter 4: Runaway

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Being away from home for a time when your job is to control the largest criminal empire in the country did not make things calmer on the way back despite the fact that hardly anyone had found out about Don Giovanna’s absence. He finally began to understand Diavolo and his habit of not having meetings in person. In addition to being a psychotic bastard, the amount of time that people could steal from him with authentic nonsense was incredible.

Feeling stressed, he decided to take a relaxing bath, only to find that nothing had changed; he simply went from being stressed at his desk to being stressed in the bathtub. At least it was pleasant, full of bath salts and dried flower petals that he himself had bred to be especially fragrant. His bathroom was very luxurious, with the bathtub even having a hydromassage option that he helped himself to.

The last notes of twilight light filtered through the Murano glass worked with a filigree of exquisite colors. Candlelight flickered while the notes of recorded piano music echoed with the acoustics of the marble bathroom. The scented water was doing its best to relax his muscles, and it was so effective that he forgot to not dip his blond curls into the water as well.

When he had gotten tired of fixing unforeseen events, he had announced to Fugo and Mista that he would be taking a relaxing bath. Mista told him that he did not understand how he could relax that way. He supposed their little idyll attempt a couple of years ago had failed precisely because of this, because they were so different. Giorno believed in body care, including facial care routines, but above all, hygiene. Hygiene was a bit more liberal in Mista's case; it wouldn't have worked out.

Inadvertently, he thought again of the scene Donatello had caused. In the moment of desperation, he had told the Joestars to hide without even asking them where they planned to go. Now he realized that it had not been the best of his ideas. Perhaps now he could speak with them calmly and even set a trap for the monsters, but of course, it had not been the right time back then, with the corpse of Joseph Joestar still warm in front of them. He had underestimated Donatello too much, and other people had paid with their lives for his mistake.

Thinking about it now, when all was already done and over it, maybe he should have just called the Speedwagon Foundation as soon as he had learned of the danger. He had been too arrogant, thinking that he could arrive in time before Donatello, or that Gold Experience Requiem could overpower him as it had always done with the others before him. But he hadn't wanted anything to do with the Foundation ever since Dr. Kujo had threatened to kill him ruthlessly if he so much as looked like his father or turned into a vampire. Not that he was afraid of the man, but he didn't want to work with him under such circ*mstances.

He was usually good at making quick decisions in times of crisis, but this time he had felt too useless. Useless. His stepfather's voice was coming back to his head like a migraine. He decided the water was getting cold and it was a good time to get out.

Tonight, he was going to have dinner with the trusted members of the gang, which of course included Trish. The surviving members. The priest's words about the vampiric powers of resurrection came to mind. Every day, he felt more and more lost; only Bruno Bucciarati had been able to exercise a reliable guide in his life. He needed him even more than he had the day he died. He had deluded himself into believing he could handle anything, but he felt younger and more inexperienced than when he was just a goal-minded teenager. But at the same time, he felt old and tired, 200-years-old instead of 20.

He dressed without much haste. That day they would be hosting the dinner at home for his own comfort. Sure, the humility of his comfortable attire was like that of his home.

Wrapped in a Versace robe customized with his name, part of a gift package the designer Donatella herself had sent him, he headed for the closet. Since becoming the Don, he wore black a lot in public, but at home in the immense palazzo in the hills of Rome, he liked to wear brighter colors.

He chose white joggers with an acanthus leaf print on the side with gold seams. They were quite comfortable. Versace sure knew how to make comfortable clothes if you were willing to spend about 700 euros on pants. For the top, he chose a Gucci sweater, perfect for nights in Rome when it was not cold but the temperature had dropped. It was pink, with the Gucci logo forming the jacquard print, and it could be another piece out of any man's wardrobe. For any man who had 600 euros to spare on a sweater, that is. As for shoes, he put on a pair of comfortable loafers from his favorite shoemaker. He did not usually wear anything branded for his feet, as he preferred trusted craftsmen.

He was about to work on his braid but changed his mind after styling his bangs. Curiously, the longer his hair was, the less it bothered him when it was loose. He didn't look in the mirror any further, as it was an informal dinner, and surely the only one who would have taken care of her appearance was Trish. Fugo would come straight from work and Mista wasn’t one to worry about his appearance in general.

"But everyone tells me that my name is just comedy from the nineties, that I should change it. I tell them that Dolly Parton has had the same name since the ‘60s and is an icon," he heard Trish say from the dining room.

“Who’s Dolly Parton?” asked Mista.

“You know, blonde, adorable, big breasts and she sings 'Jolene, Jolene, Joleeene, Joleeeeneee'."

“Leave it, Trish. The only international artist he knows of is Raffaella Carrá,” said Fugo.

"I'm thinking, Jolene is a really nice name, so maybe Jolene Una can be my stage name..."

"Well, as much as of a lovely name it is, it doesn't suit you," Giorno said, entering the dining room. "Trish Una, both the name and the person, has enough personality to make them likable, whatever a bunch of idiots may say."

Between his time in Florida and hers in London, they had not seen each other in months. It was a shame that Trish didn't want to be part of Passione and had taken up singing. He didn’t doubt that she could do it, but Giorno could not help but think that Trish would have been a great help to his work.

“Giorno! Caro mio, how was it in America?”

“I didn't like the weather, the food was inadequate, and the people were even worse. How was England?” Giorno answered sincerely without divulging many details.

“Oh, so it seems like we had similar experiences, but you smell too much like flowers. If you’ve been forced to the point of taking a relaxing bath, it must mean that your trip was worse. Tell me everything while we have dinner.”

As the daughter of a monster that had tried to kill her, Trish understood Giorno's feelings better than anyone about meeting his brothers. Giorno told them everything that had happened. They were all Stand users and had fought against very strange things, so everything that had happened to him and what the priest had said did not seem too bizarre for them. There was so much to take in all at once, but even so, Giorno had a doubt that was eating away at his heart.

“If what the priest said holds true, I think I could try and bring Bruno back.”

Trish was silent. Although Bruno had been an important part of her life, she had known him for only a very short time. However, Fugo and Mista were different cases. He had saved their lives so long ago, and they were part of his small dysfunctional famiglia for years.

Fugo couldn't forgive himself for leaving Bruno when he had needed him most. Many times, he thought that if given the chance, he would give everything he had to bring him back, but he knew that it was impossible. But now suddenly, there was an opportunity before him. He knew what he wanted. He saw Mista's eyes, deluded as well, but he had to play the devil's advocate.

"You know that I, more than anyone, want to see him again, that I will always regret my past actions, but we have to ask ourselves if this is what he would have wanted. If there is something like Heaven, it’s obvious that he is going to be there. Even though he was a mafioso, he did much more good for the world than he did bad." Fugo was only verbalizing the words that the others were thinking. "Not only that, we don’t know what condition he’ll return in. Perhaps he’ll return to us as an irrational undead. I do not want that for Bruno. I also do not want him to return as a being trapped in his body without the ability to feel."

"I don't want that for Bruno either. I was there when he met his end, Pana. I wouldn't do that to him," Giorno replied quickly. "But if the opportunity really exists..."

"I understand what Pana is trying to say. Near the end, didn’t he also go blind? But I don't think it’s just a physical problem... Maybe he has no reason to come back," said Mista

"Being alive will always be better than being dead, I suppose, but..." Trish began when the others were silent. "Bruno was dead, you told us that the wounds did not affect him. And yet at that moment, when he bled and began to deteriorate, it was as if he really had died then, even more so than when Diavolo killed him."

"We can't forget Nara. Bruno wouldn't forgive us if he saw that you brought him back with some kind of vampire magic power while Nara remains dead. If that depends on his will at all..." Fugo said with a broken voice. "I miss Nara every day. You know that I would gladly offer myself in exchange for him to live again, but it’s not only that. If emotions and his will have anything to do with it, knowing that the others are not there would destroy him."

"After Bruno died, you know, after the church... he really only ever looked alive when he was with Abba," Trish said. "I may not have known Bruno as much as the two of you, but I like to think that one day someone will love me the way they both loved each other. What I mean to say is, you can't bring just one, either out of regret or because he will not want to return without the love of his life. But this brings up another question. Maybe you’ll be able to bring one of them back all good and dandy, but what about three?”

"Giogio, if you think you’re capable, I’ll be there to support you and help you. But if you’re not sure..." Mista said with more softness than usual.

He thanked them for their help and told them that he had to retire to review a few things. It was true, he had a lot of work to do. Since it was his ability, they told him the decision was ultimately his to make; it had taken years to build that level of unconditional trust they now had for him as their boss. He should have been able to take it without having to ask the others, but he didn't feel capable. He felt… useless. He was tired of everything, especially feeling incapable.

He told himself he didn’t have to explain what he’s doing as he took the keys to the Maserati MC12 and headed for Napolés. He realized halfway through that it might not be the best car for what he wanted to do, but he had others in Nápoles that were more suitable. A car ride from Rome to Nápoles typically lasted about two and a half hours, but with the Maserati, no respect for authority or fines, and taking into account that it was late and there was little traffic, he was able to make the trip in a mere hour and a half. It also helped to know that if he had a traffic accident, GER would activate.

Chapter 5: Zombie

Chapter Text

If what Pucci had told him was true, he was going to need human lives. In another time, that could have been a bigger moral problem than it was now. His hands were stained with so much blood that thinking about the life of a friend caused ethics to be thrown out the window. He had killed and led many more to be killed since he had arrived at the position of Don. Some members of Passione wanted to continue the old regime as before, not to mention that the organization had more people comparable to Cioccolate in its ranks.

He liked to think that, in honor of Bucciarati, they also kept the peace of things that the police did not fix. And there were many occasions when he gave the discontent members a very definitive solution. He was sure that Bruno would have liked his choice of victim for the ritual. It was almost as if a bit of balance in the world was restored, bringing in Bruno Bucciarati by sacrificing a child-raping scum.

The three had been buried in neighboring graves, although in the case of Bruno and Abbacchio, they were in the same, as that is what they would have wanted. Abbacchio's family, the one who had left him in life, had beseeched Giorno to give him dignity in death by allowing them to cover up his sexual orientation. Only his grandmother, Dolores Abbacchio, approved of the double burial decision. Since, as Mista told him, she was the only one who had continued to have contact with her grandson and went to the funeral, the rest of the family could burn in hell.

He supposed that with a body as big as the pedophile's, there would be enough for the three of them. Narancia had never eaten too much anyway. Having bribed the cemetery keepers, in principle, he would not have problems. He did not want anyone around while he tried to do what he needed.

He carefully removed the newly placed flowers in the precious vases that decorated the tombstones. The flowers were fresh and smelled fragrant, so he kept one of the bouquets, as he knew he was going to need it. He had already had to experience the smell of a decomposing body when they brought Abbacchio's corpse, and it was not pleasant. He did not want to know what the corpse would be like after years, despite having buried them surrounded by flowers.

His Stand smashed the marble, and he pulled Narancia's coffin out of the niche with some effort. The hinges and latches became fragile flowers. He took his handkerchief and held his nose before opening the coffin.

He didn't want to look, but he had to in order to fix his body. That was the first thing; he could bring him back, but he would be kind of like a vampire if he did not leave his body whole and intact. He had seen disfigurements and corpses, but not in a friend. He tried to think of him as little as possible as his body healed and everything returned to a habitable body. The last time that body breathed, Giorno was inhabiting it. He always felt guilty for his death. When he finished, it seemed as if Narancia was simply sleeping, as if five years had not passed. He carefully removed the body from the coffin and laid it on one of the blankets he had brought.

The other coffin weighed considerably more and he had to exert his new strength to remove it. It was double-occupied and both occupants were larger than Narancia. It was weird, not only seeing them as corpses, but when fixing their bodies, they felt strange. They had always been older than him, yet now, he was taller and the same age as Bruno was. It almost seemed as if they were only resting, sharing a dream, as they used to do in the turtle. The passing thought that Polnareff was going to scold him came back to him, but Giorno would only tell him if the revival was successful. Maybe later he could take it upon himself to give the Frenchman a body as well.

Compared to the horror he had uncovered an hour before, his friends were now as beautiful as they had been in life. Young and beautiful, death had stolen them. The sounds of the sacrifice awakening behind him told him that he had been focused on the bodies for quite some time.

He knew it would only work if they had the desire to continue living. They had died on a mission, feeling the danger for their loved ones; it was very clear that it would be very easy to attract their souls. He had never consciously used so much power all at once, as it was always GER that did it automatically when he was in danger. He was more powerful now than he had been back then, especially since he was not quite human. According to Pucci, his father's vampiric traits made him have the most powerful Stand. Giorno would rather believe this right now than dwell on the fact that Dr. Kujo was just a 17-year-old full-human being when he destroyed him.

He thought about muttering a prayer, but he was not really a believer and if there really was a god in heaven, he did not think that he would approve of what Giorno was going to try to do. The sensation was strange and it wasn't like anything the priest could have explained to him, but he instinctively knew how to do it. Like fishing for a soul in an ocean. It wasn't so much that they had shapes, but he recognized souls somehow. It wasn’t so long before he began to understand it; the sacrifice was not only of body, but also of soul. He needed the vital energy of that sacrifice to boost the life in them, but since he had brought very little, he decided to focus on Bruno. He would help the former capo first to reassure the other two.

The man stopped squirming while Bruno seemed to spasm slightly. He could practically see the life escape from the man, how he suffered every second in terrible agony. Giorno never looked away, not because he wanted to remember the evil he was doing later, but because he was unaffected by the grotesque scene unfolding in front of him.

The other man's eyes became blank and dead when Bucciarati opened his. Instinctively, Giorno knew that the beast had to be fed. He carefully shoved the corpse of the recently deceased.

The beast pounced on the dead body and devoured its flesh and blood like a starved animal until it seemed to calm down. For a moment, its eyes, now filled with clarity, stared in horror at its bloody hands without knowing what had happened but getting a very rough idea of who had eaten from the corpse in front of it.

“Bruno, Don't worry, you didn’t kill him.”

Bruno turned to Giorno, his face stained and his hairstyle far from its usual neatness. He looked at him for a few long seconds, trying to recognize him, until he finally emitted a weak, "Gio…?"

“That's right, it’s me, Giorno. It’s been a while since I was able to come, mio amico.”

Bruno had always been quick to understand the most bizarre situations. He was taking in what had happened when a silver flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention; he turned to look at it. He remembered Leone bloodied and lifeless on the beach. He remembered having abandoned him, not only his corpse. Had he not left him alone, he would not have died like that.

His legs trembled, but to Giorno's relief, they seemed to work quite well for him to reach where his beloved lay.

"Leone? Mi amore, it's you, it's really you. Wake up, mio bello, come with me." The tears began to flow as they had not been able to do before. "Mio agnello, get up." When he touched him, he felt as if he was going to die again. "No, no, no, this can't be happening again. Giorno, he can't be dead."

"He won't be for long. You need to believe in me, because they’re going to be confused too. They'll feel more assured if you're okay."

Bruno had to assimilate many things. Although his own death was not difficult, he had had a few days to wander the earth before he finally died. Also, he had come back as something that was not quite human. How would the others feel in his same predicament? He still wasn't sure how he felt about it either.

He didn't like being selfish, but if he was going to live again, he wanted to have Leone by his side, and Narancia deserved a second chance too. But could this really be called a real second chance? Perhaps with time, he would start to feel the way he had when his life was slipping away. He would not want that for them.

"Will he ever be like... you know, like how he was before he died?" Bruno asked him seriously.

Giorno had learned to recognize when people were only feigning strength. Perhaps it was seeing him try to act strong when he was clearly vulnerable, or that he was the same age Bruno had been when he died, but for the first time, he was aware that Bruno was someone who was deprived of a childhood. And yet he had brought him back, to a person who was trying to maintain his own innocence at the cost of his friend’s soul, to help him continue to stain his hands with blood. It hadn't occurred to him to think about all the horrible things Bruno had to go through before. If he couldn’t handle any of it, Giorno would have to end his life again.

He was not used to using so much power. Seeing the flora spring up around him wasn't uncommon, but then the first tombstone broke and a corpse hand rose to the surface.

Chapter 6: Heroes

Chapter Text

Giorno Giovanna had been exhausted on numerous occasions in his life. In fact, during his childhood, due to the lack of food, he had even come to believe that it was a natural occurrence. However, he had never felt so drained from using his Stand before. Bringing Bruno back had been quite an experience; he had expended more energy than he thought possible. And the proof was that instead of only bringing back his companions, the excess energy he meant to let go went to other corpses in the area.

He had created zombies. On his list of errors, that had to be on the top. Fortunately, most of those who were able to escape the tombs used up almost all of their energy in the process. Even so, the vision was so grotesque that Bruno clung protectively to Abbacchio's corpse. The question as to whether his Stand could converge was then answered, for behind him, Sticky Fingers materialized, ready to attack anyone who approached.

Giorno stood next to Narancia’s body. The young boy, once he was brought back, would not need to know how Bruno had totally forgotten about him. It was not strange though; the only weakness of the Angel of Nápoles was lying on the ground beside him.

The zombies did not have much strength, so some vines were enough to immobilize them. Giorno was so tired that he appreciated Bruno's insistence on carrying the body of his beloved. He could destroy the corpses, but since he had brought them back, they should be his responsibility.

By the time he finished transporting the living corpses into the van, the sun was already rising. Luckily, he knew of enough places in Nápoles where he could take them with no one the wiser. Or, at least, no one who was not mortally afraid of betraying the Don of Passione.

He chose the old house where they had briefly hidden Trish; he had kept it more for its sentimental value than anything else. From time to time, he liked to go and remind himself of how much it had cost him to get where he was, which is why the place was clean, tidy, and stocked with fresh food. He was so exhausted that Bruno scolded him into going to sleep. The man had barely been in the world of the living for a few hours but already he was acting like a father to him. Being told by Bruno that they had to talk seriously after his nap only added to the sense of fatherhood.

Giorno practically fell unconscious as soon as he touched the bed. His hunger woke him up late in the afternoon, and he almost ran down when he remembered Bruno.

The man was not alone. Giorno’s hasty departure from the city hadn't been so inadvertent nor perhaps his disappearance in the morning. If he hadn't been so tired, it would have occurred to him to call with an excuse or disconnect his phone, but he hadn't done any of that. Hence, they had tracked him down.

You could see even in Fugo's expression that he had been crying, and it was even more remarkable in Mista. For a moment, Giorno felt like a stranger intruding upon a reunion, at least until Bruno saw him and called him.

"I managed to sleep for an hour," he told Giorno with palpable emotion in his voice. "And I tried eating too. It’s not like before; it doesn’t really feel nourishing, but I can... feel it."

Before Giorno had time to react, Bruno was on his knees in front of him and had taken his hand to kiss the ring he didn't even remember wearing. The oath to the Don.

"Please Don Giovanna, bring them back like you did with me. If I get to live like this, I cannot live without my beloved or with the guilt over Narancia."

Giorno automatically bent down to the height of his kneeling friend and hugged him affectionately. For a moment, the fatigue and doubts that assailed him melted. Only the joy of having them all back soon shone. If Fugo or Mista had thought about throwing his attitude in his face for not consulting them on the final decision, the result had silenced them. There was no argument about whether it was worth having their former capo back.

"Never kneel before me, my friend. You of all people do not have to. In any case, I should be the one kneeling before you," Giorno said in a broken voice while holding back tears. "I'm going to do everything in my power to bring them back as soon as I can. We have a couple of candidates who are perfect for serving as a sacrifice. I think I could do it in a few hours, at least with one of them."

When a drug dealer tried to sell his products in children’s schools, ending up in the hands of Passione was always a possibility, but he certainly could not have expected to meet his end like this. Being devoured by a teenager, that is. The pimp who murdered Leone Abbacchio's partner years ago had not expected to meet him again under such circ*mstances either. He had been kept in one of Passione's barracks, thinking they would kill him quickly, but nevertheless, they kept him locked up, as if having something special and far worse in store for him.

He was not a very clever man, but seeing the strange men and the corpse, however well preserved it was, of the man he had ruined was enough to tell him to fear for his life. Despite how painful and traumatic his death was, there was no anger or desire for revenge in the gaze of his executioner. After being illuminated with that golden glow, the corpse stood up, automatically knowing what it had to do. The first bite was in the juicy flesh of his cheek. Luckily for the pimp, his vitality was transferred to the ancient corpse before he could continue to feel anything.

While Bruno Bucciarati couldn't manage to shed a single tear the first time he came back from the dead in the church, he showed on double occasions that he was most definitely capable of it now, after his second revival.

Narancia's death had been so swift that he was hardly aware of having died. Yes, eating human meat was a bit disgusting as an idea at first, but he took it on. It bothered the boy more to see how the youngest of the coup group were now older than him. But of course, Narancia had always had an easy character.

Abbacchio, however, did not find it so easy to adapt. Depressed as he was, his new nature didn't help. Of course he would do anything for Bruno, but it was difficult for him. He had always had trouble connecting with people, and being a zombie didn’t help him at all in this regard. At first, Bruno refused to leave his side, partly because he knew he was having a bad time and partly because he couldn't stop remembering what had happened the last time Abbacchio was left alone. Finally, it was Leone himself who insisted to Bruno that he was fine, that he could take a walk to let himself be seen and do small errands.

Alone, he was going through the library of Giorno's new house, which they had settled in until they got used to their situation, when the blonde found him. Their relationship was never simple even before. It was only through the other members of the group that Giorno had come to understand the character of the former policeman.

Despite knowing so little of him, being an observant person, he had noticed that Abbacchio seemed particularly sad and brooding.

"Abbacchio, I don't even know what you might be feeling, but I wanted..."

"Damn Giovanna, don't tell me you're going to apologize for bringing me back to life to live with my beloved." Leone let out something between a sigh and a tired laugh. "I'm still older than you, right? In spite of everything, you have grown in stature. But, well, I refuse to believe that Mista's mind is older than mine... What I mean is that you are still a child."

"Only a year older than me." He tried not to sound very defensive. "And I’ve been running Passione with an iron fist for five years. I can’t possibly be considered a child anymore."

"I didn't mean it like that." He hit Giorno on the shoulder. "You’re trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, as only idealistic children do; I once did the same. But of course, you are powerful and you have broken the rules of nature to do it. All of the people in Bruno's group, including himself—maybe not Fugo, but that rat has never been a child—were a bunch of children playing at being adults. Any one of us would have made the same decision as you, choosing to bring back Bruno and Narancia. I guess I'm lucky that they want me with them. It’s not a secret that I do not feel completely comfortable, kid, but... I also didn't understand why I was still alive right before Diavolo turned me into a donut.”

"We wanted you back too, Abbacchio." And Giorno realized it was true. Everyone's attitude seemed to be more relaxed around him, as if he was an older brother they could go to.

"Of course you want me back. I'm the life of the party." He let out a boisterous laugh that made Giorno smile too. "You don't have to worry about me. Bruno already does, and he did a lot when I kicked the bucket too. But enough of this. I'm bored out of my mind since you won't let me do anything. Why don’t you tell me about your brothers? Someone has to investigate them. Sorry you’re stuck with those sons of bitches."

"From what I know about my mother and father, it’s not an insult at all."

And with Leone Abbacchio in charge of the investigation and search for Donatello, Passione continued its expansion on the now less burdened shoulders of its Don.

Chapter 7: Sobreviviré

Chapter Text

Florida, 2011

Some associated the color green with good luck, but for Jolyne, that couldn’t be further from the case. When did her days become miserable? She would say it started when she moved to the green swamps of Florida. When did Romeo run over the man whose murder she was in jail for? The same day she dyed parts of her hair green. Life, it seemed, from the very beginning just kept throwing a barrage of misfortunes at her... And why was that? She didn’t need to look in the mirror to tell you that the eyes she viewed the world with were also green. Well, F.F. was very green too, but she was the exception to the rule.

All things considered, she was a bit apprehensive when she found herself in the green swamps by Green Dolphin Street Prison, holding a green demon baby in her arms.

But no—hadn’t good things happened to her too since she had entered the prison? She had been made privy to the true nature of her scumbag boyfriend, she attained a Stand (she supposed that was a good thing), and most importantly, she finally understood her old man for the first time after all these years. Her dad loved her and always had; she’d learned that walking out of her life was only ever with the intention of trying to protect her. A bad plan, but what mattered was that he never stopped caring about her. She could also count her meeting with Hermes, F.F, Emporio, Weather Report, and she supposed Anasui on her lucky stars too.

But of course, the bad things just kept piling up, one after another.

She had had so much ill luck ever since she'd entered the prison. Damn, she didn't know how she was still alive. It had all been too much lately. She knew she still had more left to do and the risks to her own life were only going to be greater, but she didn't care if it meant saving her dad. Let them call it Joestar courage, or whatever they wanted, but if she had to beat the priest to pieces along with all his underlings, she would do it.

"Jolyne, my sweet darling, we’ve almost reached where that damn priest is. After we defeat him, we should find another priest to officiate our..." She only half listened to Anasui, lost in thought, but she didn't think she was missing anything important anyway.

There was a sudden strangeness to their environment. The cold was slightly different from the wet cold of the swamp, which was usually more humid. This chill was different, the kind that got under the spine and did not leave until you took a long hot shower. It took her a moment to realize that it was not the cool temperature, but a feeling of fear that had made her skin crawl.

Was she feeling the power of a Stand? Even Anasui, who didn’t seem to be very good at reading situations well, was silent. She might not have been involved with Stands for long, but she had certainly encountered quite a few. But none looked like this, if it was even a Stand. Whatever it was, if Jolyne had learned anything, it was that the best way to defeat a Stand was to attack its user. Few abilities could allow the user to resist a kick in the balls.

The green baby clung to her tightly in her arms, actually looking scared. It had long stopped nibbling on her prison uniform. She put it down gently on the floor of the airboat, a little reluctant to part from its warm body heat. If she was going to have to fight, it was better to have her hands free. Whispers resounded through the swamp, seeming very out of place. At first, she thought she had misheard, but then she heard them again. It was almost as if someone was chanting 'Joestar' around the area. When Anasui said 'What the hell is a Joestar?', she confirmed that her mind wasn’t just playing tricks on her.

A wall of mist began to rise from the swamp’s water, making it increasingly difficult to see. They weren’t left with much choice but to approach the shore. There was no point in running away if the enemy intended to pursue them anyway. The sound of the voice calling for Jolyne grew nearer. It came from various locations, though they could hear something move closer and closer to where they stood.

“You seem more delicious than that ripe old fart.” The voice, seeming to belong to a male, was so close it appeared to be whispering right into her ear. "A true Joestar, unlike that little girl who only carried the name. Just one look at you and I know you’ll be delectable."

Jolyne’s breath hitched. She was sure that whoever it was, she wasn’t only imagining the sensation of him behind her, for something had actually touched her back. She whipped her head around, but there was no one there.

"Isn't it fortunate that the State has no care for the lives of its prisoners? Someone should have told me sooner that I would have so much material on hand."

Confused-looking prisoners began to emerge from the mist, carrying bats, kitchen knives, chains, and other common objects you’d find lying around within prison facilities. Some of them had visible bullet wounds and other forms of deadly injury on them. Before either of them could analyse the ability, the new hoard of prisoners were already on Anasui. Jolyne rapidly scanned the faces of the assailants, figuring that one of them must be the stand user, but she didn’t recognize any of them.

Amidst the crowd, one distinct person approached them at a slower pace. It was a young man who not only lacked a prison uniform but was quite elegantly dressed too. He was tall, blond, and quite handsome. It would have been even more so if not for the way he looked at Jolyne with his cold blue eyes. Men had gazed upon her lustfully before, but there was something different, although equally unsettling, about his gaze.

"Who the hell are you?" Jolyne shouted at him, having lost any patience for politeness.

"I should have guessed that you’d be attractive," he said, almost to himself, but loud enough for Anasui to hear, evoking a protest while he fought off the other prisoners’ attacks. "Jolyne, am I correct? Of course, I am. You’re unmistakably a Joestar."

"Are you one of Pucci's henchmen?" Jolyne asked him as she got into a fighting stance, clenching her hand into fists.

"A henchman? No, maybe an ally. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Donatello Versus." He approached her calmly, hands in his pockets. "I know they haven’t told you much about your family, but I’m the son of the man who stood above Pucci. Your dad killed him, by the way." He smiled at her, the pointed canines of his teeth becoming very prominent. "Not that it matters to me, but you... I need you and you're going to come with me."

Jolyne did not understand what he was prattling about, but she had had enough talk already. She was close enough to attack him, so she did.

She watched with wide eyes, stifling a gasp, as he managed to dodge every one of Stone Free’s punches effortlessly and precisely with an inhuman speed. With the exception of Star Platinum, she had yet to meet anyone within this darn prison whose stand was faster than her own, let alone the stand user themself. Worse, he did it nonchalantly, with his hands still tucked in his pockets, while whistling an unknown tune as he crept closer and closer despite all her efforts. The high pitch sound effectively grated on her nerves. The smile on his face fell when she closed the distance and surprised him with a powerful punch of her own mid-dodge.

“Now that wasn’t very nice.”

As Donatello wiped the beads of red blood from his mouth that came from biting his tongue too hard, he had to admit that he was spellbound by her. Of course, old Joseph couldn't compare to her. Aside from her youthful appearance, her way of moving was hypnotic, her voice like a beautiful song, and her character... Well, feisty characters were made to be tamed. No one said he had to drain every last drop of blood from her. She could last him a long time if he knew how to be patient.

"f*ck you, blondie. You and the priest. I've already kicked others' asses without knowing their whole family history."

She had only hit him with her own strength and her Stand, withholding her strings until now. She knew the bastard was fast, but she could set him up by using Stone Free’s tightly-bound string ropes.

"Your ability is creating strings? How charming, a very feminine power!" he shouted, trying not to lose his calm.

"Yare yare dawa, are you going to kiss my feminine ass?"

Donatello considered telling her that he would gladly do it later, but the game was taking too long. Using his speed against her was his best bet while he continued attacking the pink-haired man, who was much more difficult to control than he had originally anticipated.

When he almost tripped on one of the strings, he felt a bit embarrassed and angry, but he couldn't lose his cool over that. However, he finally did lose it when just as he was about to reach over and grab her from behind, one of her strings caused him to stagger and sink to one knee on the ground with a grunt.

He was so close that he could almost touch her. He needed to touch her, he realized, as he stretched out his arm. His arm was currently gripped by Stone Free, and although he was able to free himself every time he managed to get close, one of her dainty string traps would ensnare him again. Donatello was already irritated, but now this was really boiling his blood. He was well on his way to being a full-fledged vampire, yet he was being overcome by strings? He was sure that no powerful vampire had ever been overcome by strings before, and that caused him to lose his temper even more.

He was forced to start diverting resources, using his Stand's slaves to attack her as well while ordering the remainder to carry out even more brutal attacks against her male companion. He hadn't wanted to hurt her more than necessary, but she was asking for it.

Why did she have to be so stubborn? If she’d just surrendered herself to him, he wouldn't have had to injure her to this extent, where her body was now littered with welts in the making of bruises. It was her own fault.

Jolyne made it hard for him to capture her, but she couldn't handle all of them at once. His fingers were finally able to graze her as his slaves, prisoners recreated from a failed prison riot, held her down, with the wailing from the other guy in the background.

Encaged within the prisoners’ limbs, Jolyne breathed heavily, her face a deep red. She glared at him fiercely with her green eyes. He couldn’t help the rush of satisfaction that overcame him at the sight, his victory. He stepped back to drink in the image. That’s when he noticed it; in the scuffle, her jacket had gotten ruined and exposed the area around her shoulder and neck. A faded pink star birthmark stood out, contrasting against her peach skin. He had long already felt it in his blood, but now he had the full proof. He had really found her.

Donatello laughed, touching her and holding her within his embrace while she tried to wriggle free. She flinched when he buried his nose into her hair. He didn’t think he would ever get used to her sweet scent; it was so intoxicating. He would tame her, all the while enjoying the process, and in the end, shewould be begging to be in his arms. It was such a magnificent sensation, he almost felt a pleasant electric current run through his body.

Jolyne stubbornly turned her head to the side, but there was no escape. He ran his tongue over his lips and readied to sink his teeth into her neck when he heard a ‘BOOM!’ nearby and realized that his Stand was starting to lose strength.

There was only one person in the world with the ability to override his Stand, and it didn't take long for him to see the figure of another golden-haired man. He was accompanied by a petite green-haired woman in overalls and a tall guy with a strange hat. The golden man himself had found him.

While he was distracted, Jolyne took the opportunity to escape his arms, turning almost her entire body into strings. She could not go very far, but she could at least escape his grip even though she was too badly injured to continue fighting.

"Brother," he said angrily.

"Donatello," Giorno replied.

Donatello hated the response, but not because Giorno hadn’t called him brother, as he didn't think of Giorno in those terms either. He hated it because the golden man pronounced his name better than he could, with a pure Italian accent, as if he existed to remind him that there was someone better.

"What the hell, was there some kind of bargain for blond vampire sickos? f*cking Pucci!" Jolyne shouted before collapsing to the ground from her injuries.

Chapter 8: Can't Take My Eyes off You

Chapter Text

The looks of hatred exchanged between the brothers was quite an uncomfortable sight for Jolyne, who was right in their field of vision. She ruminated about the possibility of moving discreetly to one side without Donatello noticing, too focused on the other blond. Now that his Stand power had been withdrawn, it would be easy to run away if the two blondes started fighting amongst themselves. She signaled Anasui to be quiet and also gestured for F.F. to lower the gun she had started aiming at Donatello, who seemed more and more like an actual creepy vampire.

Maybe she could pretend to be unconscious and crawl out when they weren't looking in her direction. It seemed like an infallible plan. She mentally congratulated herself on her geniusness.

"Jolyne, dear, what do you think you are doing?" Donatello asked, turning his attention to her. She froze under his narrow-eyed gaze.

Well, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but at least she had managed to get a bit further away. She didn’t chance another look in her friends’ direction. Just as Donatello took a step toward her, the other blonde, the one he had called brother, mirrored his action toward him.

A blue stand appeared behind Donatello, and at the command of 'Underworld', the prisoners who had disappeared before then reappeared to go against his brother. They had not advanced even two steps before the other said 'Gold Experience.' To her surprise, he let the prisoners continue to approach him. Just when Jolyne braced herself to see him get beaten, she heard a call for 'Requiem' and Donatello's brother was perfectly fine while Underworld’s ability had shut off.

"I had to try," Donatello said almost apologetically with a sigh, but there was no real remorse on his face. "You couldn't save the old man, and now you won't be able to save her either."

"You are not going to kill any more Joestars," said the other with such solemnity that it tasted like an oath.

"Oh, but I'm not going to kill her. I just need to extract some of her blood, which I can do on several occasions." Jolyne felt a chill when she heard that. "Think of it like this, taking her is like ending the damn feud between our families."

"f*ck you, blondie!" sputtered Jolyne even as she felt increasingly light-headed. "I mean, the one who wants to do weird sh*t to me. The other seems to be a sort of ally. If not, screw him too! But he seems to be mainly after Donatello, I think." Without really meaning to, she had started to voice her thoughts aloud.

It seemed to Jolyne that the blonde who wasn't Donatello was laughing, but it was only for a few seconds. She didn’t know what happened afterward, because the next thing she knew, she heard a ‘ ziiiipp’ from beneath her and seconds later, before she could even scream, she fell into a void.

"Right on target, caro mio," said a deep voice.

"Jolyne, don't be scared." When she was able to see again, she saw a man with a bob haircut and a kind expression. "We’re escaping from Donatello with my Stand. Giorno has gone to stop him, but that man is elusive and always ends up escaping. It seems his ability has changed or evolved since the previous run-in too. Oh poor girl, you're bleeding everywhere. I'll close your wounds while we wait for Giorno. My name is Bucciarati, by the way, and this other very handsome man is Abbacchio."

"Try not to faint from the loss of blood until Giovanna returns," said the aforementioned Abbacchio.

It was one thing to tell her to not pass out and quite another for her to actually hold on consciously. If she had more energy, she would have done it, but she could barely walk. In fact, after a while, she could not even do that and the taller one had to carry her in his arms while the brunette made use of his stand to move in a way that she could not understand.

She was barely conscious when they emerged into a room in a house near the prison. The blonde called Giorno was already waiting for them there.

Through her slipping consciousness, she noticed that Giorno made a strange face when he approached her. His golden Stand appeared behind him. He grabbed a hold of her and she suddenly felt excruciating pain. Just as panic began to build up within her and she weakly slapped his hands away, she looked down and noticed that her wounds had disappeared.

"Your Stand..." Jolyne said, almost in a whisper. "It shares the same name as my goldfish..."

Everything went black.

She didn't know how long she was unconscious, but when she woke up, she felt fine, at least physically. Mentally, not so much, because she was tremendously confused. Some kind of vampire had attacked her and said things that seemed strangely sexual, and then another, who looked like his brother, had come to help her.

Donatello seemed powerful, but somehow, Giorno seemed even more so. And most of all, one wanted to do f*cking awful things to her while the other wanted to save the Joestars. A lump of worry began to burn in her throat. Giorno had said that he would not allow him to kill more Joestars. What had Donatello already done?

She thought of her great-grandfather's mischievous smile and his bright green eyes then his sudden death. Did Donatello have something to do with that? The thought terrified her, but not knowing who he was referring to was even worse. She didn't know if her grandmother or Gruncle Josuke were okay.

Her dad had told her that he had walked away from her for her own safety, but he hadn't had time to explain anything to her before Pucci's attack. Donatello and Pucci were in league with one another. What had they been doing to her family while she was moping over the loss of their love?

Despite being on the verge of tears, she still paid attention to her surroundings. Hence, when she heard the door open a little, she manifested her Stand. Incidentally, she also realized that the door was strange; it did not look like the door to a common room.

"Mi scusi." The man, who she recognized as the one who had introduced himself as Bucciarati, cleared his throat before speaking in English with a very marked accent. "I didn't know if you were awake, miss. I wanted to check on you. I'll let the boss know to make sure."

She was then left alone again for a while, long enough for her to recollect herself. She and her supposed saviors were supposed to be allies, although the fact that this Giorno was Donatello's brother did not assure her. The next time the door opened, the person entered only after calling first and getting her permission.

With a reassuring expression, the blonde entered. She hadn’t noticed before in the swamp, but he was big, maybe even bigger than Donatello. He was surely close to her own dad's size. His long hair was blond, very blond, that she could almost say that it was unnaturally golden. He was dressed in a bottle green Prada suit that further accentuated his eyes. Despite Donatello being a horrible person, she had found him to be attractive. Well, apparently, Donatello was not the handsome brother.

As he seated himself on one of the two chairs in the room, she suddenly became aware of how small the room really was. It was starting to look less and less like a room.

"Well Miss Kujo... Do you mind if I call you Jolyne?" She nodded and he continued. "What a lovely name. Please call me Giorno. Or, I suppose full introductions are in order first. My name is Giorno Giovanna, and as Donatello mentioned, I have the misfortune to share blood with him. I was conceived by a man called Dio Brando, but unlike Donatello, I don't consider him my father... Even so, I still inherited his powers..." He paused at this point.

"Don't worry, I've seen some of the weirdest sh*t imaginable these past few weeks. You can just be blunt and tell me all of it as it is," Jolyne told him, tired of not understanding anything. "I can't promise I'll understand, but I don't think it could possibly be anything too surprising."

"My father was a vampire who stole the body of Jonathan Joestar, your great-grandfather's... grandfather? Your father killed him when he was at the age of 17 in Egypt."

"That sounds a lot like my dad, actually." Jolyne shrugged. She vaguely recalled Donatello mentioning that last point back at the swamp too, though at the time, she hadn’t been really paying too much attention to his words. "Maybe I would have been a lot more surprised if one of my friends weren’t a colony of sentient plankton."

"What?” Giorno was startled, but there was also underlying intrigue. “Is it because of a Stand attack? We could reverse your friend’s condition if they’re still alive," he offered.

"Nah. It’s more like, basically, a plankton with a Stand possessed a corpse and initially followed orders from Father Pucci," Jolyne began to explain. "I told you I wouldn't be surprised. But don’t worry, she's fine. She's the girl who came with you and was ready to shoot your brother."

"Please, don't refer to that monster as my brother," Giorno said abruptly before resuming his previously calm behavior. "As I was saying, Dio sired us using the body of your great-great-great-grandfather, so apparently, we need pure Joestar blood to unlock the full potential of our power. I am not interested in becoming a vampire myself, but what I do care about is whether or not Donatello will succeed at it. Hence, I’ve made it my personal mission to protect you."

"Thanks, I guess. But first, there’s something really important I have to take care of. I need to go back." She hadn’t chosen to go right back into the stone ocean for nothing that time so long ago, even when she was already past the coiled fence and the sea breeze was in her face, the huge submarine awaiting her.

"The Speedwagon Foundation already has Dr. Kujo’s disc, so you can rest assured. But I'm afraid that going back will not be so easy." Giorno sighed. Preparing himself to be attacked by a Stand, he proceeded to tell her everything at once.

"If Donatello finds you again, he’ll waste no time. He really wants you, and only my Stand can override his. He has Pucci's allies crawling all over the area right now. As for us, for the last few hours, we've been on a private plane headed for Italy, my turf, where I have plenty of allies. Did I mention before that I am the leader of Passione, one of the largest and most powerful mafia organizations in Italy?

"I rose to power at the age of 15 after I gained the power of Requiem over my Stand and sent the previous leader into an unmentionable fate. He deserved it, though, for killing several of my companions, all of whom I brought back from the dead five years ago. You’ve already met two of them actually; they are the ones who rescued you. But I assure you, they are good people, despite not quite being people."

Jolyne frowned, trying to take in everything he had said. She may be used to weird things, but even this was a bit much.

She finally settled for the most concerning point. "So, what you’re saying is, I've been abducted."

"I would prefer 'courteously invited to receive my protection', but right now, it is more important for me to stop Donatello than to consider your wishes. Really, it depends on you," he said in a monotonous voice.

"So yes, abducted, whatever rhetoric you want to give it." She sighed heavily. "f*cking hell, you do know I'm going to try to escape when we get off the plane, right?"

Giorno rose from his chair and straightened to his full height, appearing by Jolyne's side in an instant. He crouched gracefully until their eyes were on the same level, emerald green meeting aquamarine. His expression might have been cold, but his eyes didn’t carry that same frigidness.

"I'd rather not have to, but..." He smiled, showing his white teeth. "A good hunt is always interesting."

Chapter 9: Bad Romance

Chapter Text

As if he had been listening on the other side and decided that things were going South, Bruno was quick to knock on the door. In actuality, that really was what he had been doing. Giorno had informed him that just like how Donatello seemed to be enraptured around her, he himself had felt something strange when touching her during the healing process. That was why he asked Bruno to keep an eye on him and stay on guard.

It’s not like Bruno was waiting behind the door eavesdropping on him, but considering how things were going, Giorno would have thanked him even if that were the case.

"Giorno, the captain would like to speak to you!" Bruno said cheerfully, entering without knocking. "Would you mind letting me chat with this lovely young lady for a while? It’s time I show her the clothes I bought so that she can change. Since you’re allergic to clothes from the mall, this won’t interest you. So, please go."

If anyone could reassure the woman, it was, without a doubt, Bruno. Giorno doubted that it was even possible for anyone to not fall for his right-hand man’s charms. Hence, he left knowing that he could not make the situation worse.

"So, you're a zombie and your boss is a vampire," he heard her say as he left. "Bitch, tell me you also have a werewolf."

Closing the door was a relief, but the plane was unfortunately not as well ventilated. Jolyne's scent was very strong. Of course everyone smelled very strong after several battles in succession, and even more so in Florida. It should have disgusted him... but the effect was the opposite. Joseph Joestar's spilled blood had made him a little hungry, but nowhere near the effect she had. He understood why a beast such as Donatello had lost control like that. For a short while, it seemed like he was going to go crazy when Jolyne disappeared but then he suddenly turned tail and ran away.

The man with the pink hair—Anasui, he believed that the other girl had called him—also seemed to lose his mind when he saw Jolyne disappear. He had even tried to attack Giorno before Requiem knocked him unconscious. He hadn’t had enough time to explain much to the other girl, only that he had to take Jolyne away for her own safety, before the Speedwagon agents arrived to retrieve the disc.

The next task had been to get to the hotel, heal the woman, and shower while Bruno went to a nearby shopping center to buy some clothes she could change into when she woke up on the plane. They would ride as soon as Bucciarati returned. It had been a stressful couple of hours.

"Since you're here now, I take it that you've already messed things up," Abbacchio said to him, looking up from his book.

"Your powers of deduction are spot on, detective," Giorno replied with a grunt as he fell in a less graceful way than usual on the seat.

"f*ck you, I only got to patrol," he replied with an acidic smile. "So, it seems to affect you too, huh. Joestar blood gets you acting up like some horny teenager."

"I wish that that was all there was to it, but there’s also... hunger. I desire her. I hate feeling like that, like something’s taken control of me." He stopped to think about it for a few seconds. "And I think I tried to flirt with her in an absolutely horrible way."

"Boy, you need to get out more when this is all over." Leone closed his book. "And definitely learn to interact with women."

"And you’re going to teach me? You?"

"I may be in love with my wonderful boyfriend now, but that does not mean that I did not successfully flirt with women before. Many more than you actually, even in my time of alcoholic disaster." He thought for a few seconds before adding, "You manage to be more scary dressed in Prada than I used to be when I was drunk in a corner. But enough laughing at you, do you think you can hold out well without attacking her?"

"I’ve cut off my own arm while pursuing a goal before. Feeling slightly aroused is not going to make me go crazy," he said firmly. Then he lowered his voice. "Or at least I hope so. I could never forgive myself for hurting someone innocent because of the impulses of a monster... As for the other impulses, I don't like it at all. Losing control, that is. I’ll admit that she’s beautiful and brave, but she’s also rude and can’t be that intelligent if she’s openly admitting her plans to run away."

As he continued complaining, Leone pretended to lend him his ear, all the while reopening his book and muttering things like 'of course' even though they both knew they weren't paying much attention to each other. Their relationship worked better that way.

After a while, they heard laughter float out of the only bedroom on the plane. The rest were reclining seats comfortable enough to sleep without any problems, although neither Bruno nor Leone really needed to sleep. Jolyne sauntered out of the room, now adorned in a comfortable-looking dress that was two different shades of blue, with her buns and braid undone, hair flowing loose. She slipped into the small bathroom. Since she had been unconscious for much of the trip, she did not seem willing to sleep anymore.

It was obvious that Bruno had already adopted the girl, as he was trying to reproduce her previous hairstyle with his own hair. It was logical, as Giorno had asked him to take care of her, knowing that Bruno was the type of person who tended to pick up animals on the streets, not to mention petty mobsters.

The worst of the betrayals came when, after hearing Bruno complain about not having makeup to finish getting ready, Abbacchio got up and offered them his own bag of cosmetics. That hurt, because shortly after meeting him one day, Giorno had asked only for a little hand cream but was told to get it from the store himself. However, Abbacchio had known Jolyne for only a few hours, yet he was already putting makeup on her.

He knew he was being childish. Those two may be the closest thing he had to father figures, but they were only comforting a girl who had just been abducted. It was a bit like Trish's situation. Well, he couldn't imagine Trish getting covered in dirt and still continuing to fight, but the situation was similar. Better to focus on the childish feelings than the fact that she smelled too good and looked delicious in that dress.

Giorno told himself that it was best to try to be useful and went to work on all the reports that Fugo had packed for him to work on in his spare time. Blessed Fugo and his habit of drowning him in work.

Later, when he peeked through the open door of her room, he spied the girl and Abbacchio chatting about something, so focused and immersed in their conversation that they didn’t even notice his hulking presence by the door. Or maybe they had but just couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge him. Whatever they were talking about, it drew a laugh out of Jolyne, whose back was to him. He couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders shook from the movement.

Just when he was again marveling at Bruno’s fast progress, he paused when noticing the genuine smile that played across Abbacchio’s lips, whose face was visible from the doorway. The man listened to her with rapt attention, something Giorno could only ever dream about even after all this time. Recalling Abbachhio's cold treatment toward him when he first joined Bruno’s team, he could hardly believe it. Spurred by curiosity, he waited till they paused for a breath before inquiring about their topic of conversation.

“RuPaul’s Drag Race?” he parroted once they told him.

“You’ve never heard of it?” Jolyne asked, looking at him from over her shoulder.

Giorno had heard of it. Apparently, it was some kind of show that involved makeup, dress, and other super queer stuff, but admittedly, he found such shows to be a waste of time. Before Giorno could reply, Abbacchio said, “The boss is not one for that kind of good stuff. He calls it ‘junk television’.”

Jolyne gasped and fully twisted her body around to face him. Abbacchio smirked at him from behind her at his betrayed look.

“The drag race isn’t junk, it’s art!” she exclaimed, not seeming at all like someone who planned to escape.

“An Emmy Award winner too, if I recall,” Abbacchio added.

“Right!”

Giorno’s eyes flicked back and forth between them, barely able to keep up. What started out as a rant about his “ignorance” eventually flowed right into gushing about their favorite queens. He gave up trying to listen when it became apparent they were no longer even paying attention to him. He instead just elected to stare at Abbacchio’s smiling face, dazed.

When he felt a pair of golden eyes on him, he realized he’d been caught staring. He quickly fixed his gaze on the next most interesting thing. Jolyne’s back was to him again, but his gaze lingered on her braid, which was neat and expertly done.

“Bruno’s quite talented,” he muttered. He’d nailed such a complicated hairstyle after only a few hours. Just one look at her hairdo was enough to tell him that it was no simple task that could be finished with a single pair of hands.

“You think so?” he heard Jolyne say, not realizing he’d been loud. She played with the ends of her hair, which were also tied together intricately instead of just having the ends stick out. She let her hand drop before meeting his gaze. “Actually, Leone here is the one who helped me with it.”

Abbacchio assented, looking pleased with his handiwork. Giorno felt something tighten in his chest.

Not long after, they arrived at the Rome airport. Giorno almost expected Jolyne to bolt as soon as they alighted the plane; he took extra care to watch her every step as they stepped out into the sunlight. However, she seemed calm as she talked to the goth, probably about more junk television, while walking side by side with him like an intimate pair.

“They look like a couple,” Giorno whispered to Bruno for no reason.

Bruno Bucciarati was not a jealous man, but that did not mean that Giorno did not get smacked with one of the suitcases.

Jolyne was surprisingly well-behaved, polite, and kind to the few people she met. It was late when they took her to her new bedroom and told her to rest. Since she was in need of new clothes, Abbacchio told her that he was going to introduce her the next day to someone with whom she was going to enjoy burning Giorno's credit cards.

“Looking forward to it,” she said simply, scanning her new bedroom.

Giorno followed her gaze. He had specially instructed the servants to tidy up this guest room in preparation for her arrival. Just because she was a self-proclaimed prisoner, didn’t mean she had to live like one. Her room was the size and design of a 5-star hotel suite. Lush carpets covered the floor and valuable paintings adorned the cream-colored wall. The queen bed was especially appealing to anyone who had had to suffer through sleeping in plane seats.

Not once had this guest room ever been used by anyone before during his time living in this palazzo; there were plenty of other rooms that would, in fact, probably never be occupied in Giorno’s lifetime. His family was not big enough for that.

He was the last to go after Bruno and Abbacchio wished her good night, heading off to their own shared bedroom. He lingered in the doorway, leaning to one side with his arms crossed as he watched her inspect one of the abstract paintings by her bedside. He waited.

A moment later, as if having her fill, Jolyne finally plopped onto the bed, removing her shoes and socks one after another, keeping each in her grip. The shoe mat was placed by the door entrance where he stood. He was about to open his mouth and say she could simply toss them on the carpet or wherever since the servants could clean it later, but in the next second, a pair of shoes sailed through the air toward him. Just when he thought they were going to smack into his face, his eyes rounding, arms uncrossing and ready to slap them away, they dropped down loudy but precisely on the mat near his feet. A pair of socks joined in a few seconds later.

His eyes lifted from the mat and met hers from where she sat on the bed. Gone was the same mirth she had when conversing with Abbacchio or joking with Bruno. She was all business now.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

She hadn’t asked to be here. Of course, she wouldn’t have any nice words for him.

Giorno straightened, arms dropping to his side. Standing at his full height, his head touched past the top of the door frame.

“Yes,” he said in a calm manner. “You’re a protected guest here, Miss Kujo, and I would like for you to think of yourself as one. My home will be a sanctuary for you from any and all threats, including Donatello and any other minions the priest might send. You will remain here until those certain threats have been vanquished.”

Jolyne lifted her legs onto the bed and wrapped her arms around them, knees tucked under her chin. He was distracted by the cracked green nail polish on her bare toes for a second.

“But in order for this to work, we need to come to an understanding. First, some ground rules should be placed.”

He then went on to list some generic and basic restrictions that were mainly there to steer her from leaving the premises of the palazzo at her own whims. He tried to maintain eye contact to show his seriousness, but Jolyne, showing no care for decorum, switched from her curled position to outright lying across the bed, one leg dangling off the side. Like this, she looked completely and utterly defenseless.

He had tried to ignore it, but her fresh scent assailed his nostrils. He fought the urge to pinch his nose, fearing she would misunderstand and become further upset. The words that spilled off his tongue were mindless now, useless, as she didn’t even seem to be listening to him. He felt something pool in his stomach.

His words abruptly stopped. Noticing, she lifted her head to look at him, but he was already turning and making his way past the door at a brisk pace.

Giorno had someone else watch her bedroom for an hour or so. The night servants were to report to him if anything seemed amiss or out of place, but so far, they claimed there wasn’t so much of a stir that could be heard inside her bedroom. Perhaps she had finally given into her own exhaustion and fallen asleep. He wanted to confirm and have someone check on her, stomping down the feeling of ridiculousness at his own stalkerish actions toward a girl he had kidnapped. It’s not like he was left with many choices, he told himself. She had made it clear to him that she had no intention to comply with his plans, even though they were for her own safety.

When nothing came from the continued monitoring a while later, he concluded that perhaps her hostility was only aimed at him and she was agreeable with everyone else. They weren’t the ones caging her here, after all. He showered and readied himself to sleep when one of the garden sensors turned on. No one entered those gardens without his notice.

The gardens were old Roman-style, a large landmass covered in trees, plants, ponds, and different rock architecture. There were even some herbs and flowers dotting one side that he personally liked to tend to on some days. Visitors in his palazzo couldn’t help but be awed and exclaim at the beauty of it all. Tonight, however, he wasn’t in any mood to appreciate it.

Using his Stand to search for the presence of life in the garden, it took him almost an hour under the pitch-black sky to find her. He thereafter called on a sleepy-faced Abbacchio, who had been rudely awoken, to follow her with Moody Blues. He swore he could see traces of disappointment mixed in with the man’s scowl.

They watched with Moody Blues how she had used her Stand to get past all the security measures. Apparently, she had noticed many things when entering and had asked many more seemingly innocent questions that had given her clues on how to escape. He had to admit that he was wrong; apparently, she was quite intelligent.

Chapter 10: Pink (Freak)

Chapter Text

"So basically, she's been kidnapped and forcefully brought to a foreign country because your brother is batsh*t crazy, yet she managed to make Abba resort to using Moody to find her because she played you like a fool. I love her already. I can't wait to take her shopping." Trish was excited, mentally preparing the route. "We have to buy comfortable clothes, nice ones, a couple of swimsuits, makeup, and of course a ton of sexy underwear. She seems like the type of girl who enjoys lace."

"She does know I'm right here, doesn't she?" Jolyne asked Bruno before addressing Trish directly. "Why’re you talking to him like I'm not standing right here?"

"She’s poking fun at Giorno. Normally, we don't have many opportunities for it," Bruno explained.

Giorno regretted telling Trish about the attraction he felt for Jolyne every time he got close to her. He was sure the comment about the lingerie was going to hurt him. Mista was on a mission to Russia, but Giorno was sure he would have supported him. Fugo had been reasonably understanding while Trish had asked to see the other woman before starting to match them up.

"Enough about him. Now let's see the new, more interesting company." Trish turned to Jolyne and inspected her from head to toe. "You’re pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Come on, girlie, let me show you Rome."

"I'm going to end up hating you," Abbacchio said to her, dressed in a more discreet way. He was a tall man with long hair that was almost pure white and he was adorned in all black, but it was more discreet than normal for him. Not that anyone could say that the two women were too.

"Come on, Abba, I haven't been to Sephora with you in almost a year. It's more fun when you scare the shop assistants and badmouth everything." She looked at Jolyne again. "Besides, you've already done her makeup twice. You can't deny her the experience of going shopping with you."

"Do you remember the plan?" Giorno asked her again.

"God, the old Passione leader was my papa. The new one doesn't have to act like one too," Trish complained. "But yes, Abba will come in case she tries to escape again. Narancia will be tracking the area. In case anything happens, we’ll let you know, but we three and the seven elite bodyguards should be able to get the situation under control ourselves.”

To Jolyne, she said, “My papa was Diavolo, the previous Don of Passione, but I bet you know what it's like to have a strange family."

"Well, my dad is a marine biologist. I don't think that counts."

"Didn’t your papa kill a vampire and wipe out all his allies at the age of 17? I hear he's the president of the Speedwagon Foundation too," the pink-haired woman said.

"Yeah, I guess so, but for most of my life, I thought he was just a plain old marine biologist who traveled a lot." Jolyne's mood fell suddenly. "Will I at least be able to find out if he’s recovered?"

"I think Dr. Kujo will soon call in person to give me death threats, so you don’t have to worry about it," Giorno replied in a strange attempt to comfort her. "Where is Narancia? He’s not usually late."

Narancia was not long in coming. Ever since he had come back to life, meeting new people gave him a little anxiety. He was afraid of them knowing what he really was or having them think he was a monster. Let alone meeting someone who was suffering because of the legacy of a vampire.

Despite his nerves, he managed to greet the newcomer with a huge smile, bumping fists with her.

“Just so you know, I’m not a child. I’m older than you!” he said, pointing accusingly at Jolyne. She only grinned and affirmed.

Five minutes later, the conversation steered toward a debate about whether it was scientifically correct to call him a zombie or if that would be classified as a slur.

“Since there’s only three of you to begin with, instead of the term ‘zombie,’ why not just refer to yourselves by your names?” Jolyne suggested.

“Yeah, I like that!” Narancia said enthusiastically. “Except for Abbacchio. It’s just too funny calling him a ‘zombie’, y’know, since he fits the vampire stereotype better than Giorno.”

They burst into laughter as Abbachio folded his arms and turned away with a grunt, hiding his face.

The group eventually departed, wishing Giorno a peaceful and prosperous day at work. The blonde went to his office with a bitter sensation in his mouth. Jolyne had taken about five minutes to befriend everyone but only ever looked at him suspiciously whenever they made eye contact.

He understood her mistrust. That was part of why he was not interested in pursuing any kind of romantic relationship with her despite how much Trish tried to convince him otherwise. She had suggested that he try to calm his raging emotions by taking Jolyne as his lover, which was completely ridiculous; it’s not like he couldn't control himself. Nevermind that his neck ached a bit from forcing himself to look at anyone else other than her when she was in the room.

She had seemed beautiful to him in the pitiful state he had first seen her in. Then he saw her in a new light after her escape attempt; she became stunning. The way she kept her eyes on him when he tried to intimidate her had his pulse thrumming loudly in his ears. Maybe he had gotten used to ruling for a long time without anyone standing up to him. Jolyne's charm might have been a problem even without him being drawn to her blood, but she was a temptation he couldn't fall into. It helped a lot that at the moment he was the only person in Italy who didn't like her.

He called the bank to notify them in advance that the purchases from the group’s shopping were being made in his name. He knew what Trish was like when she had a blank check and Abbacchio was probably going to advise Jolyne to buy a bunch of absurdly expensive things to take out her anger a bit. In all fairness, she had no reason to be angry with him. He had saved her and was treating her like a VIP guest without sparing any expense, yet she had repaid him with a bad attitude and almost caused him to lose an entire night’s sleep with that foolish escape attempt.

Thinking back to the previous night, the worst part wasn’t even the rush of panic he felt at her near escape or the frantic search for her. He knew it would irritate Abbacchio, but he still pulled him away from the comforts of his bedroom and his lover’s arms to help because of his closer connection to her. Upon catching up to her, Abbacchio had reasoned with her and managed to convince her to return inside. Giorno was sure that if he had come alone, the outcome could have been more disastrous.

As she ambled past the palazzo doors, Giorno had felt a desperate urge to pull her into his room. It took all his will power to tell them that he was tired and that it would be much worse for everyone if this matter were to repeat. As his speech was released, his instincts screamed at him to kiss her and bite her, claiming her as his. Abbacchio was right; he had to learn to flirt with women better, then go out and seduce someone even for one night before he ended up doing something he would regret.

"Ciao Giorno, I’ll be going to the meeting with Capo Antonella. Do you need anything?" asked Bruno, suddenly entering. Giorno was so distracted that he had not heard the sound of the zipper. Bruno did not understand too much about the concept of privacy as if he were his real father. "What’s with that face? If you couldn't sleep last night, you should take a nap. The paperwork will still be waiting for you when you wake up. Or if it’s too much for you, I can take some along with me for the road..."

"No need, but thank you. I just need to clear my mind a bit."

Bruno moved one of the chairs closer to the desk, forgetting any hint of haste he might have had and sat in a posture that indicated to Passione's boss that he should give way to Bruno, the group's advisor for all kinds of personal matters. Bruno almost had to say 'let's gossip'.

"Wasn't Antonella waiting for you?" Giorno asked, knowing that when Bruno took that position, he was just as ruthless as in combat.

"You know she adores me. She'll forgive me for any delay if I claim I was doing something for Leone. You know she's like a super fan of ours." He was right, the terrible boss treated them as if they were her children and she loved a good story (or at least the parts she could know). If one day they married and she was not the godmother, she would surely get angry. "If it's not a nightmare, tell me what's wrong. Are you worried about Donatello? You’re aware he hasn’t been able to leave the country; it's an ocean away. And the Speedwagon Foundation is taking care of Pucci.”

"It's not Donatello or Pucci that I'm worried about right now... You wouldn't understand."

"You’ve got the hots for Jolyne like never before for anyone else, and you feel bad because it’s triggered by all those vampire instincts? Come on Giogio, I communicate with my boyfriend, and I know you like very few people do." He gave him a kind smile. "And I’ve got to admit, it's kind of funny that the more you desperately try to pretend that you don't pay attention to her, the more it shows."

"Are you going to tell me the same thing as Trish?"

"I don't know what Trish told you, but she’s intelligent in her own right. Great minds think alike. I know that the girl attracts you because of her blood, but she’s a charming and strong woman too. Perhaps you could really like her."

"Drinking the blood of your partner is not exactly a commendable activity. You always forget the part where it’s not only sexual arousal. I could harm her too." There was silence between the two. Giorno's tone was much less controlled than normal. "Antonella is waiting for you, you shouldn't keep her waiting."

Bruno nodded and left. He knew when someone needed to be alone. It wasn’t for nothing that he had been in a relationship with someone with a special character for so many years.

Having only tied up the top of his hair, he was almost grateful for it, because after digging his fingers into his scalp, it had become disheveled and he had to loosen his hair.

Talking to Bucciarati had helped him put into words and say aloud what had been lingering in the back of his mind, things he had been too scared to even think about.

He could lose control and hurt her. It wasn’t even just a problem of biting her. He had noticed that his will would not matter to him when he desired her and her body. He was terrified because while he felt his blood boil in his veins, he felt that he could take her. He was more powerful than her. He didn't need her permission.

The very idea of taking someone by force made him want to vomit, and he felt that he had a monster inside him that told him that the world was his and he could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. He hated that monster.

Breaking Jolyne, raping her, keeping her locked forever, these were things the monster would enjoy. He wanted to kill that monster and he had to find a way.

Chapter 11: Sissy That Walk

Chapter Text

As they got out of the car, Jolyne eyed the building in front of them, becoming absolutely certain that the immense yellow palace could not be a cheap place to walk in. Knowing that their expenses were going to be paid for out of someone else's pockets partly relieved her, but on the other hand, it also made her feel a bit guilty. Yes, Giorno might deserve a humongous bill for everything he put her through, but as she walked in, she realized that perhaps it was too high of a price.

Trish tugged on her arm a couple of times before she managed to put her arm around Jolyne’s shoulders precariously. Even in heels, the pink-haired girl was smaller, but that didn't stop her from taking the lead.

"Don't let the grandness of this place intimidate you. The more exclusive it is, the safer, and Giorno doesn't put a price on safety. Besides, he can afford it."

Jolyne didn't know how long she was going to be staying with them, but she was sure that she wasn't going to need as many clothes as Trish seemed to think.

At first, Jolyne was more involved in choosing clothes. She felt like an idiot for choosing a comfortable-looking black outfit as her next escape wear—yes, she hadn’t given up on that—because it was one of Versace’s designs. It was about to become the most expensive escape kit in the world.

She liked to go shopping, she really did, but she didn't know where the pink-haired girl got so much energy from. In the end, she told her that whatever she decided on was fine. Trish made her want to eat her words a while later after she started buying even more things. Jolyne had to go back to at least picking things that she did like.

The boys trailed not too far behind them. Even though Narancia didn't need to eat, he kept up the habit by complaining that he was hungry, which everyone knew was a lie.

"This site also has an archaeological museum. Maybe we can see it from one of the restaurants. Or would you prefer another one on the other side?" Trish asked.

Even though this whole shopping spree was wearing her out, Jolyne couldn't help but smile. Trish was just trying to help her out and her enthusiasm made Jolyne forget for a bit about the things that were going on in her life.

At some point during their delicious meal, Trish paused and said seriously, “You could think of me as some kind of big sister, you know. Whenever you need something, come to me.”

“Sure…” Jolyne found herself saying, and Trish looked at her excitedly.

“You mean it? It’s so boring to always be around men! I’ve always wanted a little sister. A sorellina.”

The way the word 'sorellina' slipped past Trish's lips sounded very beautiful to Jolyne.

“So..rellina,” she tried to repeat, but Trish held up a finger.

“Oh no, you’re Sorellina since you’re younger, but as the older sister, I’m your sorella. Try that.”

“Hey! I want to call her Sorellina too!” Narancia protested from behind them, speeding up a little to walk side by side with Jolyne.

Trish waved at him dismissively. “No. Get your own nickname for her.”

What ensued was some bickering about who got to call Jolyne what. While in the end, the two ended up both calling her sorellina, Abbacchio suggested to the younger girl that she call them what he did—‘brat rats’.

“But you love us!” Narancia shouted. Despite the posh atmosphere, no one scolded him. The older man, however, put his arm around Narancia’s neck in what seemed like a mixture of a hug and attempted suffocation.

Jolyne began to feel worse when she saw that there were no bags and there was no way to control their spending. Apparently, the boutiques would take their products home directly. If the palazzo could be called home, that is.

"Hey girl, listen, I know you feel bad because it's a ton of money," Abbacchio said to her as they watched Trish chase after Narancia, trying to convince him to buy a suit. "I understand where you’re coming from, but know that it's the boss’ money."

Jolyne nodded, but deep down, the blonde’s allowance made her feel bad. She felt spoiled for spending so much. Then a devilish smile drew on Abbacchio's face, and Jolyne understood how a person as special as Bruno had fallen in love with him.

"Well, since it's Giorno's money, we'll have to spend more. Let's go get some makeup."

Narancia sat outside, but Jolyne understood why Trish was looking forward to going shopping with Abbacchio. The goth didn't buy as much as Trish, but he did select a few products. Not only did they choose a lot of makeup and brushes, but also a good supply of skin and hair treatment products, as well as accessories, a hairdryer, and a hair straightener.

"Believe me, girl, Giorno can spend much more than this just on hairpins. Not to mention Bruno and his hair accessories..."

When they learned that the shop assistants at La Perla , an underwear shop, knew Abbacchio by name, Trish started making dirty jokes. She stopped only when Narancia begged her not to continue. Knowing about Bruno and Leone's sex life was practically like knowing about their parents'.

"What surprises me is that you don’t seem to know your way around in these types of stores. I mean, as an heir to Joseph Joestar, you’re supposed to be super rich."

"You didn’t read her papers," said Abbacchio. "She won't receive her trust fund until she’s 21."

"My trust fund?" Jolyne asked blankly.

"Oh my poor Sorellina, did you not know that you’re rich?" Trish asked her.

"There are many things about my family that I don’t know about." And inadvertently, she remembered her dad.

It was obvious to everyone that the girl's spirits were crushed. They decided to go find something else to entertain her.

Although Giorno owned a large library, most of the books were in Italian, and he would surely not mind more. At the bookstore, out of all the books, Jolyne selected a copy of Twilight . Noticing that Abbacchio was trying not to laugh, she tried to justify her purchase, telling him that she had heard that it was a good book. Unbeknownst to her, he was actually thinking about how Giorno secretly possessed signed copies of all of the books in the saga, oblivious to the fact that Abbacchio knew.

As they passed a toy store, three of them slowed down and stared at it for a bit too long while feigning disinterest. Abbacchio sighed heavily and entered, with the others following behind him gleefully.

Narancia went to the video game aisles, reminding Jolyne of Emporio. How was he doing right now? She knew he was capable of taking care of himself, but not knowing about his current state or whereabouts troubled her. The strident colors and shapes in every corner began to overwhelm her, so she moved to the preschool kids’ section.

Barring the new, updated looks for the time, most of the assortment was stuff similar to what she had owned in her childhood, which made sense now when thinking about her family’s wealth. She paused, stopping before one particular plushie.

"If you’d like a stuffed animal, it wouldn’t hurt to buy one. It would look perfectly fine in a girl's room," Trish said, coming up beside her. She was about to make another comment when she saw the thick tears streaming down Jolyne’s face. "Sorellina, non piangere per favore. I mean, please don’t cry.”

Jolyne hadn’t nearly been aware of the wetness on her face until Trish hugged her.

She missed her mom; she was worried about her dad. She was scared about everything else. She was alone and lost in a strange country with a language that she did not understand.

She realized that this pain and fear didn’t just start with the kidnapping in the swamp. Perhaps it started all the way back when she had first been arrested. Later, too focused on trying to save her dad, she hadn’t let anything get in the way; not the dangers of the prison, the lurking enemies, or even her mess of emotions. It’s how she was able to push forward even when kicked, beaten, and humiliated over and over again within the prison walls.

She had promised herself that she would let it all out once she retrieved the disks and tasted freedom. The time seemed to have already come but...

Freed from the stone walls, she had not made it far before falling into another trap, one she wasn’t sure if she should even escape from. She was just so lost, unsure of what to do.

"I want to know if my mom is ok," she said between brief hiccups. "I want to know how my dad is. I want to know that my friends are fine."

I want to know what’s going to happen from here on out...

Trish hugged her tighter, understanding what it was like to feel this way. She had been dragged out of her childhood home when her own mother died, her world turning upside down, never to become the same again.

"I wish I could do something for you, Sorellina. When my mamma died, I felt disconnected from my environment before I was handed off to the gang. There were people who were after me, but I will tell you the story another day. You are brave and you will be fine. We will help them, I promise."

Narancia looked on uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot. His mouth turned down in pity. "It’s just that we can't leave you a phone number. Giorno says it's too dangerous to risk."

"f*ck Giorno," said Abbacchio, taking out his phone. "Don't say anything about where you are, and after you’re done, we’ll destroy the SIM."

Jolyne couldn't help but hug Abbacchio, her tear-streaked face smiling.

Abbacchio patted her on the head. “Monkey rat, you’re going to end up staining my clothes with your snot. Hurry up before I regret it.”

She tried to call her mother, but neither her cell number nor the house number connected through. Her anxiousness started to rise again, but this was not the time to be crying.

She quickly looked up the number for Green Dolphin Street Prison and prepared to wait until they found the inmate she was looking for. She didn't even want to imagine the money that call was going to cost.

"Gwess?" Jolyne asked.

"Hey bitch, where the hell are you?" asked her former cellmate. "You can't imagine the chaos here. They say that Father Pucci has died."

Chapter 12: Love and War

Chapter Text

"I can't tell you where I am, but I promise I'll send you some money if you tell me what happened," Jolyne said, trying not to sound desperate.

"Well, now that you mention the money, I'm not going to complain, although a guy already paid me in advance for this," Gwess said on the other end of the line. "But feel free to pay me more, I’ve got no complaints. By the way, you never told me that your daddy was so sexy.”

When Jolyne didn’t reply, she continued. "Yeah, Mr. Kujo, he looks a bit like you, but very edgy in the sexy sense." Gwess was alone in laughing at her own comment. "He told me that if we got in touch, I had to inform you that your mom is with him and your friends are well. Also, I’m supposed to call him about this, and he’ll pay me more... "

Without saying another word, Abbacchio took the phone from her, opened the device, and took out the SIM, splitting it in half.

"Well, little monkey rat, you now know your parents are fine, so stop crying and let's go home before Trish decides, God forbid, to go into a sex shop."

Although she was a bit disappointed that she wasn’t able to broach about Father Pucci’s death, Jolyne was in a better mood after hearing the information about her parents and friends. Seeing Abbacchio's utterly terrified face, she didn't complain at all.

The return home had no incidents except for a small fight between Abbacchio and Narancia when he asked for the latter’s cell phone to warn Bucciarati that they were coming back. Obviously, Abbacchio informed Bucciarati of the incident on the phone and he in turn informed Giorno. Most of the purchases had arrived before them, so Jolyne was going to be entertained with a few maids setting things up.

"Ciao, did you have a good time? When the bill came to me, knowing that Trish was in charge, I wondered if you had a problem and couldn't finish shopping." Giorno greeted them from the entrance, pretending as if he was passing by and not that he had been waiting.

"Pff, she wouldn't let me buy her anything. I had a hard time convincing her to buy even one perfume when I wanted to choose at least four for her, and she didn't even want to hear about things like ball gowns or ski suits or jewelry," Trish said. "My Sorellina is too modest, but I will spoil her. "

"Of course, I'm sure you’ll be able to." He turned to Jolyne. "They're taking things to your room. I'm sure you’ll want to supervise them."

Jolyne wasn't an idiot; she knew he was trying to be polite but wanted her to get out of the way so he could talk to them alone. Hence, she left with dignity, hugging her huge dolphin plushie. The maids were friendly and although most were not fluent in English, they did their best to communicate with her.

She didn't really have to do much, so after taking a shower while the efficient maids put her new things in, she lay down on the bed to read Twilight. She'd seen the movies but hadn't read the books. It seemed appropriate to start now while being on the run from a scent-obsessed psycho vampire who was like James.

Meanwhile, three people accompanied the Don in his office, none of whom seemed too happy to be there.

"Before you start, the decision to give her the phone was only mine. They have absolutely nothing to do with this," said Abbacchio firmly. "So if you're going to yell at someone, leave them out of it."

Giorno pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache emerge with force. This headache had not left him since he took the flight to Florida a week ago. The last thing he wanted was to scold his closest ones, but they didn't seem to understand the seriousness of the situation. They did not understand at all what Donatello was capable of or the force with which he desired the girl no matter who he killed along the way. And if he somehow managed to kidnap her, just imagining what that monster intended to do to her made him nauseous.

"You can't imagine how much danger she’s in. And I'm not doing this because I want to. If it were up to me, I would use her as bait..."

"Yeah, put her in a safe cage and fill it with luxuries. Do you know what you'll have? A scared girl who doesn’t even know if her parents are alive," Abbacchio said, looking him straight in the eye without looking away; there were few people who were capable of that. "She’s a person. Perhaps for you the issue of blood does not allow you to see her in another way, but she is a 19-year-old girl who’s in a country she’s unfamiliar with, where the spoken language is just gibberish to her, and she’s forced to live with the criminals who kidnapped her."

"I was scared to death back then when they left me in your hands," Trish added. "My Sorellina, I mean, Jolyne, did not even attain her Stand until a month ago. Before then, she was a normal girl. She has been betrayed, seen her father almost killed, been sent to jail... At her age, she should have enough on her plate already, overcoming the breaking up with her boyfriend and feeling heartbroken. Not this sh*t-show."

Trish put her hands on her hips and began to gain volume and confidence in her voice. "She may have to be stuck here whether she likes it or not, but she deserves at least an explanation from you about everything and to know that her family is fine. Locking her up without information is... just imprisoning her all over again, no better than when she was behind bars!"

"I'm not very smart!" Narancia practically shouted, trying to intervene. "But man, she was crying. Abba and I may be zombies, but we have hearts."

"We can't trust the Speedwagon Foundation, you know..." Giorno sighed wearily. "But I suppose no harm could come out of letting her know whether Dr. Kujo is safe."

Fugo went home that night, as did Trish, who didn't live there either. It was also feeding day for Bucciarati, Abbacchio, and Narancia, which meant that soon he would have to go to Nápoles to feed the locked up zombies. He had been letting time pass, undecided on what to do; they had now been in the dungeon of an old palace for close to five years.

Usually, the date coincided with that of his companions, but he didn't want to leave Jolyne without a Stand user at the palazzo. Unfortunately, Mista was still in Russia. But it’s not like Giorno could completely trust leaving her alone with him either. No matter how much he trusted Mista and his abilities, the gunman wouldn’t be able to do anything if Donatello attacked.

He thought for a moment before calling for a maid. “Go to our guest and ask her if she would like to dine on one of the balconies.”

The maid nodded and left to deliver the message. Some minutes later, she returned with Jolyne’s reply.

“Sir, the madam guest said she’s fine dining alone in her room. She also mentioned that she’s absorbed in her new book.”

He was no fool. He knew that what she was really doing was rejecting being alone with him. It wasn’t any real wonder; all their previous encounters alone were tense. Perhaps it was a childish desire, but beyond the impulses due to his blood, he also wanted to befriend her.

Checking in before going for a night walk was a normal courtesy. He knocked on Jolyne’s door patiently but heard no response. Maybe she was sleeping. Her scent was coming from the room, so she had to be there. That is, unless she had just been abducted, with the room still smelling like her, while Donatello had already calmly stolen her away. Giorno knew it was an outlandish thought, but that didn't reassure him. He called again a little louder, knowing that his volume should wake her up if she was sleeping.

She might have remembered to lock her door that night, but it was nothing Gold Experience couldn't handle. After breaking it, he entered without delay. What he saw made him freeze in his tracks.

Jolyne had changed into more comfortable clothes and was wearing headphones, her face buried into the giant stuffed dolphin she was hugging. Her cries, muffled against the plushie, came in soft spasms. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to go comfort her or turn around and leave. She looked up and saw him just when he had decided on the latter.

"What the hell...?" She jumped up into a sitting position on the bed, taking off her headphones.

"I knocked on the door several times, but you did not answer. I was worried."

"You thought I tried to escape again, didn’t you?" Jolyne said, wiping her tears angrily. "Well no, I just didn’t hear you. Happy?"

Giorno sighed, partly to empty his lungs of the air filled with the woman's perfume. He knew he was on the verge of pissing her off again, so he tried to calm down before speaking.

"I wish I didn’t have to force you to stay. I... I owe you an explanation. Tell you what, it's a wondrous night; I know you saw the garden last night, but would you like to take a walk?"

Jolyne sized him up, eyes scanning his outfit. Despite having been in his office most of the day, he was dressed formally in a red suit so dark it looked black. Underneath, he wore a red shirt with the first buttons undone. She didn't have to look at herself to know that she was a mess in comfortable but expensive clothes, with red eyes and disheveled hair.

"I should change my clothes," she murmured to herself.

"We’re only going to the garden. That won’t be necessary."

"That’s coming from a man who walks in his home dressed in... I don't know what brand that suit is from, but it’s gotta be expensive."

"It's not that expensive, just a Prada... Ok, yes, it's expensive." He looked at her for a few seconds before taking off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves, and taking off his shirttails. "Better?"

"Yeah sure, let me wash my face and put on some shoes first." She went to the bathroom, thinking that he had gone from a runway model to a perfume ad model after removing those articles of clothing, but it didn't seem like he had many different levels.

She didn't want to make him wait too long, not that she even had any reason to take much time, so she just washed her face and untied her braids, leaving only the two buns. She surveyed herself in the mirror for a second. It's not like she had to mind being pretty, but that was better.

When she came out of the bathroom, Giorno was waiting for her. She knew he had the powers of a vampire, that deep down he was a bit like Donatello, and to top it off, he was a mobster, the kind she never thought would exist outside of the movies, with various zombies under his command. She knew that objectively, he was terrifying. And yet he didn't strike the slightest bit of fear in her.

Chapter 13: Wings of a Butterfly

Chapter Text

Even if it was night and they had to rely on a few strategically placed lanterns and the full moon, the garden was still beautiful. They were too close to the city for the stars to be seen but far enough away for the vegetation to drown out the noise.

Jolyne had been there during her escape attempt, but it was not the same to see the thick groves, the romantic ruins, and the large pond while trying to appreciate it instead of hiding away in it. She was not used to seeing gardens like this; of course, Giorno's garden had its flowers and grass, but it was in an exuberance that was far removed from a normal orderly garden.

"So, where do you want me to start?"

Jolyne turned to him, thinking for a second. "Honestly, I don’t really know all that much. If you could start from the beginning, that would be great."

Thus, Giorno began. He told her about a boy adopted by the Joestar family, then about stone masks and vampires. About the theft of a body and how a man who had not been human for a long time used it to continue doing evil and bringing about children into the world whom he did not care for.

"When you're ready, I will introduce you to a friend of your father's. Although, it might be strange even compared to what you're used to."

He told her about being 15 years old, having a dream bigger than him and finding a family, only to lose it soon after. From believing that he had fulfilled his dream to realizing that it was only the beginning of a life that he was not sure he could handle. About Dr. Kujo telling him about his father and what he was going to do to him if he happened to follow in his path. About Pucci and his words of greatness.

Once he had started to speak, he was sincere, which he rarely was, for he also spoke of being afraid. Being so scared that he had decided to turn to Pucci, hiding his fears. About his disappointment at discovering that this supposed family was... well, Donatello.

"Donatello... He murdered my great-grandfather, didn’t he? I mean, it all happened really fast, but he mentioned something about Joseph at the swamp," she said, already guessing the answer.

"Pucci told us that Joestar blood could give us power. I ignored him since I've never cared for the whole thing... The only thing I was remotely interested in was about bringing people back, so I hadn’t paid close enough attention to Donatello until it was too late.”

Although he was unable to look at her, he reached out his hand without thinking to help her cross a small bridge that crossed a stream. Of course, before he offered his hand, she had already jumped the obstacle.

"Joseph Joestar was a brave man. I did not know him for more than a few minutes, but he died saving his daughter, a girl whom Donatello was going to kill without mercy. He was a hero to the end."

"Shizu..." she whispered. "I'm going to kill that bastard."

"There was another man, a Josuke. He was able to heal her in a jiff with his Stand," he clarified, trying to reassure her.

"I didn't even know that Gruncle Josuke had a Stand..." She sighed heavily as she leaned against the railing of the bridge. In the dark, she could not see too much. "I know they did it to protect me, but... it feels weird when thinking about it, that you know more about them than I do."

He didn't have to know Jolyne that much to notice that her blinking had increased in speed, trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill.

She had mourned the death of her great-grandfather long ago and the loss of her family alone many times. But it was as if she had wept for a lie and the new truth was even more painful, burning her inside. She felt like a crybaby lately, especially now that she couldn't actively fight. What could she do other than that? f*ck everything, if she needed to cry, she was going to do it anyway. Her tears fell with an angry pout.

"I don't want to cry anymore," she said with an angry sniff. "I feel like an idiot, but this is bullsh*t."

Everyone at Passione knew that Leone Abbacchio was a tough man who was used to making tough decisions. And now seeing Jolyne cry, Giorno understood why he ended up lending his phone to her to get in touch with her father. His instinct to protect her began to sound stronger than his instinct to possess her.

"I brought you here to keep you safe, but not only for you. Donatello is dangerous." She looked at him, giving her full attention. Her sobs reduced a little. "I told you that my Stand is the only one that can cancel his. He won't mind hurting or killing anyone who comes between you and him. I don't want him to do the same thing he did to Joseph Joestar, you understand?"

Of course, she understood, but that didn't make it hurt any less, although at least now she understood why she was crying.

"I understand, and I think I should thank you." She suddenly began to cry harder. "It's just not fair."

"It’s not." Giorno had seen many tears in his life, many even caused by him, but few ever weighed him down as much as hers. "Please don't cry. Ogni tua piccola lacrima è oceano sopra al mio viso."

"What does that mean?" Jolyne said, looking at him curiously as she tried to wipe away her tears.

"It just means... Nothing, it doesn’t mean anything," he said. She had already laughed at him enough for today.

"Oh come on, that’s not fair." Her curiosity surpassed her sadness. "You know I don't speak Italian."

"Well, you can entertain yourself by learning, and then you will know what I said," he said, relieved that her sobs seemed to be coming to an end. "I learned as a child when my mother and I moved here."

At her curious gaze, he explained. "I am actually Japanese."

"I guess I should be surprised, but you've seen my dad, and he could have fooled me too." She chuckled. "Whatever you said must have been tremendously corny for you not to want to tell me, but I suppose I can entertain myself in finding out. Hell, I have more Italian blood than you. I guess most people don't know that you’re half-Japanese, right?" Giorno confirmed with a gesture. "Gee, I feel like you know a lot about me, yet I don't know anything about you."

"I usually know more about everyone than they would like. It’s just part of my job."

Getting an idea, he bent down and grabbed a handful of gravel. "Well, let me show you something. The power of my Stand."

With a golden glow, the small stones became fireflies that began to flutter across the surface of the lake.

"Donatello's power is to bring back what was. Mine is to create life anew.”

"Cool, you can create life while string it is for me. What a great power, Jolyne," she said sarcastically, although the last part came out almost a whisper.

He was quiet for a moment as they watched the fireflies. "You've beaten quite a few Stand users and kept Donatello at bay by ‘just making strings,' signorina. When I first got my Stand, I only knew how to make frogs. It took me a long time to figure out how I could heal people. They told me that you thought of sewing yourself up with your own stand when you were injured multiple times in a row. You're already strong, but you will be very powerful over time; you just have to learn to handle the Stand well. "

"I hope so because I really want to beat Donatello." She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the light of the fireflies and an expression of doubt that made her seem a bit helpless. "I’ve got to ask because this has been bugging me for a while, but what's Donatello’s deal when it comes to me? I mean, you've made it clear to me that he's crazy and he's a monster, but he wasn't just talking about killing me."

"I don’t know him all too well, but it's not all inside his head..." Giorno appreciated that the darkness obscured the color of his face, as a blush dusted his cheeks. "Joestar blood... It smells, well, delicious. Always. In your case, it has another effect." He sank a hand into his hair before continuing, feeling like he was going to die of shame. "Please don’t think I'm anything like him. I wouldn’t do anything to you against your will. But your blood's scent... It turns us on. A lot."

If Giorno had been able to look at her at that moment, he would have realized that Jolyne was blushing even more than he was.

"It's nothing personal, it's like..." He tried to describe it, and the words came on his tongue. "If I was a drug addict and you were my personal brand of heroin."

There was silence in which Giorno didn't dare look at Jolyne until he heard her giggle. When he turned, he realized that she was covering her mouth in a vain attempt to keep from bursting out into laughter.

"Sorry, but did you seriously explain something to me using a Twilight quote?" She started laughing and laughing, unable to stop. "I'm currently reading the book. Abbacchio laughed when he saw me buy it, but who knew you’d be a fan too?" She attempted to take a deep breath to calm herself. "I’m sorry, but you, a descendant of a real vampire, quoting Twilight is the last detail that has taken my sanity. I need to sit down."

Giorno motioned toward a bench and they went there to sit under the light of the stars and more and more fireflies. As for Jolyne, she couldn't stop giggling. He was thinking of creating some kind of insect when he looked in her direction and saw that there was a huge butterfly flying straight towards her. It landed right on the tip of her nose, her eyes brighter than fireflies.

It was only a few moments before it continued on its way on the night flight, but the expression of Jolyne, who was used to seeing things that could easily be labeled as magic, turned warm and sweet. She looked at Giorno as if to ask him if he had seen what happened too. Not only did his expression soften, but his heart felt lighter too.

Jolyne put her hands to her face and touched the spot where the butterfly had stopped with an expression of happy disbelief. Giorno was tempted to turn everything around him into butterflies, but he held back. Something told him that it was not going to have the effect that a real butterfly had. His subordinates loved her, and even the lepidoptera wanted to be near her. There was something sweet and pure about her, not in the puritan sense, but in the genuine one. He was sure that this had nothing to do with blood. She was a wonderful person who had spent all day in a luxury mall yet was genuinely happy to be the handle of an insect.

"Dude, that was a butterfly kiss."

"I may have quoted Twilight, but you are being incredibly cheesy right now."

"Well, it's your fault for living inside a fairy tale," she said, shrugging her shoulders, pretending to be upset. "Really, this is like a Disney Worldland but without the tourists, and people are instead dressed in expensive designer clothes."

"Well, this is Italy, the birthplace of fashion and fairy tales, signorina," he replied, feeling relaxed for the first time that night. Perhaps more relaxed than he had been in a long time.

"The fashion, maybe, but most of the stories come from northern Europe and the mythology is Greek," she replied, crossing her arms proudly. "I'm not ignorant, I know many things. Maybe not very useful information, but I know stuff.

"To be honest, I’ve already watched the Twilight movies," she told him in an act of trying to sympathize with him. "You know, the typical thing where you claim you’re seeing it just for laughs, yet you just so happen to see each of them on the day of their premiere. Because I'm supposed to be a tough girl and all that. Also, I was obsessed with vampires." She stretched without any shame. "But as much as it destroys my image to say this, I’m gonna say it anyway. This is beautiful."

"Yes," said Giorno, unable to avoid staring at her. "Absolutely beautiful."

The look was so intense that Jolyne couldn't help but notice that it wasn't the lake, the garden, or the fireflies that Giorno was looking at. He was caught.

"I... I'm sorry," he started to say hastily. "I shouldn't... sh*t. It's not that you're beautiful. I mean, yeah, but that's not what... It’s the whole attraction to the blood thing. It’s making me lose my mind. You make me feel drunk and I don't know what I'm saying. It's not because you're pretty." Giorno was horrified at everything he had just said. "I mean, even without the blood involved, you are beautiful."

"Actually, I also think you’re pretty," she told him with an apologetic smile.

"You mean handsome, right?"

"No, I mean pretty. Even though you’re tall and buff, you have lovely golden curls and a beautiful face,” she said with a chuckle. “You’re prettier than me, the pretty Disney prince."

“Handsome prince,” Giorno said in a whisper, a bit annoyed.

"Well, that's your opinion, pretty boy."

"You're being mean." His eyes widened suddenly. He pointed at her accusingly. "I see now. That's how you're able to get along with Abbacchio so well. Do you know what he did to me when we first met?"

When he told her, rather than make her feel bad, the tea incident kept her laughing until her belly ached.

Normally, Giorno wouldn’t like to be laughed at even when they were joking, but there was something about the sleepy Jolyne looking at him with the moonlight reflecting in her hair.

The way she laughed only made him want to hear that sound more. It was weird, but even though he felt the blood calling out to him, he didn't feel the same urgency. In fact, he was beginning to feel not only relaxed but at peace. Had he ever felt so relaxed with someone before?

Apparently, it was mutual, as Jolyne began to yawn. If he thought about it, with the night before and shopping with Trish, she had to have a considerable amount of stamina. He kindly told her that they should go to sleep and walked her back through the garden and the silent mansion. The hallway windows let in all the moonlight until they reached her room.

She stared at him one last time; it was easy to believe that he was the son of a vampire, with all his beauty glowing in the dark. It was a bit difficult not to stare at him sometimes.

They were going to say goodbye when Giorno noticed a leaf stuck in Jolyne's hair and asked her permission to remove it. When he released it, a curl went directly over her face. It was silly, she could have pushed it away, but nevertheless, he didn't think before he moved to tuck the curl behind her ear.

As he ran his fingers over her soft cheek, his hand couldn’t help but linger. She stared at him with her huge green eyes, lips parted. Her lips seemed to be begging for something. At that moment, Giorno believed that he could never refuse her anything.

As she shut her eyes, he leaned in, moving his face closer. He heard a sudden sneeze and felt a breeze on his face before Jolyne scooted away. Without saying anything more than a hasty 'I'm sorry, good night', she fled into her room to take refuge in her bed, covering herself up to her head.

Giorno wiped his face, went to his room, and once safe within the walls of what was his sanctuary, he shouted every expletive he knew into a pillow.

Chapter 14: Stronger

Chapter Text

Sometimes Mista would tell Giorno that he had a great tendency to get mortified and think too much about things. After having mentally repeated the farewell in the hallway a few hundred times, he had to admit that perhaps Mista was right. They might have had a pleasant time, but afterwards…

He had only wanted to remove the leaf from her hair. It really had been his only intention. But then he saw her face, looking like it was waiting for a kiss. Had she been expecting a kiss? Because she sneezed on his face. Maybe she had already been about to. The thought of him looking like a weirdo grabbing her face while she was clearly trying to sneeze horrified him.

It’s not like he ever had any other intentions at all. Yup, he was completely sure. The moment where he was close to her certainly had to be a matter of blood. He didn't want to think about it any more.

It didn't matter that watching her cry had been like getting punched. Maybe he would have felt the same around any other Joestar. He got a chill when thinking of possibly feeling the same way about Dr. Kujo. No matter how attractive the man was, the idea of wanting him was simply impossible for Giorno.

Perhaps the blood thing had made him some kind of half-adolescent vampire. When passing through his adolescence, he did not necessarily like the things that turned him on. Okay, she was very pretty and he supposed she was fine, but he knew people who were better. It was a matter of blood, nothing more.

He should focus more on Donatello and less on Jolyne, that's what he should do. End him and allow the girl to return to her life of normalcy, no longer having to worry about monsters like Donatello. Monsters like him.

Although it was early, he knew that Master Mateo would be up by then, so it was no problem to give him a call. Of course, the elderly professor was delighted to be offered a job by the Don de Passione after working for him with Narancia. He said that he would be delighted to start teaching a lovely young lady that very day at mid-morning.

In another part of the mansion, Jolyne slept soundly. She may have had her doubts about what had happened and would have died of shame, but she was truly tired and had never had trouble sleeping. That's why when a maid went to wake her up, she yelled at her to leave while covering her head with a pillow.

She also ignored them the second time they called, but soon after, the sound of a zipper was heard.

“Rise and shine, Jolyne!”

She tried even harder to burrow under the covers. The next thing she knew, there was a tug on the blankets and pillow. “Jolyne, I’ll throw you into the shower fully-dressed if you don’t get up and eat some of the breakfast we brought you. I’d go shower on my own two feet if I were you.”

In less than two hours, she had her first Italian class.

"Class for what...?" Jolyne asked sleepily. She stared at the cup of coffee in her hands as if it would give her more answers than the two who had come to wake her up.

"Italian. You told Giorno that you wanted to learn, right? Well, he called a teacher," Bruno replied as he went to the closet. "Let's see what you’ll be wearing today..."

"Woah, woah, stop right there. I told him I’d learn, but not right this morning!" Jolyne whined. "f*ck Giorno, ever heard of asking?"

"'f*ck Giorno, he should have asked' is something I say often too," said Abbacchio. "But it’s not like you have much else to do, and honestly, if you make yourself very obnoxious, I'll run out of English vocabulary to insult you. If I insult you in Italian, I want you to be able to understand me."

Her mother had spent years trying to get her ready in time for class. She was sure that if they were to meet each other, her mother would adore Bruno and he would not give her a chance to breathe with his charming bustle. Or maybe she would have rather liked the threat to throw Jolyne in the shower with her pajamas on and the ice water to wake her up.

Finally, she wore the brown Gucci floral dress that Trish had chosen the day before. She seemed like a good girl.

"If you behave well, I’ll buy you a backpack with butterflies," said Abbacchio half jokingly as he accompanied her to the room where the teacher was. "With all that we bought yesterday, we didn't even think about school supplies."

"Leone, my love," said Bruno, leaving for another direction. "You’re wearing Gucci right now. My heart, don’t lie. You love to go shopping."

When she came before the old master, Jolyne tried to be as polite as possible. He seemed like a wise man from a movie. She felt a bit intimidated, especially when she had to confess that she only knew a few words of her mom’s mother tongue.

She had accidentally chosen her Japanese-speaking side of the family because it seemed more fun to learn a language where she had the opportunity to see more cartoons. The possibility of speaking it with her dad as a kind of secret language between the two helped, but the truth was that when she was little, cartoons helped a lot in her decision. And if she was honest, they still did. She wasn't as tied up as before, but she liked manga and anime. Romeo had laughed at her for it, but she told him that there were few series that showed the script quality of Full Metal Alchemist .

She felt strange when thinking of Romeo; the distance had taught her that someone who made fun of her and belittled her did not deserve her. According to F.F., the only thing a guy like that deserved was a bullet between the eyebrows. Normally, Hermes would tell her when she was passing, but this time her two friends agreed.

The teacher was kind and patient. In fact, he seemed delighted with his new student; she was much easier to deal with than Narancia. It was an enjoyable class, especially when they were introducing themselves and checking what was salvageable for Jolyne's Italian. Normally, she wasn't looking to be the master's favorite or anything like that, but this charming man made her want to do well. He had a pleasant Italian accent and a singing tone.

Even though she'd gotten mad at Giorno for making her go to class without asking, she was enjoying herself quite a bit. That didn't mean she wasn't still mad at Giorno for doing things without counting on her when they concerned her. The anger might have been good for her, as it was an emotion she controlled better than being confused. Last night had been confusing and humiliating in equal measure. She was more used to feeling humiliated.

When the teacher told her that it was the end of class for that day, she recalled telling Bruno earlier that using DuoLingo couldn't be that different from having a teacher. She would have to apologize to Bruno. Not Giorno though; she would only apologize if he ever learned to ask permission.

"Oh, buon gior... Bonasera signore Giovanna," greeted the teacher. "The young lady and I have met and she is as charming as you told me. It is a pleasure teaching her." He turned to Jolyne. "I think in a short time, you will be speaking the language without major problems."

"Glad to hear. Do you want to have lunch with us?" Giorno asked him with a polite smile.

"I'd be delighted, but I'm afraid not this time. You will have to settle for just the young lady and her charming company," replied the teacher.

Neither Jolyne nor Giorno were very comfortable with the idea. After how things turned out the night before, they would have appreciated any outside intervention. And for once in their lives, they were lucky. Their lucky star was named Narancia Ghirga.

"Master!" he cheerfully shouted as he entered. "It's a pleasure to see you again. They told me that you’re now teaching my Sorellina."

"Young Ghirga, it is a pleasure to see you again. It seems that you have not aged a day. You still look like a teenager."

Maybe Jolyne didn't know him well, but she noticed some of the boy's cheerful energy fading. Giorno did know him, so he politely bade the teacher goodbye and then went to check that Narancia was okay, although he seemed calm when in Jolyne’s company.

"Before you try, don't apologize. It's not your fault," Narancia said to Giorno. "I'm not sad. It’s just that sometimes..."

"I won't say anything to anyone, but if you want to talk in private..." Jolyne told him.

"It is not necessary, but thank you, Sorellina," Narancia said with a sad smile. "Do you know that I am 17 years old? Folks always tell me that I look even younger than that. What they haven’t told you is that I am actually older than Giorno and Fugo. Bruno, Leone, and I can’t change, or grow old or anything. We’re not alive and sometimes it’s very easy for us to forget that, but man, when we remember... It still hurts."

He looked quickly at Giorno. "But it's not your fault, I don't want to hear you talk about it. I’ve never blamed you. Even if you were in my body, it was all Diavolo. Damn, this has to be really weird for Jolyne and she has to eat, so let's keep our faces from being sad. I found out that you’re going to Hot Topic to finally buy cool things, so I’m going too. Trish is the fashion consultant, but I'm the cool stuff consultant."

Just like that, Narancia wiped away his sadness and was on his merry way again.

If the gang were looking to keep Jolyne busy so that she wouldn't think of depressing things, they were doing a good job at it. After touring various music stores, geek hangouts, and the aforementioned Hot Topic, Jolyne slept peacefully that night, completely spent.

The next day they didn't need to make such a fuss to wake her up. She went to class of her own volition, but this time with Nightmare Before Christmas stationery and a butterfly notebook. Contrary to what one might expect, Narancia chose the stationery and Abbacchio the notebook.

Narancia swung by at lunchtime to tell her to change, as in an hour and a half, she had another class in one of the gyms. This time Bruno led her to the place. While she was dressed in sportswear, he was impeccable in a suit.

"Giorno says that you want to train and that you’re already very good, but for hand-to-hand combat, you need some more work. To assist you in the learning process, they’ve sent you the best assassin in all of Italy," he said in his usual friendly tone.

"And this fearsome murderer," Jolyne said when they arrived at the gym. "Is he hiding somewhere, or did he not arrive yet? Or..." When she looked at Bruno again, she suddenly understood and pointed at him incredulously. "It’s you?

She had barely gestured when her hand fell away from her body to the ground. She did not complain about the choice of instructor again. That night, she almost had to crawl into bed from exhaustion. Bruno's kindness completely vanished when he was teaching her how to fight.

"Our Stands are quite a bit alike, my dear," Bruno told her as he helped her get up off the ground for the umpteenth time. "We both possess close combat stands. I have seen you unravel the strings in your arm to hit further. Have you ever tested the extent to which you could stretch or unravel your body?"

"Once, I unraveled my hand enough to allow my strings to follow my lying traitor of a lawyer. I wanted to discover what he had done and..." She stopped, not having the courage to tell him about what she had done to her lawyer afterward.

"You don't have to tell me, don't worry," Bruno replied kindly. As a member of the mafia, they had their own methods of dealing with traitors, none of which were very pretty.

She was grateful for his understanding nature and quickly changed the topic to something she was more comfortable with. "Anyway, aside from that, I once also wove together a net to catch poisonous frogs before they could touch me... And sometimes I stitch up my own wounds. How's that?"

"That’s very smart! You should consider exercising the extent at which you can separate your limbs from your body. It’s very useful in a fight and for other things too, especially if you have a very tall boyfriend."

"Bruno!" Abbacchio hollered, appearing at the door. "I was coming by to let you know that it's time to have a snack, yet this is what I see. Just what kind of things are you teaching her?"

"Nothing about the size of your penis," Jolyne said so seriously that Abbacchio believed her.

Bruno may have slept on the couch that night, but he gave her such harsh training that her muscles hurt even until the next day. She swallowed her pride and asked Giorno for his healing touch.

Chapter 15: Decode

Chapter Text

Her two teachers were fantastic, and under the tutelage of both, she made a lot of progress. If she had ever considered Bruno only a simple, organized fellow with a useful Stand before, her perspective had changed. This man was dangerous, and every day for the next two weeks, she collapsed in her bed, completely spent.

She still didn’t approve of Giorno organizing things on her behalf without asking, but she was happy with the way her classes were going. Over the following weeks, as her body noticeably became more toned, she also searched for more ingenious ways to maximize her Stand’s ability. Bruno had suggested that she could perhaps develop her ability to a point where she could turn others into strings too, not just herself; it was only a matter of trying.

Trish no longer insisted on taking her out shopping, but a couple of days a week, she would stop by to see her. Sometimes she would stay for dinner and they would watch a movie together.

Narancia had offered to help her train one day, but it ended with her using her Stand to stitch a gunshot wound moments before Giorno barged into the gym and fully healed her. They had both received scolding, but especially Narancia.

She and Fugo rarely talked. When she asked him about his Stand once, he almost seemed offended. Since he always seemed insulted or annoyed, Jolyne decided she wasn't even going to try to converse with him. If she really wanted to hang around someone with a permanent scowl, Abbacchio was a thousand times better.

She hadn't interacted much with Giorno since that night in the garden. They would greet each other politely when passing by but little else. Hence, she was surprised when he sought her out to inform her that he needed to take a short trip to Nápoles. When she was about to wish him a safe journey, he told her to pack for one night.

It was a strange request, but after being cooped up at the palazzo for so long, she wasn’t one to turn him down.

Having become accustomed to the big, high-end but relatively ordinary cars they'd used to get around town, she shouldn't have been impressed by the Maseratti. She only closed her gaping mouth when she espied Giorno watching her from the corner of her eye.

She hadn’t been out a lot, but she quickly came to realize that Italians had a special way of driving. A way that she liked to call "fast and without respect for the lives of others or their own." Giorno completely shined in this regard.

"I know your Stand can heal and also bring back the dead, but I’d rather we not go down that road," Jolyne told him, gripping onto her seatbelt like a lifeline after seeing him pass someone at twice the speed limit.

"I'm not going that fast," he tried to tell her, but even he knew he was lying. "Bene, I suppose I can slow down a bit."

As he decelerated the car, she took the time to marvel at how comfortable he looked sitting in a seat that was clearly too small for him. The car itself was also pretty low. It was lucky that the vehicle was designed with the comfort of all kinds of drivers in mind. His seat was pushed back, with his long legs stretched out before him as his foot switched between the foot pedals.

The music did nothing to ease the uncomfortable silence. As Jolyne stared out at the passing unfamiliar buildings and occasionally strange Italian architecture, wondering why he refused to tell her about his business in Nápoles, Giorno spoke up. "Do you mind showing me how your Italian lessons are coming along?"

“Sure…”

She had been under the impression that she didn't have much of a vocabulary to carry on a conversation, but it was amazing how well she managed. After making a joke about Twilight, she learned a surprising fact about Giorno.

“Wait, you’re on Team Jacob? Seriously?”

He shrugged a shoulder, keeping a steady hand on the wheel. “I just can’t stand vampires. Werewolves are superior in every way.”

Jolyne looked at him with a face of utter betrayal and irony. “But vampire powers are so cool!” She began to speak passionately in their defense.

After briefly reverting to English because she was unable to clearly express her genuine curiosity as to whether Giorno could turn someone into a werewolf—no, he couldn't; he'd tried to transform things into non-existent creatures but failed—they went back to the main topic and decided that they liked none of the main couples. With Nápoles in the background, they determined that they favored Rosalie and Emmett the most.

"Can't you tell me where we're going now? Please?" Jolyne begged him.

"It's... too complicated for me to explain. I don't feel comfortable about the subject."

"Oh, so it’s not mob stuff, but personal matters. Hey, I get it. Your stuff is your business. And if it's sh*t that you don't feel comfortable talking about, I respect that. Will I be staying in the car, or...?"

"It's a strange and complicated affair that you could never tell anyone about. And it's bad; it says a whole lot about me."

"Is it any worse than what Donatello has done?"

When putting it that way, Giorno mustered the courage to divulge a little. "Well, you know about Bruno, Leone, and Narancia, correct? When I first tried to bring them back, I didn't really know what I was doing and I made a mistake. A grave mistake."

"Did people die?" she asked, trying to help him along. He seemed to want to share the story despite his shame.

"Rather, the opposite," Giorno said, trying to be stoic. He stared straight ahead in concentration as they neared their destination, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh." Her eyes widened as realization dawned upon her. "You created zombies, like in the movies?"

"Something like that." He parked the car in front of a large farmhouse but didn’t get out immediately. He turned to her with a serious expression. "What’s going to happen is not pleasant. They’re going to eat. I won’t tell you not to come since you already know now, but I’m warning you that it'll be very ugly."

"Don't worry, I'm not curious enough to risk adding more repertoire to my nightmares."

After he left, Jolyne made herself more comfortable in her seat. She would have liked to take off her shoes and socks, curling her legs together into a crisscrossed position on the seat, but she instead played around with the Maseratti’s setting gears till she settled on one she liked.

Her gaze inadvertently landed on the empty driver's seat and the steering wheel. She stilled.

For the first time, she was alone with a means of escape. Who knew how long Giorno would be preoccupied with the zombie business? More than enough time for her to start the car with her Stand, at least, and go far…

But where could she go? Who could she call? Perhaps calling Gwess and having her contact her father would be appropriate, but she wasn't so sure.

Then there were also spies following her. Perhaps Giorno was a bit too strict with the security measures, but having met Donatello, she could maybe see why. The thought of falling into his clutches terrified her not only for all that he might do to her, but also the possibility of him gaining a power granted to him by her blood.

Living sexually enslaved by a monster that would use her to possibly unleash a plague of vampires on the world was not something she wanted for her future. She would rather die.

Her best bet was to place her trust in Giorno. To her surprise, she realized that she was already starting to. She was not afraid of him and she was sure that he would never hurt her, but... her trust extended even beyond that.

He had been sincere about things that were difficult to share, especially for someone of his position. Maybe she would regret it later, but for now, she was willing to put her faith in him.

Abbacchio had packed a book into her speedy luggage. From the look of him, she would have guessed that he was a fan of Stephen King, but the book he had chosen for her was actually quite humorous. It was a fantasy novel with witches, social criticism, ironic humor, and a strange kindness towards the reader. Perhaps Terry Pratchett wasn’t such a strange choice for the sweet-hearted goth after all.

Engrossed within the pages, she jumped when one of the doors flung open. Giorno looked a little paler than usual as he entered; he didn't look very agitated, but he seemed less composed than he normally was. She watched him grip the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Normally, she avoided physical contact with him because of the special case with her blood, but this time, she couldn't help but pat him on the shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, trying to break the ice. "If you want, maybe we could find a way to, y’know, send them on their way to sleep forever."

He gently took her hand off his shoulder. "I am so useless. I resurrected them by mistake out of my own carelessness. It’s not fair that they should pay for my crime of being useless. I know that I should be brave and do the right thing instead of continuing to be so..."

"Call yourself useless again and I'll punch you in the face," Jolyne cut him off. "Dude, do you really think it's useless if accidents occur while breaking the rules of nature? You're a little too hard on yourself." Thinking for a second, she suddenly bounced in her seat. "I know what you need. A fight!"

"A fight," Giorno replied slowly.

"Yes, a fight. You need to relax, and a fight always helps. But I mean a real friendly fight. Not, like, against Bucciarati, or you’ll probably be left on the verge of a coma." She rubbed her hands together nervously before looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. "See, I’ve been training in case I need to defend myself against Donatello. Since your powers are supposed to be on par with his, it would really help to see what I'm up against."

When he was slow to respond right away, she held her breath and waited.

"Okay,” he finally said, eliciting an excited squeal from her. “A friendly fight. But not here. Let’s take it to the courtyard of the villa where we’ll be staying."

"Well, drive like an Italian then and let's hit the road!"

Going to the Nápoles village with Jolyne seemed strange. It was as if the two things in his life that he did not want to intersect, everything surrounding Donatello and his beginnings in Passione, had collided. One he wanted to put aside as soon as possible but was unable to avoid, while the other had been his own choice. And yet, instead of taking the long, tiring trip back to Rome, or even taking Jolyne to any of the hundreds of other places in the city, he had brought her to what he considered in his heart to be the first home he had ever known. And he had done it so he could get punched by her.

The empty villa was lit only by streetlight. They had barely gotten out of the car and took a step toward the small front yard when he noticed the Bucciarati style in her. The man who never followed the rules for fighting had taught his pupil to do the same. She caught Giorno in her strings and tried to make him fall.

He had underestimated her strength; she was almost able to knock him down right away. When had he become such a rookie? He considered just dodging her for a while, for that would be a good exercise, and it would help him...

He received a punch in the stomach, warning him that he should focus.

"Are you okay?" she asked without looking the least bit remorseful.

"I’m doing perfectly. Now, my turn."

It turned out that landing a hit on Jolyne was a lot more difficult than it seemed, and defending against her as well. At first, he refrained from using Gold Experience, but after a while, the Stands were fully involved, holding nothing back but its ultimate reversion move.

Giorno realized that he had misjudged her once again. Although he noticed Bruno's training, there was something about her fast counterattack and strategy that was also exclusive to her.

Of course, Gold Experience Requiem topped Stone Free, but Giorno couldn't deny that this could be partly attributed to the fact that he had much more experience than her. There was no saying whether it would be the same next time.

In addition to being clever and fast, she was determined and unafraid of getting hurt even in a friendly confrontation. Between keeping the fight friendly and attacking him head on, she was beginning to choose the latter.

What had to happen happened. A bad hit with too much force caused the first blood to spill. Giorno's fist was streaked in red liquid that seeped from Jolyne’s lip.

Suddenly, everything changed for him. He was unable to take his eyes off Jolyne's mouth. The blood contrasted greatly against her green lipstick. He wanted to lick the wound. And then kiss her, bite her, suck on her, and...

Jolyne snapped her fingers twice in front of his face before grabbing his hand and wiping the bloodstain off.

"Nope, none of that vampire weirdness right now, buddy," she told him, paying no mind to her possibly busted lip.

"I'm sorry," he said with shame, trying to focus more on the humiliation he had just felt than the desire he continued to feel.

"Don’t apologize when it isn’t your fault. I’m the one who suggested this. I should have remembered that you have a serious case of hematolagnia." She raised her brows at his surprised expression. "What? I read books."

"I don't doubt they must be interesting to contain words like that," he said, trying to joke. "Please let me heal you."

"I can stitch myself up with Stone Free fine."

"But I really need your wound to heal completely."

"Ok man, but your healing hurts like a bitch." She tried not to wince as he sealed her wound, his fingers tickling the part of her lips they touched. "Actually, I’m kind of worried now. When I’m on my period, you’re gonna get really weird, aren’t you?"

"Ugh." Giorno's ever-composed face showed disgust. "You're obscene."

"And you’re a half-vampire master of zombies. Now let's go inside before my ass freezes. Hey, is it me, or has the temperature dropped quite a bit?"

"Maybe." Giorno gathered up the things in the car, refusing to let Jolyne help. "Let's go inside. You’ll be staying in Trish's bedroom."

"As the Don orders," Jolyne said before entering.

She was right, the temperature constantly dropped lower that night, but only for the two of them. Someone watched them in the darkness.

Chapter 16: Du Riechst So Gut

Chapter Text

Although the temperature often dropped during the night in Nápoles, a coastal city, the extent that night was quite absurd for that time of year. Even though Giorno was well covered, he felt a chill course throughout his body from time to time. He wondered if Jolyne felt the same and if he should go check on her. To make sure she was okay, not for any other reason.

Whatever his feelings or impulses, he had to suppress them for the moment. He had brought her there to save her from his brother, not to f*ck her. But was it really normal to be so cold? Then he realized that he had been so busy scolding himself and talking nonsense that he hadn't realized the sheer abnormality of the situation.

He manifested his Stand and dashed to Jolyne's room. He found her shivering by the door.

"This is..." Giorno started.

"Yes, it seems to be a Stand attack."

"You should stay here while I look for the user."

"Yeah, and freeze to death here? Like hell I will. I'm coming with you. I've already shown you that I can fight. So, unless you’re planning to tie me up, I'm heading out."

The idea of tying her crossed his mind, but he decided that since she had been able to keep Donatello at bay in the swamp for so long, she could handle this. Bruno had told him that she was capable. The fight a while ago had also confirmed it.

Since they had not packed appropriate clothing for the cold, they went down with blankets.

"Would you mind if we huddled together? Two blankets are better than one," Jolyne said through chattering teeth.

Yes, he did mind. Giorno knew he would feel uncomfortable, but as he watched her shiver, he remembered that she had grown up in Florida and was probably not used to the cold. He pulled open his blanket to allow her to snuggle up to his side.

The body heat was pleasant and even though her smell was distracting, having her in his arms and seeing her shivers end was gratifying. At the same time, he was able to keep her safe, holding her protectively under his arm. Only protection and warmth, nothing else. He did not know why he thought of Abbacchio's sarcastic smile at that moment, but he quickly pushed it out.

As they went outside, Giorno noticed something. The plants did not seem to be cold. It was as if the freezing temperature was only targeting the two of them, confirming their suspicions of a Stand attack.

He wasted no time. Gold Experience Requiem manifested behind them as he took on a vigilant stance.

"I don't want to hurt you," they heard a voice call from an area that the streetlights did not illuminate. "I just wanted to knock you out and escort the girl back to her boyfriend."

"Why don’t you show yourself?" Giorno asked. His gaze was alert and wary, scanning the dark corners all around them.

Jolyne shifted her weight beside him. "Wait, what boyfriend?" she said sharply.

"My name is Rikiel," said the man as he stepped out into the light.

His silhouette was tall. The closer he got, the more beautiful he seemed, despite his strange clothes, which were a combination of different animal pattern prints styled into a robe and trousers. He looked a bit like Giorno, but with straight magenta locks of hair that touched his shoulders. It wasn't just his looks though, but his aura too. He had a hulking figure like the blonde and his features were stunning. If one were to squint, they would notice that he looked a bit like Donatello too, but without the same malice.

For a moment, Jolyne remembered Anasui. This man was something like him but more handsome.

"Okay, Rikiel, sir, what boyfriend are you talking about? You couldn’t possibly mean Donatello, could you? Here’s a piece of advice. Don’t listen to anything that psychopath says." She remembered Anasui again and corrected herself. "What those two psychos say. I've been single and free for months. Hell, if I see my ex again, I'll break his nose. Whatever it is they’ve told you, they’ve lied to you."

"Donatello and Father Pucci warned me that you would say that. Giovanna has brainwashed you. I saw you fight him a while ago, so I know you want to escape."

"Brainwashed my ass!" Jolyne shouted, her face turning red.

Giorno immediately latched on to one important detail. "Father Pucci is alive?"

"Maybe I've spoken too much," Rikiel muttered almost uncertainly. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will use force if necessary."

"Ugh, here we go again." Jolyne cracked her knuckles. "Are you another one of Dio's sons?"

She did not need an answer; his attitude spelled it. That and the fact that he looked like his brothers. She let go of Giorno, who had stiffened at some point during the whole exchange, and slipped out of the blanket, walking steadily toward Rikiel.

When she sensed Giorno trying to follow, she shook her head. "No, I’ll handle this." She clenched her fists. "Come on, magic Joestar blood, make this one act up too."

Giorno would have felt offended if it weren't so true. He remained in the same spot, watching Jolyne’s back while also keeping an eye on their foe and the surroundings.

“Sky High!” Rikiel shouted when Jolyne got close.

She waited for his stand to manifest but became distracted when she felt something in the air change. Her body suddenly felt so much colder than before. One look behind her confirmed that Giorno was also beginning to shiver, despite being covered in two blankets, hers and his own. She whipped her head back around but suddenly found it hard to see anything. It was as if her eyelids were trying to glue themselves shut, blurring her vision. They kept drooping down no matter how hard she fought to keep them open.

Releasing a shout of rage and frustration, she rushed forward, using her strings to scout the area before her like a blind person would with a cane. Fortunately, she had the advantage of being able to use her strings as an extension of herself to sense the world around her.

One string managed to graze something that felt like the ends of a robe. Just when she was about to leap forward and release a barrage of punches, she felt a new sensation against her strings. She felt a chill again and the temperature in her body dropped to another low. The feeling was much worse than the deadly, traumatizing fever she had experienced when she was seven.

She switched gears and quickly wove her strings into a net around her, wanting to test her suspicions. When the same strange sensation came again, she sprung the net into a tightly bound trap she had recently been practicing to make.

She didn’t need her eyes to look in order to know. She could feel the things thrashing around within her string trap.

“Giorno! Some kind of tiny invisible creatures are behind this!”

Despite having them trapped, her body temperature continued to plummet to scary lows but at an even more incredibly rapid rate. She released the creatures with a gasp, feeling her head go numb.

"What the hell are those things? They were sucking the body heat from me!" she shouted. "Ok then, Stone Free!"

Her plan was simple. Take care of the problem at the roots by tying up Rikiel and beating him up; simple and direct. The problem was that her body would not obey her. It moved at a slow pace and even her strings were getting difficult to maneuver.

"What did you do to me?" Jolyne growled at him, opening her eyes a crack.

"Stay still! I don't want to hurt you but the rods will if you don't stop," Rikiel replied, raising his arm. Something like a small creature seemed to be perched on the back of his wrist but she couldn’t make it out clearly. "And don’t come close. My brother also warned me that your Stand could do strange things to me if you touched me."

Jolyne gritted her teeth, mulling over something for a quick second before attempting to move one of her arms. She struggled for a while, but after multiple tries, she finally managed to dig a hand into her bra. Luckily, she had managed to throw it back on before Giorno had come barging in to check on her.

She almost lifted her pajama shirt without any shame, making the two dhampires blush like maidens. "You don't want to hurt me?" she muttered, searching around before pulling out a pocket knife. "Well, sorry to disappoint."

"You won’t be able to injure me with that, miss," Rikiel said, noticing her action.

Giorno had a different pressing question. "Where did you get the knife from?" After her last escape attempt, he had made sure that no weapons were left in the vicinity.

"I stole it from Narancia. He’s still looking for it." She would have laughed at another time, but the gravity of the current situation led her to remain serious and focused on her adversary.

"It's not for you," she said to Rikiel with a smile as she thrust out her bare arm. "I'm going to show you what’s got a bitch like Donatello moaning as if he's in heat."

Before either of the men could react, the blade plunged into her arm, causing blood to gush out. It was like a blow to both of their senses.

"Giorno, don't dally now! Hold your nose and try to help!" she shouted before making a second cut, holding back a cry.

Giorno was used to the pulse of her blood, but not this strong. He quickly ripped his handkerchief into two pieces and balled them up before stuffing them into his nose. Perhaps it was not the most elegant thing, but it was the most effective.

As for the situation, returning Rikiel’s attack against him to zero would be a simple task. However, that would not guarantee protection for anyone else beyond himself, the one Requiem actively sought to protect. Jolyne would likely continue to suffer through the cold attacks, especially if those strange little creatures attacking them had a will of their own that was independent of the stand user.

He didn’t even consider the death loop. In all his years as Don de Passione, he had never had to resort to such a thing after having inflicted it on his black hearted predecessor. There were very few people whose misdeeds could amount to all that Diavolo had piled up, but even so, Giorno always found ways to best them and punish them without borrowing the power granted by the arrow.

Cheating—the arrow could certainly be considered a cheat in a way—only made one grow soft and overeliant; he’d learned the hard way all those years ago in New York what would happen if it failed him when he needed it most.

If the situation really did take a nosedive for the worst, Gold Experience Requiem would then step in to take care of it. But until that point was reached, he’d just grow new body parts for himself if any were damaged or lost, bearing with the pain.

All would be taken in stride so that there was no chance he would ever be useless again.

His brain quickly filed through everything he knew so far. Rikiel had mentioned "rods" and Jolyne described them as invisible little creatures. It wasn’t much, yet it was more than sufficient. He formed a plan.

He had never seen creatures like these rods before, but he had read about them. They were smaller than what he was used to, but now that he knew they were there, he knew where to look. Any who approached him found a tardigrade waiting to eat them; there were few tougher beings than the mossy little creatures. Soon, the cold and immobility began to end.

In truth, he hadn’t needed to worry about Jolyne. The rods targeting her had stopped persisting shortly after she'd started bleeding. Under their summoner’s direction, they either went on their merry way or ended up pursuing Giorno instead.

Rikiel felt totally dazzled. He had been made to drink blood before, but none called out to him in such a clear way. Donatello and his feelings of possession towards the woman were the last things on his mind. Never had he wanted something so badly as he did now to lick those wounds. He approached her outstretched arm as if she were a syren and he a bewitched sailor.

His transfixed state turned to astonishment when he felt a fist make contact with his face. The blue Stand, now completely freed from the control of the rods, hit him mercilessly. Jolyne also wasted no time kicking him. She grimaced with every blow she dished out from her fist, making it obvious that her arms ached to hit him. The second kick, however, went through him as if he was immaterial.

She blinked, wondering if it was a trick or illusion. She punched him again to test her theory, but the same thing as before happened again. Lifting her gaze off her arm, which had plunged through his chest, she met his fidgety yet glazed expression.

Rikiel sucked in a breath. The blood on her arm that drove his senses crazy was now technically inside of him. When Jolyne pulled out, he felt a sense of loss and emptiness.

Panting while clutching her bleeding arm, Jolyne’s mind worked at a hundred miles per hour. She had thought she had his ability figured out, but it seemed that he had more tricks up his sleeve. Was it some kind of extension to his main ability? This power was strangely very familiar, however.

Almost as if in answer, a Stand materialized behind Rikiel. It was not his.

Her eyes rounded in recognition, heart thudding in her chest. “Diver Down,” she said as she backed away. "That’s Anasui's Stand. Why is it here with you? And how are you able to use it? What… What have you done to him?"

All the fears about what might have happened to her loved ones in Florida came back and hurt more than the cuts on her arms. She almost tripped backwards in horror. It was just so strange seeing her attacker with the Stand of someone who she knew would never hurt her.

She felt hands on her shoulders, along with words of reassurance that she almost completely understood.

"Farà un po' male, bella." Seconds later, a golden glow spread through her. There was pain, but she bore with it. It incidentally helped pull her out of her shock. "It must be the work of Pucci's Stand, it has to be."

"Listen Rikiel, Pucci is a f*cking monster who put me behind bars as bait to lure in my dad. He treats prisoners like garbage and steals pieces of people's souls to give to his minions, just like he’s done with you," Jolyne told him coldly and calmly. If someone who knew Jotaro saw her at that moment, they would tell her that she reminded them of her dad. "Not to mention that Donatello wants to rape me, eat me, and enslave me, though I don't know in what order. Do I look brainwashed to you? Maybe you're the brainwashed one, you f*cking idiot!"

"Donatello is my brother. He would never lie to me!" Rikiel tried to defend himself.

"Did he tell you how he punctured a little girl's veins when he mistook her for a Joestar?" Giorno replied in a calm voice. "Has he told you that he can't fight my Stand? That's why he sent you. Everyone except Jolyne is expendable to him. He's also my..." He sighed before spitting out the next word. "Brother. But that doesn't change the fact that he’s a monster."

"He's your brother, but we surpassed him in strength, and right now, I want to beat him up," Jolyne finally said. "Nobody calls me 'Donatello's girlfriend' and gets away in one piece. Give me Anasui's disk, cute little monster. You’ve tortured my friends and..."

"I haven’t tortured anyone," he rebutted. "The user of this disk is still alive; I can only use his stand temporarily. But if something happens to me, he will die. So, if you want him to live, I must go back..." He seemed confused and unsure of what to actually do. "As for your friends, I don't know how they are doing, but I heard that Father Pucci is furious because Jotaro Kujo is standing up again and looking for him. There are two girls with him too. They’re fine... I can't tell you anything else."

He seemed sincere, his face conveying regret as if he really had never wanted to harm her. His warm gaze on Jolyne instinctively made her understand that he was not an enemy.

"You could join us or even the Speedwagon Foundation. They would help you," Jolyne replied, her expression beseeching. "Help us and let us help you, Rikiel. Please."

"I..." He smiled sadly before retreating back a step. "I'd really like to, but if I don't go back, your friend will pay the consequences." He turned to Giorno. "I don't know what to think, really. But I want to figure out some things on my own. Could I come back once I do?"

Giorno nodded solemnly and they both watched Rikiel disappear into the darkness again.

The night was no longer cold, but a strange feeling settled within them both. For Giorno, it was the heaviness of the knowledge that perhaps he had left behind siblings who had really needed him, and for Jolyne, it was not knowing what was really going on with her friends.

Then Jolyne turned to Giorno and looked at him for a few seconds before saying:

"Can you tell me what’s up your nose?"

Chapter 17: Sexy and I Know It

Chapter Text

Ordinary people would find it hard to fall asleep after a tough battle, but Jolyne hit the sack as soon as she fell into bed. She was already snoring when Giorno came shortly after to check if she needed anything.

He carefully tiptoed his way back toward the room’s exit, trying not to make a sound. But then she made a cute noise that caused him to turn his head, only to accidentally knock over one of the little boxes Trish had placed on the dresser. That’s when he discovered that he could have walked in with a marching band and it still would not have woken her up.

He was relieved but also envious that she could get a good rest despite the bombells dropped on them from the previous night, especially about her friend.

The next morning, a few subordinates brought them coffee—real coffee, as Giorno had pointed out, not what she was used to in Florida—and some cakes to appease her anger about having to burn her clothes. She found it excessive to toss anything from Prada, but Giorno had told her that he was not planning to drive to Rome with something that was stained with her blood, the lingering smell faint but distinct. The cleaning crew would incinerate it anyway. Jolyne liked her pajama top, but the second cannoli made her forget her disgust.

There was much to discuss. Like how the enemy managed to circumvent their protocols and appear in front of the pair as if it was nothing. The enemy hadn't been able to do anything inside the palazzo, but they surely knew where it was. It was not difficult to obtain that piece of information for those who moved through criminal circles.

Giorno had promised Jolyne that she would be safe with him, yet she had had to help him by using her own blood as a means of distracting Rikiel. He remembered a similar situation in Twilight . He loved that series, but if Bella was half as determined as Jolyne, it would have been a 50 paged book.

Jolyne, flipping through the radio stations, stopped short when she came across a song that she not only knew but loved. She began singing along.

Girl look at that body

Girl look at that body

Girl look at that body

I-I-I work out

Jolyne pointed at Giorno several times, trying to get him to join, but it was no use. He glanced at her as he drove.

"Don't bother. I don't know this song."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "I know you're serious and all, but aside from Twilight, you’re like a jiji. Just how old are you? Now that I think about it, you've never told me your age."

"No one else told you? I'm 25, the oldest of my... brothers." He spoke the last part as if it cost him. "I don't know specific birth dates or anything like that, but from what I know, Donatello is about 24 and Rikiel around 23."

"I only asked about yours, but I guess thanks for the information about that psycho and Riki."

Although the cheerful music continued, Jolyne no longer bobbed her head to the beats or sang along. She had noticed Giorno’s tenseness but couldn’t make heads or tails of the reason for his strange behavior. Until he finally exploded.

"We left you no arms so that you wouldn’t try to escape again, but after witnessing that whole fiasco with the pocket knife, perhaps it really was for the best." He unconsciously accelerated, the sports car responding easily to the commands. "Not only did you not care about your own safety, cutting yourself as if you were pepperoni, but you hadn’t even considered that 'Riki' could have bitten you. Do I need to remind you that he is a half-vampire and that your blood drives him crazy?" He released a heavy sigh. "I could have bitten you too, and I... "

"You wouldn't hurt me," she said with complete conviction. "Maybe I don't completely trust you, but on this, I have nothing but utter faith in you. I’d say I even feel safe around you. Yes, you get a little weird sometimes, but you always seem super guilty after looking at me oddly for more than two seconds. You would never hurt me; I'm sure of it. Maybe even surer than you are of yourself."

Giorno tried to focus on driving while mentally praying away a blush. How Jolyne was able to say such things so calmly was something that always caught him by surprise. He wondered if it was just the unfortunate case where he was not used to people outside his circle being honest with him, but then he remembered that she had also called him 'pretty' without any shame. She really had no filter.

He was suddenly reminded of how she had called Rikiel 'cute' and how kind she had been to him in the end. With Giorno, on the other hand, she would blame him for every single thing that she could think of whenever she remembered her current predicament. Just two days ago, he happened to be passing by her room while she was channel surfing, only to receive a glare from her for seemingly no reason. Only later did he learn that all the channels were in Italian and it was difficult for her to understand anything.

On the contrary, Rikiel was not only called cute but was even invited to receive her help. Could it be that she fancied him? No , Giorno ruled that out right away. There was no time for that.

"Hey, I was thinking of stabbing a stake through your heart in order to heal you," Jolyne said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He stared at her in horror. "Yo, earth to Giorno. I've been trying to get your attention for a while. Looks like it finally worked. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about... It doesn't matter."

"Come on, man, I know you have a basem*nt full of zombies and you have all the details of how I ended up in prison and apparently what I did too. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out that you also know that I almost died of shame the first day when I got caught mastur... er, doing things," she said, trying to get back to the point after almost saying too much. "I can relate to almost no one, so this is going to be a secret. You have my word."

"I was thinking about my brother," he finally answered.

"So Riki then," she said. "You know, whenever you talk about Donatello, you refer to him as ‘the monster’ and not your brother."

"I don't think anyone can speak of Donatello as anything but a monster. Wait, ‘Riki’?"

"Yeah, I think it fits him. ‘Rikiel’ sounds too serious, and he's like, I don't know, too cute for something so ominous."

"He's a dhampir, not to mention he is much bigger than you and older too," Giorno replied, trying to sound natural. "He has the potential to be an ally, but for now, we still can't trust him."

"I know, but..." She raised her voice as if talking to a baby. "Doesn't he give you the vibes that he's wike a biig , cuuuute baby?"

He cringed. "I gather that you find my brother attractive."

"Obviously, he's handsome. I mean, even the monster is handsome in a creepy way. Your father had to have been quite a looker with a special taste for pretty women. That explains why a guy like Donatello is only the third most handsome of his three brothers." It was an attempted joke that missed the mark rather than hitting it, but she still laughed while he forced himself to fake a smile.

‘You don’t have to be so interested in her physical preferences when you’re only attracted to her because of her blood, no?’

Her presence made him off-center and he needed to focus. He decided to address the more important underlying matter directly.

"I understand that last night was an exceptional situation, but really? Hurting yourself? I don't want you to do anything like that ever again. It's not necessary. I'm..." He didn't know how to say it without sounding presumptuous. "Very powerful. It would not have been a big problem for me. There are... There are really few things in the world that can cause me a problem or put me in a pickle. That stunt of yours was unnecessary."

"But I wanted to do it!" She threw her hands in the cramped air. "Yes, I know you’re hella powerful. You’re able to create life, raise up f*cking zombies, heal, and who knows how many other things. But the Joestars are my f*cking family. I’m one of them. I want to help—no, I need to."

She paused for a breath. When she spoke again, her tone was firm but also faintly desperate.

"Do you want me to stop seeing myself as a prisoner? Well, treat me like an ally then. I’m strong, you know that I am."

Giorno wanted to tell her that he knew. He knew that she was strong, but the idea of her being hurt drove him crazy. But even so, he knew she was right. If they were to be allies, he had to treat her as one.

"I have a consigliere who you could maybe work with. His situation is out of the ordinary, but I think you’re the right person even though he’s very peculiar."

"More peculiar than zombies, you say?"

"He’s a turtle."

"Oh," she replied, a little surprised. "Like, a real turtle, or something to do with Stands?"

"He was once human, but when he died, his soul remained in a turtle. I have a long-term project to rebuild his body since he asked to incinerate the original before I gained my ability to bring back the bodies. But so far, nothing has worked." He thought about all the times they had tried to recreate his body, once even using a perfect reference given by Moody Blues. "He is a kind person. I think once you meet Polnareff, you will like him. He no longer has his Stand and he is a reptile, but he's quite amiable."

"I don't doubt it… Wait. French? Did he have silver hair?" Jolyne would have been more tentative under other circ*mstances, but lately, nothing surprised her too much. "A friend of my dad, a very nice friend, was named Jean Pierre Polnareff. It's crazy, but it almost sounds like him."

"It isn’t crazy. I didn't know he was a friend of your father."

"Well, my dad doesn't have many friends." Anticipation filled her voice. "Wait, could it really be Uncle Pol?"

"I know no more about Jean Pierre Polnareff than my consigliere does. It should not take more than a few days for him to wake up, but if you want, I can use Gold Experience to do it now."

"Oh my God, this is crazy. This trip is certainly becoming something memorable." She dropped completely in her seat. "By the way, I need to pee."

It didn't take long for them to find a decent-looking gas station, so they stopped there. At first, Jolyne told him that she was going to go quickly and then leave. Giorno just looked at the large gender-neutral bathroom and told her that maybe he was being paranoid, but it was the perfect place for an ambush. Jolyne was going to reproach him for exaggerating too much but then thought better of it. A bathroom was the perfect place to catch someone off guard.

Jolyne remembered a time when even pissing in a public bathroom made her ashamed. Now she was not shy about the fact that there was an acquaintance on the other side of the door. The lack of privacy in prison changed a lot for her. If she was able to put up with having Gwess for a cellmate, she could honestly overcome anything.

Giorno was taking the opportunity to stretch his legs when he sensed something appalling. He noticed it even before Jolyne. When she finished urinating, she could only say a very meaningful, "Not now, damn it."

Her menses had arrived.

Her first thought was that she needed to test how "smell absorbent" the pads she carried in her bag were. The second thought was that she needed to hurry.

When she exited, she found Giorno holding his nose with an expression of torment. She tried to help him by offering a handkerchief to cover his nose again like the night before. His eyes were totally bright, his face flushed, and even his fangs seemed to protrude a little.

The door opened from outside suddenly. Someone stepped in, coming across them.

"It's not what it looks like!" Jolyne shouted.

"Well, it's lucky," said the person after observing the situation. "Because taking into account his teeth and the pad wrapper stuck to your shoe, it almost seems as if he’s some kind of vampire who’s very affected by the smell of your blood." The man turned to the mirror to reposition his earrings that were shaped like pen nibs. "It's the kind of thing that happens all the time to me, the Great Rohan Kishibe."

Chapter 18: Trouble

Chapter Text

A dhampir, a Joestar, and a mangaka stood in the bathroom.

"R-Rohan-sensei?" Jolyne was pale with shock.

Still pinching his nose, Giorno looked at her with concern. He was surprised that she was familiar with the eccentric-looking fellow, especially since this was her first time in Italy. The man didn’t look particularly dangerous, but you never know. Anyone could be a lurking enemy.

The man called Rohan raised one of his perfectly delineated eyebrows. "Are you a fan?"

"No, well... actually, I am, but that’s not it. It’s me, Jolyne!" Like the flip of a switch, she was suddenly beaming. She lifted her forearm and showed him the butterfly tattoo on her skin. "Do you remember me?"

A spark of familiarity lit in the man’s expression and his eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "Oh, it’s you, little Jojo. It's been a long time," he said quietly. "Is he a vampire?"

Giorno realized the man was referring to him when he saw his thumb point in his direction. Immediately, he was on guard.

There were all kinds of myths and stories surrounding vampires, but not many believed they ever even existed. Heck, even he hadn’t before. Why did this man seem so confident about his vampirism? Could he be a stand user? Seeing the man's skin color, he wondered if he might also be a vampire.

As Giorno hesitated, to his dismay, Jolyne quickly nodded to the question.

Before he could shoot her a look, Rohan asked, "Do you want me to help you kill him?"

"No!" she replied quickly. "It's just that he has a problem with smells and mine specifically. But he doesn't intend any harm, trust me."

"Is that the case? I see. I can fix that," Rohan said before turning to Giorno. "May I?" His politeness could have fooled anyone if he had not talked about killing Giorno just a minute ago.

Giorno thought about it for a moment. Although he didn’t know anything about the man or his abilities, for at this point he was certain he was a user, if something really did happen, Requiem could fix it. He hadn’t wanted to resort to it, but the situation was becoming very difficult to control. He didn’t want to stuff his nose again for the entirety of their trip back to Rome or show up at the palazzo like that.

Since Jolyne also seemed to trust the man, he decided it was worth taking the risk. He only had to nod for Rohan to call out “Heaven's Door” and for a small well-dressed stand in white to appear. He then found his hand opening like a book.

Giorno remained impassive even though he was holding back the urge to cry. He barely had time to see anything, but he did see his birth name in Japanese letters, one of the few things he was able to read in that language, while the rest was in Italian. He saw Rohan hastily scribble something in Italian next to the other Italian passages before the book closed again.

"Now you can uncover your nose and thank me," he said haughtily.

"Did you write away his ability to smell?" Jolyne asked in awe. "Rohan-sensei, your Stand is amazing!"

"I know, little JoJo, but knowing your family, it doesn’t surprise me that the first time I see a vampire, it happens to be someone next to you." Giorno tried to protest that he was only half a vampire, but Rohan paid him no mind. "I thought you didn’t possess a Stand, but you’re able to see mine. You guys always develop interesting ones. May I see it?"

Giorno let go of his nose and took a couple of breaths. He realized that not only could he not smell Jolyne's scent anymore, but he couldn't smell anything at all. The whole sensation was strange, but it reassured him.

"I don't know how long the effect is going to last since he's not human," said Rohan. "But I think we should take this conversation out of the bathroom."

Apparently, Rohan's rental car had dumped him. Taking into account the dangers of being left alone in a foreign country, Giorno invited him to accompany them while also trying to fish for information. Rohan Kishibe seemed to love the sound of his own voice, so getting answers out of him was as easy as just asking him directly. He had traveled to Italy to find inspiration and to buy clothes; he had not contacted a Joestar (Josuke's unfortunate memes never counted as communication) or any Stand user except for Koichi in a month.

Jolyne grunted at that name and rolled her eyes when it turned out that Giorno knew him and said he was a good person.

She knew that she was probably alone in this, but she couldn't stand Hirose Koichi. Everyone said he was 'reliable,' but to her, he was just an ass-licker who would run to snitch to her dad about anything she did.

"You painted his dog pink. I'm not saying it wasn't more aesthetically pleasing, but it wasn't good for the dog."

"I was a kid! And because of him, I was punished for the last two days of my stay in Morioh. That was horrible of him," she said, terribly offended.

"He doesn't seem very surprised to learn of the existence of vampires," Giorno said to her from the driver’s seat, wondering if perhaps that guy knew more about his condition.

"Well, I was once acquainted with Joseph Joestar and you couldn’t really meet him without hearing him tell you about how he killed off some Olmec super vampires or when he went to Egypt with his grandson to kill DIO," said Rohan. "He was a good man; he had great experiences and he liked to talk. My favorite type of person next to the beautiful ones. Speaking of which..." He turned around to face Jolyne, who was in the back seat of the car. "I'm not going to leave without drawing you first."

"It would be an honor, sensei," she said, blushing. Giorno couldn't help noticing it in the rear view mirror when he glanced up from the road. He watched her bite her lips as she mulled over something. "I know I shouldn't, but... I have to ask. Do you happen to know anything about my family?"

"You have no idea, little Jojo…"

And Rohan told her what he knew. They lived in Morioh, after all. The Joestar family had become part of his routine, because although they had tried to get rid of Josuke from the day they met him, their efforts had gone in the opposite direction and Josuke became part of their day to day since they defeated Kira. Over time and with, according to the mangaka's words, "the little maturity that entered his head, which served him more for wearing a pompadour than for thinking," the relationship between the two men took hold. He soon discovered that being close to a Joestar also meant catching on with the rest of the family.

Tomoko and Suzie Q., to much surprise, became close. The old woman, along with Holly, practically took her in as part of the family. Joseph had died and they had both loved him; there was only consolation left. Holly even went to visit Rohan from time to time as she did with Okuyasu, as if she was the mother of the whole world. And she talked often about Jolyne, her granddaughter, and how she missed her.

Jolyne thanked him, almost unable to hold back her tears.

Giorno, meanwhile, felt stupid. He could have easily gotten information about her family to reassure her.

"What I want to know is what you’re doing here. I thought you lived a quiet life in Florida," Rohan said.

Jolyne looked through the rearview mirror at Giorno this time. He finally nodded; the mangaka seemed very useful.

She summarized her time in prison and told him about the ordeal with the children of Dio, along with the effect her blood had on them.

Rohan’s eyes sparked with something. "I don't know how to help you with the other vampires, but we can test if my power holds for long on him, then do something with the effect it causes."

"Really? You’d do that?" Jolyne asked excitedly.

Giorno waited. There was no such thing as a free meal.

"On one condition," Rohan said, just as he’d predicted, but his next words took Giorno aback. "I want to read you both."

"You mean, as in, using your Stand to read everything about us?" At his nod, Jolyne seemed to hesitate for a short moment before she nodded readily. "Ok, no problem!"

Giorno, however, shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm a man with many professional secrets. But if you’d like, I could answer your questions."

"What untouchable secrets could you possibly have? It’s not like you’re a part of the mafia," Rohan said.

He was met with silence.

"You… You're part of the mafia," he said in disbelief. "A vampire in the mob. Well, I suppose if you’re willing to answer my questions, I have to accept the deal."

Giorno invited him to the palazzo instead of a hotel, hoping that his curiosity would make him accept. He did not want to have Rohan out of his sight, for at the moment, he did not quite trust him. A brief description of the gardens was enough to convince the mangaka to accept.

The conversation between Giorno and Jolyne had practically stopped; she and Rohan were currently speaking in Japanese, leaving him out. He knew almost nothing of what they were saying. He only understood Jolyne's giggles and the mangaka's unfriendly smiles. Ahead, there was a traffic jam at the entrance to the city, so a journey that normally took 10 minutes stretched to 45.

Prior to their arrival, Giorno called from the speakerphone to request a room for Rohan and to warn them that Jolyne had a Code Pink situation. It was their secret word for menstruation, which they came up with for Trish. By now, they were all pros at handling the situation. Giorno, figuring that all women had the same urges and cravings during their time, thought it wouldn’t hurt to try dealing with the situation the same as they would have for Trish.

To add insult to injury, his sense of smell began to return as they were arriving. He refused to show up in front of his men in an undignified appearance, so he just held his breath and counted down the time until he could escape.

There were three people waiting for him before the palazzo. Two of them were Abbacchio and Bucciarati, who had been made aware of the blood issue beforehand and were there to take Jolyne away.

"So, are you up for some ice cream and horrible movies?" Bruno asked her.

"Can you believe that Bruno thinks Mean Girls is an awful movie?" replied Abbacchio before looking at the third person. "I think it’d be better to introduce you once the chief hides his fangs."

"Introduce me to whom? I thought outsiders were banned from seeing me," Jolyne said resignedly.

"Oh, they’re going to introduce you to me, Signorina Kujo," said the unknown man. "My name is Guido Mista."

Chapter 19: You Should See Me In A Crown

Chapter Text

Mista had come straight back from a mission and a four-hour plane trip, yet he looked less exhausted than Giorno when they sat down together in a private room. Even though he held his posture, Mista knew him too well.

"So, that was Miss Kujo."

Giorno hummed before trying to divert his attention. "Shouldn't you give me the details of the mission?"

"It went well," Mista said with a roll of his eyes, stretching his arms above his head. “But you must already know that since Fugo has been a pain in the ass, badgering me for reports."

At Giorno’s snort, Mista’s lip curled, watching him carefully. "Speaking of Fugo, he doesn't seem to like Signorina Kujo much."

"Fugo isn’t fond of anyone. Sometimes I think he isn’t fond of us either," Giorno replied dryly, resting his back against his seat into a more relaxed posture. "But Abbacchio adores her, if you can believe it. You know how difficult it is for him to warm up to anyone."

He seemed serene, but Mista had been by Giorno's side for too many years not to notice the tension when he mentioned the woman. According to Fugo, despite her lack of respect, their boss was absurdly irrational when it came to her. Because of his weakness for her blood, he was willing to indulge her in anything.

Mista had believed that he was exaggerating. Fugo tended to be like that with any lack of protocol he observed. The girl was American, so of course she would not know anything about mafia protocol.

He had believed that until he had witnessed Giorno tense up and give her one last lingering look as she hung onto Abbacchio's back and laughed evilly despite the silver-haired man’s shouted protests (he claimed that he didn’t want his clothes to be stained by her menstrual blood).

"I’m sure you’re already aware of how reckless it was of you to take her to Nápoles. She could have found out about the..." He observed Giorno's face, which looked more expressionless than usual. His jaw dropped. "You told her!"

Giorno bristled at his accusation. "She already knows a lot about me, just as I do about her. Compared to everything else, this is hardly anything!" When he realized that he had become upset, he sighed. "You’ve only just met her, but the rest have no problem with her."

Mista raised his hand to interrupt him. "A navel piercing and three ear studs! She was born the day after the third. She’s the one before the fifth of her blood. Need I say more? It’s obvious that she’s bad luck."

"I don't know if earrings and piercings fall into the same category," Giorno told him patiently, used to his tetraphobia. "And until a few years ago, before her great-grandfather’s passing, she was the fifth if you also count her great-uncle. Mr. Joestar’s bad luck just happened to take the shape of a monster named Donatello.”

"Are you defending her because she’s attractive?" Mista asked him.

"I'm too tired for this today. Yesterday, another one of my brothers attacked us and she managed to stop him."

The subject of the Stand attack and another son of Dio was enough to change their focus of topics. He called Bruno and Fugo to inform them about the incident. He didn’t summon Abbacchio because he was sure the man would probably hear of the information from Bruno or even from Jolyne directly.

Fixing reports took up the rest of his day. His vampire senses picked up the faint, lingering smell of blood. He didn't know if it was just a trick of the mind, but it was as if her scent had permeated his clothes while they were in the car.

The faint smell carried only a fraction of the strength it did when it was fresh. The experience was a bit like smelling freshly baked bread; it smelled delicious, but it didn't drive his senses wild the way it did to have her next to him. It was nice. Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts about her, he went to the shower to remove any trace of her scent.

Shortly before sleeping, Bruno came to inform him that Jolyne was calmly resting after having gorged herself on junk food while watching movies with Abbacchio. The guest, who had been taken to a room that Giorno had chosen for him, was currently speaking with her. He had drawn her several times, along with Abbacchio; there was also a sketch of Bruno. The mangaka had given him one of Leone's drawings, so Bruno liked him at the moment.

Everyone seemed to love the mangaka except Giorno. He couldn't bear to be seen off guard by anyone; the man had happened to meet him at one of his worst moments.

The next day, he prepared to be in his most serious mode. He brushed his hair well and carefully applied concealer onto his dark circles and any trace of fatigue on his face. His suit was black broached with a black shirt open enough so that it could not be seen despite peeking through the jacket. It was styled like those of his early days, even with the jewelry. Although he had grown a lot since then and had abandoned that style, from time to time, he liked to dress this way, especially when he wanted to intimidate someone.

His office was specially made for intimidation, if his six foot height were not already impressive enough. And yet he had to wait almost twenty minutes for the artist to meet him.

The man appeared in a black suit with silver flower embroidery and a transparent white and silver lace shirt. His earrings and his bandana were also silver.

"I know what you're thinking," said Rohan. "He's come to Italy, yet he wears Spanish clothes. Yes, I know. But this Palomo Spain suit is perfect and if I'm going to meet the editors of my Italian manga, I don't want to make them feel too comfortable. As you may have deduced, I have a meeting in a couple of hours. If we could hurry... "

Giorno was almost certain that the employees of the manga publishing house would not be able to distinguish an Italian suit from a Spanish one, but what he was absolutely clear about was that the man had practically entered shouting 'you’re a half-vampire and the leader of Passione, but that matters less to me than my manga. You are less important than me.' He had been in the mafia for too many years for that to be funny.

"I thought I had introduced myself properly, but I see that..."

"Mr. Giovanna, I understand that you’re someone important, but in my lifetime, I have even met gods. What I mean to say is, I have learned to treat everyone the same." He sat elegantly. "And I’ve come to see Jolyne. I feel like an old man; the last time I saw her, she broke away from me crying, begging me to marry her when she grew up... "

Giorno’s jaw twitched slightly. Perhaps someone else might not have noticed, but Rohan did. The blonde had to remind himself that Jolyne had been a little girl and it was before Joseph Joestar’s tragedy. She had to have been less than 12 years old. The typical little girl crush.

"The Joestars are peculiar people, all of them. But even Josu... Even the worst of them is a good person, and they have suffered too much. So I want to know why I should keep silent instead of telling them directly where Jolyne is."

"I swear to you on my honor as Don of my famiglia that nobody wants to play it safer than I do. If you don't trust me, at least think of it another way. There are others who are after something, and I don't want them to have it."

"Mr. Giovanna, I have been reading people for many years, with and without my Stand, so I have learned to distinguish when someone is lying. Obviously, you do it in many cases, but saying you want Jolyne to be safe is not one of them." He settled into the seat as if the place belonged to him. "And I think I have an idea to help our Jojo." His adorable Stand appeared behind him.

When they left the office, Jolyne's essence filled Giorno's nostrils again. He prepared to contain himself. It took a few seconds for him to realize that he felt... nothing. No hunger, no lust, nothing. He only recognized the smell and that was it.

Meanwhile, Jolyne squeezed the mangaka into a hug despite his complaints that she was going to wrinkle his suit.

"Thank you," Jolyne said, holding back tears. "For everything. For telling me and for the rest."

"Come on, it wasn't much. Remember, you’re going to be my model when all of this is over. You are beautiful; my readers will adore your beauty." He turned to Giorno. "You know who to call if it fails."

"Yes, your secretary Kyoka Izumi. I will treasure the number you provided." Giorno extended his hand for a farewell handshake. "And thank you too."

"Well, you brought me to Rome, and I was able to draw gardens..." He sighed, resigned to being slightly sentimental. "And you keep Jolyne safe."

"I knew it! You do love me even if you pretend to be cold and heartless!" Jolyne had a huge grin.

"You wish," he replied with a half smile. "And now I'm leaving. You're almost worse than Josuke in clinginess."

As Giorno watched Jolyne and Rohan leave, he exhaled in relief. Not just because he was about to be free of a person this hard to deal with, but because his craving for Jolyne was gone. Seeing her there, dressed in a pretty purple dress with butterflies, he had no other thoughts than the fact that she was beautiful, and he felt a pleasant tingle to see her so happy. No obsession, just normal thoughts.

He wondered if Mr. Kishibe would sell him any of the portraits he had made of her. Not for her, of course, but for the artistic quality.

"Jolyne," Rohan said in Japanese when they neared the exit. "Don't tell the others."

She pretended to smile. "They seem like good people and I want to trust them, but I don't, not completely at least." She lowered her voice a little, but pretended to be amused as she said, "I won’t tell anyone that I now understand everything they say in Italian, though you could have given me the ability to speak it and read too. Wow, stingy."

"You’re a smart girl, so you should be able to get there on your own. You are the daughter of Mr. Kujo, after all. Someone else had to be smart in the family."

"Don't be mean to Gruncle Josuke. He loves you." She took delight in seeing his cheeks redden. "Aha! I always suspected it since I was little. Now I'm glad I was right.”

"Good luck, you little smart ass." He put a hand on her shoulder affectionately. "And when this is all over, come to Morioh."

"I will if some psychotic vampire doesn’t kill me first."

"You promised me, so don’t die, ok?" Rohan bade her goodbye with a theatrical gesture, hopping into one of Giorno's cars. The chauffeur would drop him off at his hotel.

Since she was free from her workouts for a couple of days, she decided to go for a stroll. She wandered through the gardens before exploring inside the mansion for a while, hoping to cure her boredom. Her hopes were met head-on with one Mista and Fugo.

“Cazzo,” Fugo grunted.

"Hey, I'm not happy to see you either, but I try to hide it at least," she replied. She didn’t need Rohan’s gift to understand; curses were the first things she’d learned in Italian.

"Oh, I see you've got quite the sense of humor," Mista replied, raising his brows.

"I don't know who you are, but I've been putting up with people mumbling about my smell for weeks while bathing me in anti-odor spray because of Giorno's sensitivity to my blood. I told myself it wasn’t personal, yet here you are. I can't believe no one has told you that you stink." She pinched her nose with her fingers. "Ever considered taking a shower? Getting a change of clothes? Making better life choices?"

"Listen here, girl..." Mista started, taking a step forward, fists clenched.

The wall next to them split open with a ‘ziiiip’ before a lithe figure stepped through the void.

"Jolyne, farfalla, Giorno is looking for you," said Bruno. "As for you, Guido, you just arrived, so don't go looking for a fight." He turned to Jolyne again. "Come with me."

"Ok, I'm coming, but can't I walk? Traveling through the void is weird," she replied, ignoring the other two.

"Now do you see what I'm saying?" Fugo said to Mista.

"I'll talk to you later, Panacotta," Bruno replied before turning to Jolyne. "Come now, that can’t be. Abbacchio says the experience is fantastic."

"Yeah, but he loves you, so of course he would say that. I'm just afraid of getting lost in some zipper dimension. I’ll get to the office on my own feet if that's ok."

"Chickening out, are we? Fine then, have it your way. It's in the little pink room that leads to the east door of the garden, the one with the terrace overlooking the lake. Do you know how to get there?"

"I’m not completely sure, but I think I do. I'll just have to try," Jolyne told him before heading in the opposite direction of where she needed to go, disappearing down a corner. She reappeared seconds later from another part of the corridor. "See? I’ve got my bearings."

"She’s adorable, and you two are idiots," Bruno told them after she was gone again. "I know you have a whole list of reasons as to why we should lock her in a cell, Panacotta, but that’s not going to happen. And Mista, give her a chance." He sighed, defeated. "She’s a wonderful girl who does not deserve all the bad that is happening to her. She doesn't need two scary gangsters breathing down her neck on top of everything else."

"She didn't seem very scared when she told me I smell bad," Mista replied.

Bruno tried unsuccessfully to hold back a giggle. "Oh yes, she's adorable but also brave."

"Bravery comes easy when you have the Don de Passione kneeling at your feet," Mista told him. "I saw it. Giorno practically salivated around her, turning into a complete dork."

"It's not like she’s doing any of it deliberately. Her blood is to blame, something she cannot change. If anything, anyone would say you're jealous, Guido. You and the boss tried starting something, but it failed years before she even entered the picture," Bruno said in an understanding tone. "Maybe Giorno does feel something for her, or maybe not. I’m willing to bet on it being the former, but regardless, it is not for us to decide. It’s definitely not something that she sought to provoke."

"I still don't like her," Fugo said while Mista tried to look away.

"That is no one’s problem but your own. However, treating her badly... You know that Trish calls her 'Sorellina', right? I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you what that means."

They indeed knew. It was a threat worse than Abbacchio's anger.

With the same zipper through which he had arrived, Bruno made his exit, but this time leaving the two men stewing in feelings of shame that only a mother was capable of bringing about.

Chapter 20: Woke Up This Morning

Chapter Text

The little pink room was one of the smallest rooms in the palazzo, but perhaps one of the ones with the best view. With just an armchair, a sofa, and a table with two chairs perfect for serving tea, it was one of Giorno's favorite places when he needed to get out of his office but continue working. He tried never to take work into his bedroom.

They had always told him that the biggest flaw in the room was the lack of sun due to the abundance of trees. Even if the sun rays didn't hurt him too much, he was more comfortable in the gloom, so it made the room even better.

Jolyne found the office with little trouble after a servant pointed her in the right direction. As soon as she entered, Giorno politely stood up from his chair.

"Thank you for coming. May I touch you?"

"Wow, usually people take me out to dinner first," she replied in a sarcastic tone, trying to hide the fact that she had been caught off guard. "Did Rohan do something to help you?"

"It depends. I'd like to test it out. If I may?"

When she extended her hand to him, he took it with a smile.

"Huh, it just feels like a regular hand. A very lovely hand, mind you, but my sanity isn’t trying to jump out the window." Looking into her eyes, his face tilted slightly as he left a light kiss on the back of her hand. "Grazie, Jolyne."

"You're welcome. It's good that you're feeling comfortable and in control," she said, trying to find something to change the subject. She avoided his gaze by looking at the lake instead.

"It's good, right," agreed Giorno, mentally scolding himself for having unnecessarily flirted with her. "It's good for you too."

"I guess. Always a nice thing to not have someone wanting to bleed me out," she said, visibly uncomfortable. "Just kidding, I know you’d never... But you’re right, it's much better this way."

"Right…" Noticing her discomfort, Giorno shifted his attention to the time. "I have a meeting with miei cosiglieri now."

Jolyne stood up to leave, thinking he was politely kicking her out, but he quickly stopped her.

"But I would like for you to attend; the topic of our discussion partially pertains to you after all. I also want to introduce you to someone."

Jolyne followed him into the boardroom, where they were the first to arrive. Or at least that's what she believed until Giorno started to greet someone. Her first thought was that there was someone with an invisible Stand, but Giorno went to a terrarium.

"I want to officially introduce you to one of my highest esteemed consigliere, Jean Pierre Polnareff," Giorno said formally, holding a turtle in his hand. "I think you know Miss Kujo."

"There is no need to be so formal," said the turtle. "I woke up just yesterday and I found to my surprise that my dear Jolyne is here." A little ghost could be seen floating above the head, his voice sounding a bit sad. "Do you still remember me?"

"I would never forget the funniest person I've ever met," Jolyne told him with a smile, taking him from Giorno’s hand. "You’re not the only one who’s changed so much."

"Yes, you sure have made yourself a belle femme."

Jolyne wore a cheeky grin, opening her mouth to say something, but he immediately cut in.

"Don't you dare try to tell me that I'm more handsome now in a reptile’s body than I was in my gallant human one," he said, brightening up his tone a bit. "Your father must be going crazy with how beautiful you’ve become and how little he likes people hanging around you."

Remembering what Rikiel had said, about her dad being back on his feet and angry, Jolyne could only imagine.

It didn't take long for the others to arrive. They found Polnareff awake and chatting happily with Jolyne, who had unknowingly seated herself at some point. She occupied the chair that was usually taken up by Mista, right next to Giorno.

"I thought this was a meeting for consiglieri," Fugo said dryly, pulling out his seat. "Why is she here?"

"Sorry, I'm late," said Trish, suddenly entering. She was not a consigliere either, but it was not unusual for her to show up at these meetings. "Sorellina, you’re sitting in Mista's place! Guido, come here, don't you see that that spot is taken?"

Jolyne shifted in her seat, surveying the faces around the table. She supposed a mob meeting would have been more imposing if it weren't for the fact that she already knew them all. It gave her a certain sense of familiarity.

"If you don't mind, we will hold the meeting in English so that Jolyne can understand us, as this concerns her," Giorno told them. They all nodded, though two in particular did so more reluctantly. "Well, as you know, someone leaked my movements, which led to the attack in Nápoles. I finally have information."

"That's great," said Narancia, bumping his fist with excitement. "Gimme the name and I'll take care of it in a few hours."

"I'm afraid it's not that easy. All the sources point toward Antonio Torchio." There were a couple of hisses of surprise at the table. "You all know I can't just eliminate a capo of that level without confirming his involvement first. My sources also tell me that he is going to meet someone suspicious at his daughter's birthday party."

"An infiltration mission then, just like before," said Bruno.

"An infiltration will not be necessary, as I’ve been invited. I normally do not go, as you know, but this is a great opportunity since I can take advantage of the confusion. Thoughts?”

"I can use my Stand to sneak into something on you," suggested Bruno. "While you go with Trish and do some digging..."

Fugo interjected. "Unfortunately, everyone knows you, one of the Don’s most ruthless consiglieri; unlike Mr. Polnareff, you’re not very reclusive. They’ll already have reason to be suspicious of Giorno’s unusual attendance, but there will be real cause for alarm if one of his advisors shows up as well."

There were nods of agreement around the table. Bruno leaned back, realizing he’d have to sit this one out.

Abbachio patted his shoulder from beside him. "Perhaps we can sneak in later and use Moody Blues when everyone else is gone," he suggested.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea, but Fugo played Devil’s advocate again. "The site is very well guarded, especially after a recent burglary attempt. It will be extremely difficult to sneak in, but not quite impossible." He glanced at his tablet, where he had all the reports about Torchio. “But if we can’t think of anything else, then—”

"I… I have an idea," Jolyne suddenly said, cutting him off. Heads turned in her direction; most of them looked surprised, as if having forgotten she was there.

Fugo glanced up from his tablet, looking a little impatient. "Miss Kujo, this meeting was for consiglieri only. You were only invited to sit here and listen due to the Don’s graciousness."

"But I…"

Seeing Fugo about to interrupt her again, Giorno was about to say something when he caught Mista frowning at him from the corner of his eye.

"Just let her speak, Fugo," Abbachio butted in. "As you’ve pointed out, using Moody Blues will be very risky. If she’s got a better idea, why shouldn’t we at least hear her out?”

Fugo looked for confirmation at Giorno, who nodded. He watched Jolyne curiously like everyone else.

"If I go too, I can use my Stand’s strings to feel sound vibrations, allowing me to eavesdrop on secret conversations from very, very far places. Dozens of feet… er, meters away." She caught herself, remembering that Italy used the metric system. "My understanding of Italian still has a long way to go before its fluent, but I can at least repeat everything I hear. Nobody knows me either."

There was silence. Jolyne hadn’t expected much, but the expressionless faces were a bit unnerving. She almost regretted saying anything. For some reason, she was too nervous to look at the head of the table.

Finally, it was broken by someone a few seconds later.

"That’s silly, not just anybody can…" Mista started.

"Actually, that’s a great idea," said Bruno, much to Jolyne’s joy and relief. "With her good looks, we could easily slip her in by passing her off as the Don’s lover. The fact that she’s a foreigner would give fewer reasons for suspicion. You know, since nobody respectable would marry an American troiainstead of a good Italian donna. No offense, Jolyne, but North Americans are just for fun, non-threatening to the eligible bachelorettes."

"Yes, she’s quite skillful with that ability of hers to listen from afar," supported Abbacchio. "She demonstrated it to me when we used it to play a prank on Narancia."

"I knew it!" Narancia shouted, pointing at them accusingly. "Those tarot cards didn't seem right!"

Giorno tapped his fingers against the table rhythmically, looking thoughtful but still doubtful. "I don't know. It could be dangerous."

"Come on, it's much more dangerous for me not to catch whoever is selling the information," Jolyne said in her wayward girlish voice, tugging at his suit’s right sleeve. "Besides, you know I can kick anyone's ass if they deserve it. You've seen it. And… I told you before, I'm going to go crazy if I don’t do something to help. I want to help as much as I can. Please?"

"I don't know," said Giorno, looking away so that no one could see the splotch of pink on his face. "I’ll have to think about it."

He actually had a few ideas of his own for the mission that might work, but he decided right then not to divulge them.

"The lover thing will be easily believable," Trish whispered to Bruno, holding back a giggle.

"Jolyne is much more prepared now than you were back when we took control of the organization," said Bruno, supporting his disciple. "And she’s right. Put an arm around her, walk side by side, and she’ll be just another pretty face at the party."

"I still think this isn’t a good idea. Just how is she going to repeat everything back to us?" Fugo looked at Jolyne expressionlessly before switching his speech to Italian. "Transcribing isn’t a simple task at all. It’s already difficult for most people to keep up with everything they hear and that’s if they’re listening to their native tongue, let alone a language where their understanding barely exceeds that of a kindergartener."

“Posso capirti, cretino isterico.”

There was pin drop silence as everyone stared at Jolyne. Her face mirrored Fugo’s previously serious expression.

Bruno coughed, trying to dispel some of the tension. "I’m sure it’ll be fine. There are three days remaining, so perhaps she could practice a little. If it fails and she can’t manage to give us anything useful, we could always bring Moody Blues in afterward as a backup."

At this point, even Fugo had to agree. As long as Bucciarati’s trust in her wasn’t misplaced, the whole plan was the most workable. Giorno figured that working beside her without going crazy for her blood should be easy. Even if he wasn't sure, he admitted that it was the best bet they had.

"I don't know if she’s busty enough or if her crazy colored hair can be considered inconspicuous enough to look like the lover of someone important," Mista began, earning himself an elbow in the rib from Trish. His voice turned high-pitch. "But it could work."

With the last of them agreeing, it was settled that they would go with Jolyne’s plan.

"Well, the party is in three days and Trish told me you don’t own any ball gowns," said Giorno. "You should shop for one tomorrow."

"Che figo!" Trish said, pumping her fist enthusiastically. "I’m totally up for another shopping day."

Remembering their last shopping outing together, Jolyne’s smile froze on her face.

"You’re always welcome," Giorno replied, "but this time, I’m going as well. I need to purchase a few items, and I have an appointment in Piazza Di Spagna. It’s been a while since I’ve visited Versace’s."

Trish gasped, becoming hesitant. "Versace’s? Maybe it should just be you and Sorellina then..."

"I'll go as well as a bodyguard," Mista said.

"Oh. In that case, tell me when we’re leaving," Trish said.

Trish was smarter than most people gave her credit for. She had picked up on Mista’s animosity toward Jolyne very quickly. She also suspected that Giorno didn't really need to take Jolyne anywhere personally; he just wanted to go with her. It might not be a date, but maybe it could turn into one. She and Abba had spoken, and they were sure that Giorno had feelings for Jolyne. In that case, she would make things easy for her friend.

The news about Rohan’s help was running fast in her close circle; she had learned that Giorno received assistance in keeping his mind off Jolyne's blood, though Trish would have noticed it anyway when she saw how calm he was. He could say whatever he wanted, but she had known him for ten years now and could say with confidence that his constant attention had nothing to do with hunger.

What was supposed to be a quiet afternoon for Jolyne soon overturned into a test. Phone in hand, she clicked away. The fingers that were not pressing buttons were currently unraveled into long strings that could be traced to a few rooms over. She had to show that she was capable of transcribing the conversation between Polnareff and Narancia all the way from there.

Narancia was updating Polnareff on what he had missed in one of his favorite cartoons, Adventure Time. Taking into account that Jolyne barely knew anything about the show and that there were a lot of bizarre things that happened in the series, the fact that she was able to write everything down was impressive. She couldn’t imagine what a nightmare it would be if she didn’t have Rohan’s gift to help her.

"I think I'm doing well," Jolyne said to Bruno when he came by to check on how she was doing. "Or at least I think so. I don't understand everything, but I think he talked about a magical dog and a unicorn having puppies. If I’m getting that right, I now know what series I’m starting next."

"If Narancia has not misinformed me, there are six magical half-unicorn cubs," Bruno told her, trying to stay serious with difficulty. He was observing her and couldn't help but laugh.

"Maybe I could consider watching the dubbed Italian version as my homework," suggested Jolyne. "Now they're talking about a vampire having a new house, but I don't know if he's referring to the series, or if Giorno has purchased some new property. Oh, it’s a female vampire. From the show. Or so I hope."

"Maybe we should have thought of a topic of conversation similar to what will be said at the party," said Bruno, shaking his head. "But as far as I’m concerned, you are ready. You should rest, maybe pamper yourself a little. Shopping with Giorno can be worse than going with Trish."

"You’re starting to scare me," Jolyne said half-jokingly.

"Well, my dear, fear is nature's way of preparing us."

Chapter 21: Donatella

Chapter Text

One question Jolyne had never asked herself was what to wear to Versace's. She was paying the price for that now. There had to be something worthy among the ton of clothes Trish had chosen. Her salvation came in the form of a huge albino who told her that the keys were high-heeled boots, black pants, and a shirt with a little more personality. She was urged to hurry up if she wanted him to do her makeup.

It was just supposed to be a normal shopping trip. Well, not normal, since they were going to a very expensive place. Just an outing with friends. Surely, Giorno wouldn't pay half as much attention as Trish would. He was no longer bewitched by her blood after all. He no longer had a reason to pay special attention to her.

"Sunglasses are essential, and remember to be as bitchy as you can. You’re supposed to be the lover of a very rich man," advised Abbacchio. "People are going to look at you, but don't give them reasons to want to get close."

"What do you know about being the lover of a rich man?" Jolyne asked, amused.

"Girl, Bucciarati is a rich and handsome man. I’ve had to get rid of many bitches," he finished, blending the eyeshadow. "It’s important to be beautiful, but you also have to be a bigger bitch than them... And I won’t lie to you; it helps to be a big, strong man."

Jolyne went to the entrance, feeling more relaxed. Being made up by Abbacchio gave her confidence, and picturing him as the lead in a shy girl high school comedy fighting for the girl he liked was a fun enough idea to hold onto if she got nervous.

When she reached the entrance, she found Giorno already waiting for her. He was dressed in a more informal-looking suit than she was used to seeing him in, but with its classic print around the neck, it had to be from Versace. Next to his shiny hair, the refined golden print on his suit looked pretty dull in comparison.

"Just in time. Mista is already in the car, and Trish is waiting for us at her house." Giorno offered her his arm. "You look great."

Giving him a puzzled look, Jolyne took his outstretched arm. Was he always this touchy before? It was just an arm, but having been so used to him practically always running away from her, it felt… weird. Not uncomfortable, but weird.

Until that moment, Jolyne hadn't cared much about where the others lived. She had known that Bruno, Abbacchio, and Narancia also lived in the palazzo in case there was a problem, while the others had their own residences. Giorno led her to the waiting car, a huge, high-end black SUV. Mista waited in the driver's seat, dressed formally; it looked strange to her.

They both climbed into the back, where Giorno finally released her arm.

"Before we go, I would like to give you something," he said, taking out a small bag. He handed it to her. "Open it."

She peeked in. It was a green Alexander McQueen wallet. She looked at Giorno quizzically but he pointed with his chin toward the wallet. Taking it out, she realized it was stuffed with documentation. One was a photo ID and another was a passport. Both had mugshots of her face along with the name 'Maria Jolyne Regio' inscribed on them.

"I don't understand," Jolyne said. "What is all this?"

"After the party, it should be safe enough for you to go outside of the palazzo on your own. In that case, you must have your own documentation.” Stuffing his hand in his pocket, he withdrew something and placed the object in her grip.

Jolyne stared at the sleek credit card embedded with the name "Mario Jolyne Regio" on her palm. Her mouth gaped open as she switched between looking at the card and Giorno.

"I told you that you were not a prisoner here," he said softly. "It's time I prove it to you by treating you like a real guest."

Jolyne didn't know what to say. He was practically handing her the opportunity to escape on a silver platter, yet he did it with a smile. The complete show of trust made her feel a nice warmth inside her chest.

"Thank you," she said to Giorno. Seeing that he was going to downplay it, she stopped him, speaking with earnestness. "You don't know how important this is to me. Your trust means a lot."

Giorno stared at her for a long moment before turning away with a nod. His ears appeared to be red, but she couldn't be sure.

On the way to Trish's house, Jolyne posed a question to him.

"Say, why did you pick Regio for my fake surname?"

Regio was her mom’s maiden surname. As far as she knew, she had never told him this. Of course, it was clear to her that Giorno didn't need to hear it from her in order to come across that piece of knowledge. Part of the mafia's job was to collect information, after all.

"I guess you've researched my family then," Jolyne said. Giorno didn't even try to deny it. "You know, I don't know if I still have family in Italy. I never really thought about it. Have you found anything?"

"They may be very distant relatives, but I've indeed found them." For a moment, he thought that maybe Abbacchio had been right; Giorno had overreached himself when he had given him the order to track the family down. "When all this is over, you could meet them if you want to."

Jolyne stared out the window, remembering her Italian immigrant grandparents. They had passed away so many years ago, and all she had left of their memory were the photos her mom clinged to in their home. She wondered about their history with this country, the same land she happened to have roots in.

"I think I'd like that," she answered him with a smile.

Mista was silently listening to the conversation while resisting the urge to scoff. Of course, Giorno had found a way to get Jolyne to spend more time in Italy. He looked at the blonde in the rearview mirror for a few seconds. Giorno's smile was unmistakably victorious; no doubt he was delighted. Mista found it to be stupid.

Trish was waiting for them on the sidewalk next to a luxury apartment building she lived in in the city center, looking as pristine as ever. As soon as the car stopped, she opened the door and hopped into the front passenger's seat. One look at Mista's displeased expression was enough to tell her everything she needed to know. She wasn't going to give him the slightest chance to interfere.

She twisted in her seat to look at the pair in the back. "Aww! Jolyne! You and Giorno look so cute together. Like a real couple." And then she started bothering Mista with the car radio.

Soon after, they arrived and it was time for Jolyne and Giorno to get out of the car. Unused to her new heels, Jolyne stumbled as she stepped out. Giorno held out his hand to her, but just as she was about to take it, he withdrew it. Instead, he put his arm around her shoulders and rested his hand on her hip.

Jolyne again had that weird feeling. Would she ever get used to his touchiness? Still, she was grateful for being saved from the chance of falling flat on her face.

The outside of the building was inconspicuous, with white bricks and a light gray brick plinth. The interior, however, had majestic marble floors, chandeliers, and ostentatious golden furniture that welcomed them to luxury.

"Mister Giovanna," the shop assistant said in a totally flattering tone as soon as she saw him. "It's always a pleasure to see you. The package you requested is ready for you. Would you like anything else today?"

"Grazie, Gabriela. Is Mrs. Donatella in?"

"Yes, would you like to see her?"

Giorno nodded.

"I'll ask if she's busy," said the clerk before disappearing.

"Wait, Donatella?" Jolyne whispered, eyes widening. "As in, like, Donatella Versace?"

"Nope, not 'like Donatella Versace,' but Donatella herself in the flesh," Giorno clarified with a smile. "Why do you think Abbacchio went out of his way to help you get ready?"

Jolyne suddenly felt nervous and excited, unable to contain herself. She also felt confused, as it was almost like fulfilling an unimaginable dream. As the butterflies in her stomach began to increase, she wanted to strangle Giorno for not warning her sooner.

"Giorno, what the hell... I just needed a dress."

He answered her only with a smile.

The employee soon came back and informed him that Donatella was available. She opened the elevator with the employee key as if it was routine for the blonde. Exiting the elevator, the people they met in the corridors along the way greeted Giorno upon recognizing him. They quickly reached a baroque room, where he then sat down and instructed Jolyne to do the same.

"Giorno!"

He was greeted by the most powerful blonde in the fashion industry.

"They told me that you came to pick up the order and that you were accompanied by someone I don't know. Up girl, I need to see you." She looked Jolyne up and down. "Bella."

To Giorno, she said, "I guess you came for her."

"It's always a pleasure to see you, but yes, I've come for her. She doesn't speak much Italian. She's American," he told her before switching to English. "We're going to a party tomorrow, and I was wondering what you could do for her."

"Of course, look at her. It will be easy. So, tell me, what do you want?" Just as Giorno was going to speak, she cut him off on the spot. "I was speaking to her."

"I... I don't really know. A nice dress?" Jolyne looked at her with more fear than when faced with any powerful Stand user. "This is too much. I..."

"Giorno dear, get out of here," Donatella ordered.

The mighty Don of Passione obeyed without question.

"Well, now that he's gone, tell me how you'd really like to go. Not pretty, you already are. How would you like to really go? How would you like to feel?"

Jolyne hesitated but then spoke truthfully. "Fierce. I'm... tired of being the pretty girl that needs to be protected." She thought about it a bit more. "I'm strong, I know that, but lately, I don't feel like I am. I wish I didn't just see myself as a pretty girl. I want others to know that I can kick their ass too."

Donatella nodded. "I like this better, and I think I know just the right one for you." She gave a few orders in Italian to some assistants outside. "My Gianni would have loved to see you in that dress, I'm sure. The shirt you're wearing is Gucci; it looks good on you, but you're more suited for Versace."

They let her try on the dress they brought in carefully covered. It was as if it had been made for her, a perfect fit in every way. Maybe it was not what she had been expecting, but it felt much more right than any typical dress.

"Maybe I should change my hair," said Jolyne, thinking about Mista's unkind words. "It's too weird."

"Your hair is wonderful, dolcenzza!" came Giorno's muffled voice from outside the room. "But maybe a little too much for what some people are used to. Still, there's nothing wrong with it."

Donatella nodded at Giorno's words, thinking the same thing. But knowing that perhaps many would look down on her for it, she gave her styling advice.

"Go blonde."

Her assistant appeared to help them, and Donatella said goodbye with a brief gesture as she disappeared between waiting assistants amidst several conversations at once.

Jolyne was practically in a daze as she stepped out. Giorno was waiting for her along with Trish and Mista. The assistant handed Giorno's package to Mista.

"Well? What do you think, Miss Regio?" Trish said with a wink. "Was Donatella's pick to your taste?"

"I’m starting to think I made the wrong choice," Jolyne said, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "I adore it, but maybe it's not..."

"You just admitted that you adore it. That could only mean it will be perfect," replied Giorno. His gaze flitted to the bag in her hand, curious. "Let me see it."

"Oh no, no, no. You can’t see anything until the party," Trish said firmly, as she took the bag from Jolyne. With her back to Giorno, she opened it. Her eyes sparkled as she peeked at the dress. "Che figata, it's so you! You're going to look absolutely sexy in this."

"Donatella, I mean, Mrs. Versace told me that if I do change my style, I should wear a blonde wig," said Jolyne

"You'll be fantastic with anything. God, we need shoes and accessories," Trish said excitedly.

"And jewelry," Giorno added.

"I don't think that's necessary," Jolyne told him. She already felt overwhelmed by the dress. She feared what Giorno might get her next.

"Can you even imagine a capo's lover without jewelry? Much less a Don's," Giorno said, pretending to be offended.

Trish continued her mission to prevent Mista from any interruptions. Later, as they went shopping, every time they bought something, she would insist on accompanying him in taking the purchases to the car, thus leaving the other pair alone. She was delighted to see that the last time while they were talking about earrings, Giorno and Jolyne hardly noticed that they were gone.

It was soon time for lunch; they decided on a nice place that would have been perfect if it weren't for Mista taking up the whole conversation with his trip to Russia. Finally becoming fed up after seeing Jolyne's bored expression, Trish whipped out her phone. A few minutes later, Mista's phone started ringing. He paused in the middle of his spheal to glance at the screen.

He picked up the call. "Alo Bucciarati. Yes, I know there’s a lot of noise here. I’ll go find a quieter place," he said, moving away from the table. "A problem with a report you say?"

"Yes, there is a problem. Trish tells me that you won’t stop interrupting," Bucciarati reproached him. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

"Tell him if he continues like this. I'll castrate him!" Abbacchio shouted in the background.

"Abbacchio says he's also upset with you," Bruno told him.

Abbacchio could also clearly be heard in the background saying 'I didn't say annoying, I said I'll castrate him.'

"You and Fugo are behaving like jealous children who don't want to share their brother."

Abbacchio was heard in the background again. "If you didn't treat them like you were their mother..."

"Leone, shut up! I mean, we are all adults here. Behave well and be polite."

When Mista came back after being scolded, he found that the topic of conversation had shifted to focus on Jolyne. She was in the middle of recounting how she had beaten a Stand user who had bullied her and stuffed her into a rat corpse. Giorno seemed hypnotized and Trish was also very attentive.

"In the end, I did what you always have to do in one of these situations," Jolyne said before taking a sip from her glass. "Punch her until she can’t control her Stand anymore."

"It doesn't seem very refined of you, not very feminine at all," Mista quipped, taking his seat.

"Well, nobody said it was. I’m the kind of person who hits the obstacles on the road, even if it hurts me sometimes." She smiled at him with a feline smile. "I don't know what kind of ideas you have about me, but I bet they don't even come close to reality."

As she spoke, Mista could see a string in front of his nose. His eyes traced it until it led to Jolyne's unwounded little finger. It raveled back together perfectly. "So today, thanks to Abbacchio, I’ve learned how to say 'castrate' in Italian."

Mista felt his cheeks burn with shame. Not only had she eavesdropped on his conversation, but she had just demonstrated to him that she was capable of doing her job well enough for the party.

"Mista, enough," Giorno said, seeing that he was about to say something again. The waiter came and handed him some keys. "Just in time. Here, go to the SUV. You can either take the purchases back to the palazzo, or you can tour the city. I don't care."

He turned to Jolyne. "Are you coming? There is something I would like to show you."

Having brought over the Maseratti, Narancia greeted them at the exit. Since the vehicle was delivered and the job was done, he went to eat dessert with Mista and Trish.

"So, where to?" Jolyne asked, following Giorno to the Maseratti.

"We're going to eat dessert somewhere else," he replied cryptically.

On the way out of Rome, he stopped the car, got out, and told her that he wanted to see her driving skills on the little crowded road. The idea of driving a Maseratti made her nervous, but Giorno had the attitude of someone who didn't care at all what happened to his property, which helped, so she followed his directions and drove.

Perhaps she drove with a little more fear than normal. Even though her car accident was all staged, it still scared her. It also didn't help her nerves when people sped past her without any care. More than half an hour later, they arrived at a place called Osteria dell'Osa.

It was a beautiful place full of Renaissance architecture, with a gorgeous lake sparkling in front. Although Jolyne didn't know much about architecture, she couldn't help but stare at everything with delight.

The place looked like something out of a fairy tale. You could clearly tell who were tourists and who were locals by their different reactions to all that beauty. The locals were so used to the breathtaking sight and delicious food that they took it for granted, showing complete indifference. Her mom often complained about their attitudes. Maybe someday, when the whole fiasco with Donatello was over, she could get used to the beauty of places like this.

"My mom would love this. She’s always telling me about the beautiful places she visited in her childhood," she said with a nostalgic whisper.

"Would you like a gelato?" Giorno asked suddenly.

After all she had been through only a month before, standing there dressed in couture clothes eating a gelato in a town near Rome was something that struck her as alien. It was very pleasant. Suddenly, Jolyne started laughing.

"If you think about it, this seems so nice and ordinary that it's ridiculous," she said between laughs. "We look like two normal people. Normality seems so strange to me right now..."

"Maybe you deserve a bit of normalcy once in a while. Maybe I do too. I don't usually have that." He took a spoonful to his mouth and savored it, looking at her from time to time along with the landscape. "The truth is, it's okay to do this."

They stood in silence for a few moments, soaking up the atmosphere. He suddenly spoke again. "Ah, I know! I’ve got an idea. What if we let ourselves be normal once a week?"

"What do you mean?" Jolyne asked.

"Once a week, let's just be Jolyne and Giorno. Not the Joestar heiress and the Don of Passione. At least until this is all over. We’ll have gelato, go to the movies, do normal people things." A sad smile drew on his face. "I've actually forgotten how to be normal. What is normalcy anyway? Jolyne, would you do me a favor and show me the way?"

"Okay then," Jolyne said, returning to eat her ice cream. "One date a week to be normal and boring. Just us, and for as long as we can."

Chapter 22: Bad Things

Chapter Text

"My mom didn't even make this much of a fuss on the day of my prom," complained Jolyne.

"That’s horrible of her. This isn't a prom, but a party full of gangsters," Bruno said. "Oh, you’re so adorable. I should take a picture."

"Bruno, get out of here at once and let us finish," Abbacchio said in an authoritative tone. "Hm, I don't know, Trish. I don't know if the wig..."

After covering up Jolyne's tattoo and applying the fixative, Abbacchio had dressed her before applying her makeup so as not to stain her clothes. The only thing that remained was the wig. Her hair sat loose and free, lacking the usual buns and braid.

"I need to leave in five minutes, or I'll kill you all!" Jolyne said abruptly, standing up.

She left them behind, walking energetically, or at least as much as her shoes would allow her. There was no particular destination in her mind; she just wanted room to breathe. All the preparations were starting to feel overwhelming.

She stopped short when she saw Giorno.

He had just exited his room and was heading to the pink living room. Having done all his preparations early, he was already dressed for the party and now felt bored. There was a nervous edge to his strides. Perhaps it was because this mission would be different from what he was used to, which was normally more dangerous.

It might sound counterintuitive, but relaxing in itself made him tense when Jolyne was around. He was going to be in a dangerous situation and he couldn't just enjoy the party like nothing else, or someone could get hurt. And if the injured person happened to be Jolyne, it could end very badly for the capos who attended.

As if he'd conjured them, the sound of a pair of heels could be heard as they rushed over.

Jolyne's blood might no longer drive him crazy, but she was still gorgeous. He appraised her slowly. So, that was the dress Donatella had handpicked for her. All that leather bustier, the straps, the skirt cut... It didn't look like the typical mob lover's evening dress, but it looked wonderous on her.

She stopped short when she saw him, holding his gaze. Her green eyes, framed by smokey eye shadow, looked expectant.

He could tell that she was waiting for something. He knew he should comment about her dress, it was only appropriate, yet he was speechless.

"I knew it. You don't like it," she said when he kept quiet for another minute. Her nude lips turned downward. "Too much Jolyne and too little spectacular girl, huh?"

"No, that’s not it," he said hastily, waving his hand at her accusation. "I was just wondering how someone could look like an angel while in a black leather dress." Realizing he'd been too sincere, he tried again. "Believe me, no one will question my tastes when seeing you."

"Well, thanks. I like the brocade of your suit. It looks good on you," she said, a little nervousness slipping into her tone. "I should go back and finish up before Abbacchio comes to drag me away. Or before Bruno decides to take me back in several pieces."

"Are you not quite ready?" he asked, inwardly wondering how it could be possible to make her even more beautiful.

"Yeah, they're going to match some jewelry and attach the blonde wig. Donatella told me that being blonde can... Well, you're blonde, so you get it."

"I wasn't really blonde until my Stand woke up. I was born with black hair," he replied.

"Divine powers and fabulous hair, yet all I got was string. Totally unfair," she said jokingly. "We’re both going to be blonde today. Now, if I could just get that wig first…"

"Jolyne, wait, I'd like to check something," he said, gesturing for her to follow him to his bedroom.

It felt surreal when she stepped past his door frame. It would have excited something within him only days before when his senses ran amok whenever she was near. She couldn't possibly imagine how many nights he had fantasized about dragging her in, locking the door, and doing unmentionable things to her.

He exhaled, averting his gaze to clear his head of the impure thoughts.

"You really used to have black hair? It would have really highlighted your eyes, I think. It had to suit you." She peered at him a little more analytically. "Although, maybe that look is too Joestar-ish. Your golden curls are actually iconic."

Even though she tried to be discreet, she looked in all directions eagerly. Perhaps the situation was very intimate, being in his room for the first time, but in truth, it seemed more like a living room than a bedroom. Since she had a bathroom in her bedroom, she had guessed that he must have a bathroom, a bedroom proper, and a dressing room, too. But who knew if he also had a greenhouse or some fancy extravagant thing only rich people bothered with.

"I'm sure you could sleep comfortably on the sofa you have there," she said almost without thinking.

"Well, my bed is much bigger and more comfortable," he replied, not realizing until he had said it that it sounded like an invitation.

They stood in front of the first mirror, full-length, gold-framed, and baroque-style. Jolyne wouldn't be too surprised, however, if it turned out to be an authentic baroque antique.

A wide breadth of space lay in between them. "Come closer, please," Giorno said. "I'd like to see what we look like standing together."

Jolyne moved closer to him, standing at a normal conversation distance, but Giorno took her arm and pulled her in front of him, handling her as if she were absolutely precious. Her four-inch heels propped her height up until the top of her head was eye level with him. Their eyes met through their reflection. They were both slightly flushed, but they couldn't stop staring at one another.

"Jolyne!" Abbacchio's voice boomed in the hallway. "If you don't show up obediently in five minutes on the makeup chair, I'm going to kick your ass so hard, even Giorno won't be able to fix it."

The spell broke. Jolyne mumbled an 'I have to go' before fleeing as fast as her heels allowed, which was surprisingly a lot. Giorno could only stare after her.

"You look like the most expensive, dangerous bitch I've ever seen," Trish praised her with a huge smile. "It's like your nails are ready to poke someone's eyes out."

"Normally, I prefer fists, but I suppose that’ll do for tonight," she said, smiling at her reflection. "This hair makes me want to say 'how dare you, do you know who my father is?'. I hate myself, but I look fantastic."

With the final piece added, she was ready. Her hair was now a pale blonde that reached past her shoulders, falling in soft waves. Donatella Versace would have been proud.

The girls took a couple of selfies as if they were backstage at a show, and even Abbacchio joined them. Hearing the merriment, Bruno considered his banishment to be over and joined them. Trish joked that Jolyne's bangs and light hair officially made her Bruno and Abbacchio’s daughter.

"Remember, if someone is rude to you, channel your inner Regina George," Abbacchio advised.

"Do I look like I can make you cry?"

"Darling, you’ll have to."

Narancia, who had been passing by, stopped short and whistled. "Wow Jolyne, you look like a supermodel."

"Yes, you're fine," Mista said. "You don't look like you."

Trish smacked him while he protested that it was a compliment. It didn't take long for Giorno to arrive.

"You look stunning. Now let's go."

He held out his arm to escort her to the car, which she took elegantly. They were off.

"I think they’ll be fine," said an optimistic Abbacchio, watching their retreating backs. "That is, if the boss doesn’t faint from lack of blood in his brain after ogling her too much. No one will find it hard to believe that she’s his lover."

Jolyne was so nervous during the car ride in the Lamborghini that she could hardly respond when Giorno tried to talk to her. She didn't remember who had handed her a handkerchief, but she was glad for it. Her sweaty palms had thoroughly stained it.

It was too late for regrets. She wasn’t so much afraid of the Stands or the mob as she was of the women Trish had warned her about. Giorno was the Don and he was single; many had hopes for him, so they wouldn’t take nicely to seeing her stand beside him.

Giorno spoke again, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Would you mind grabbing the package in the back seat? It might be more appropriate if you're the one to hand it to the birthday girl."

"What’s in it?" she asked, reaching toward the back.

"I haven't a clue. I don’t personally choose these sorts of gifts," said the person who had spent a whole day shopping with her. "But it's a birthday celebration. I can't necessarily arrive empty-handed."

"Do you know the girl's name and age?"

"It’s obvious that she is of legal age since the party is taking place at night. I believe her name is... Luna?"

"Stella," Jolyne corrected. "Stella Torchio, 21 years old. There’s a report on her that we were supposed to read and memorize beforehand. Fugo insisted on it."

She didn't mention that it had all been written in Italian. Her reading comprehension was still weak, and even Rohan's gift didn't help much. Fortunately, Fugo, who was likely still salty about the consiglieri meeting, had read it aloud to patronize her, not knowing that she understood every single thing he was saying.

Giorno shrugged. "There are too many bosses under me with families. I can't meet everyone."

"You can't, or you won't?"

"It's more effort than Diavolo ever put in."

She couldn’t argue with that. “Tell me you remember my name at least.”

Along with the report on the capo’s family, they had also crafted an identity for her, using her fake identification. As far as anyone was concerned, she and Jolyne Cujoh were two entirely different people.

“Of course. Miss Maria Jolyne Regio,” he said without missing a beat.

They soon came before a gated entryway. Beyond the tall gate and wired fence were dark fields illuminated by nothing but the moonlight. If they squinted, they could see a yellow glow in the distance. The Torchio manor.

As soon as they arrived before the mansion, Giorno exited the car and headed toward Jolyne's door. Although the car's level was very low, she would need help getting off because of her dress. A valet on standby stepped forward to assist her, but Giorno shot the poor boy an icy glare before helping her. He told himself that he was just fulfilling the role they had agreed upon, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed playing the possessive lover a bit too much.

Noticing her clenched fist, he leaned in. "Don't worry," he said against her neck, pretending to place a kiss there as if they were real lovers. "There is no reason for you to worry about anything. They're the ones who should be afraid."

"Thanks." She stood up on shaky legs and pretended to fix his tie. "It's weird to see you with everything buttoned up. You seem more like a Don now."

They went up the small staircase, where there were armed guards. It wasn't very common for the wealthy, but it was not so strange in mafia gatherings. Jolyne couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of the weapons. They were too similar to what the prison guards in Florida had carried. With just one look from Giorno, the guards backed up and tucked their weapons out of sight until they passed.

He was going to offer his arm to Jolyne, but at the last second, he changed his mind and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her towards him. Didn’t they want their roles to look realistic? Nothing was easier for Giorno. He only had to touch her, something he had always held himself back from doing. When Jolyne unexpectedly leaned into his chest, he feared she was going to hear the sudden racing of his heart.

The house was big enough to be considered a mansion, but it did not even measure to a quarter of the palazzo's size. The garden was traditional, with a pool and a small tennis court. The valets could be seen driving guests' cars all the way to a nearby parking lot.

The inside of the mansion was too conspicuously decorated by an interior designer, lacking any personality and speaking nothing of its owners, but it hardly mattered considering it was packed with people that night.

All eyes turned to them at the door, making Jolyne feel self conscious. Bruno was right; this was no prom. Entering was even worse.

"Signore Giovanna, I’m so glad you were able to make it to my party!" said an exuberant young woman who came running. She almost collided with him, deliberately ignoring Jolyne. "I didn't think you were going to come, but seeing you here brings such unexpected joy."

"This is for you," Jolyne said, removing herself from Giorno’s side and shoving the package against the girl's chest. "I don’t know much Italian, but congrats." She looked around with a bored expression, disgusted by the thought that it would have made her dad proud. "So this is a party... Or I guess it is."

The birthday girl was not the only one who ended up surrounding Giorno. In addition to some surprised family members, there were young ladies competing with each other, all of whom had reached an agreement to pretend that Jolyne did not exist.

She finally understood what Bruno had meant back at the consiglieri meeting. Even though she had arrived with Giorno, these wealthy Italian bachelorettes didn't take her as a threat at all. Perhaps it was better for the mission if they didn't pay her any attention, but Jolyne couldn't stand their attitudes, treating her as if she was just air.

It had to be rectified.

"Nice shoes, you can hardly tell they're fake. They look like real Louboutins," she said to one of the girls who had edged a little too close into her personal space. She heeded Abbacchio and channeled her inner Regina George. "They certainly look a lot less fake than your boobs."

The girl backed up in embarrassment while all the others looked on in horror. Jolyne shrugged. "What? If she didn't want anyone to know her breasts were fake, she should have gone to a surgeon, not a butcher."

Giorno turned his head away. The smile he had been faking ever since they entered the room twitched as he struggled to hold back his laughter. Bruno always told him that a cruel tongue was tremendously funny when it was used against someone else. It was remarkable how the girls quickly marked their distance from Jolyne. They were beginning to see that this pretty foreigner was more dangerous than they first thought.

Despite their attempts, the Don only had eyes for the mysterious American woman. He snatched her up into his arm again. No matter if the girls offered him glasses of champagne, tried to attract his attention, or practically shoved their necklines in his face, he could not stop touching her as if he was addicted to her.

Once in a while, women who approached in an insistent manner would stumble suddenly. Jolyne was being very discreet about tripping them with Stone Free while trying to pick up interesting conversations.

“Oh! Mi scusi. So sorry!”

Jolyne barely dodged the drink that nearly splashed on her dress. She glared at one brunette who had been trying to get Giorno’s attention earlier.

"That girl insulted me," said Jolyne, with her voice full of indignation. "Because I'm a foreigner, they think they can insult me all they want even though I've come with you!" She pouted, starting to fake cry without tears. "Everybody is being mean to me. They don't respect me or you!"

"I don't think anyone would be stupid enough to disrespect us, mi amore," Giorno told her affectionately, pulling her tighter against him. He placed a light kiss on top of her head. Lifting his gaze to meet the onlookers', he continued with a warning tone. "Everyone knows what I do to those who disrespected me. Insulting you is insulting me."

As soon as he said that, most of the guests started to apologize for any bad impression they might have given off, saying that everyone respected the Don and that Miss Regio certainly seemed like a lovely girl, promising that they would oust anyone from the party who might offend her. She had taken away a few annoying women with her fake tantrum, but not all of them.

Despite everything, they still had too many people around them to be able to explore freely, so they had to separate. Jolyne did not take long to act again.

"Honey, this party is so boring," Jolyne said, faking a yawn and looking up at Giorno. She batted her lashes in an exaggerated way. "We could go home to do more entertaining things. But first, I'm going to find the bathroom. Wait for me here."

The flirtation in her voice and the way she brushed against him almost made him forget it was a performance. He almost asked her not to leave, but he remembered that she had to find the place with his Stand, which is what they had come for. He watched her push her way through and nudge a girl who had been around them before and would not let her pass. Abbacchio would be proud.

Jolyne took out the cell phone that had been given to her for the occasion to hide what she was doing. She slipped in and out of hallways, bypassing servants and guests. Her Stand looked for any sound, but at the moment, there was no luck. All she heard was senseless gossip and giggles or boring business talk. There were just so many people. Sorting through the conversations one by one to glean their suspiciousness was a time-consuming tedious chore.

She was beginning to wonder if she would be stuck listening to useless chatter all night when, from the corner of her eye, she espied a man trying to discreetly retreat out of the main hall and into one of the desolate halls that led deeper into the mansion.

As she was about to follow him, someone spoke from behind her.

"Miss Regio?"

She turned around. The person who called out to her was a familiar-looking guy. She tried to hastily and secretly retract her strings.

"Why are you here alone?" he asked.

"Excuse me, you’re..."

"Roberto Castagnole at your service, miss." The brown-haired man who seemed to be in his thirties smiled pleasantly. "I'm sorry for interrupting you like this. We haven't had the pleasure of meeting, but everyone is talking about Signore Giovanna's companion."

"Nice to meet you," she said cheekily, openly texting Giorno to ask if the man was a Stand user. "Sorry, don’t mind the phone. A friend is having a crisis." Giorno soon wrote back that he was in the clear. "I just wanted to get away for a little bit from... everything."

"I understand. I'm afraid Mr. Giovanna is very popular and many see him as an attractive package," he said kindly. "It’s a pity that a lady like yourself is forced to have to be alone at the party."

"I'm fine," Jolyne smiled sincerely. "But thanks for your concern. I would like to take a walk a bit away from the party. Could you point me where?"

The guy did and insisted on accompanying her, though not to the level of being annoying. Once she lost sight of him, she continued to fulfill her task.

Although she had lost sight of the previous man, she decided to explore the hall he had entered, going deeper and deeper into the mansion. Eventually, she got to an area that was more desolate. Her strings slipped into cracks and corners, searching. She picked up some sounds once in a while but nothing that was cause for alarm.

After about ten minutes, she came across a door guarded by two armed men. Under their scrutinizing gazes, she continued on her merry way without breaking pace, unraveling her strings behind her and slipping them under the crack of the door. Heart pounding, she half expected to hear shouts and questioning behind her, but luckily, it seemed that neither of the two guards were Stand users, so they couldn’t see her strings. She retreated into an empty room another hall down. There, she took out her phone, fingers poised on the keys, and listened to the sounds vibrating against her strings.

There were a few different voices. She noted that there were some old and some relatively young, but from their deepness, they were all definitely male. The more she heard, the surer she was. She knew she had to inform Giorno. Her fingers were quick to transcribe the key details.

Jolyne waited for him to respond, but after a few minutes, he still hadn’t. Beginning to worry, she retracted her strings and made her way back to the main hall, stopping a short distance away at the outskirts to watch secretly.

There he was. It was hard to miss him when he was at the exact center point of the crowd. She finally realized why it was taking him so long to respond. There seemed to be very little room for him to even breathe when he was being barraged by guests left and right. The gaggle of girls had only seemed to double in size since she had left him, but now even businessmen were vying for his attention, unwilling to let go of the rare opportunity to kiss up the Don at such a relaxed setting.

She couldn’t help but feel something off about Giorno's serene smile. There was nothing different about his expression per say, but it was a far outcry from the warmth and kindness she had become accustomed to receiving. The countenance he had now as he naturally exchanged gibes with the guests was completely strange to her. In his expensively-tailored suit, no doubt one of the most valuable there, and with his cold expression, he seemed superior to the others at the party, not only because of his position, but his very aura that denoted power.

Jolyne felt as if she was observing him in a new light like never before.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Giorno turned his head, ignoring everyone else, and immediately pinpointed her exact location.

She signalled to him by waving and pointing at her phone. He nodded almost imperceptibly before turning back to the other guests. He seemed to say something because the men and women began dispersing, finding new things to focus on.

There was a particularly insistent woman who would not let him slip away, however. Jolyne recognized her as the one who had tried to stain the dress Donatella Versace herself had chosen for her. It's not that Jolyne wanted to be mean to that woman, but she needed to get her out of the way fast. She used a method similar to what she had done before in prison but without a coin. This time, maybe it was going to be a little nastier.

She extended her strings all the way to the kitchen in search of the trash bin and then carefully took something out before putting it in the pushy lady’s glass. Trying to seduce Giorno became a totally secondary goal for the woman next to the urge to go to the bathroom.

Giorno wasted no time in reaching her. She asked him to be silent as she whispered everything she had heard. The phrase 'we can use Pucci to eliminate Don D’Oro just like we used him against Vinager' was all that Giorno needed. If his and Diavolo's nicknames weren't a dead give away, he didn't know what was.

He left the room where they had been hidden and went to the place where the gangsters were. The guards at the door didn’t have time to shout before their guns were crushed and they were knocked out cold. Gold Experience slammed the door down, bursting it into brambles. The time to be discreet and solicitous was over.

"I would like to say that this is as big a surprise as the one I am seeing on your faces," said Giorno, entering with a golden aura surrounding him and his visible Stand. "But no matter how hard you try to keep your house clean, pests sometimes enter."

On the table were several papers. Jolyne's police file was easy to recognize. Giorno wanted to laugh; they had made it so easy... And with the photograph next to them, they had been such idiots to not have recognized her.

"I don't know what Pucci has offered you," he said, taking a seat. "But it's not enough to make up for what I'm going to do to you. Talking to dead men who would spout just about anything to try to save their lives with their dying breaths is usually useless, but I can’t help my curiosity."

"Signore Giovanna," said the first to give in to fear. "I did not want to betray you, but the American priest told us about vampires and powers beyond his own. We have to look for the good of our Passione family."

"Excuses for betrayal," Giorno replied with a frosty smile. "Should I just kill those in this room, or include your families too? It is always a difficult decision when they force me to do something like this."

"I wouldn’t act so calm and threatening," said Torchio, a tall blonde man who stood by the door. You could tell he was from Northern Italy, with his tough, inelegant features that contrasted with his expensive tailored suit. Another man entered through the broken door behind Jolyne, pointing a gun at her. "We have your lover."

"Yare yare dawa, I thought it would be less scandalous to let them bring me here from the next room than to let more screams be heard," Jolyne explained in a lazy voice seconds before using her strings to disarm the gunman. She whipped around and scratched him in the face before knocking him out. "They told me not to punch with these nails."

Giorno's smile widened even more. Had they really thought that he would have brought someone who was not capable of defending themselves?

Recognition began to draw on some of the men's faces; they had finally discovered who his companion was.

"He said not to hurt the girl," one of them whispered.

"The other option is death," another replied quickly. "Cherry bomb!"

The whole room exploded.

Chapter 23: Man Or Monster

Chapter Text

There was nothing fast enough in the world to catch Gold Experience Requiem off guard. Giorno was practically immortal. However, that only applied to him.

Jolyne was a few steps away from him.

He barely had a few seconds’ notice, but it was enough for him to launch himself on top of her and deflect all the impact except in one arm.

As they landed on the ground hard, they barely had enough time to prepare themselves for a second attack. Clutching his injured, bleeding arm, Giorno was about to turn to parry the oncoming attack when he heard repeated blows to the rhythm of 'ORA'. He felt Jolyne break away in a hurry and entangle the evident Stand user, who was one of the men who had been sitting at the table, in a string trap.

"Hey, watch it! Do you know who lent me this dress?" Jolyne steadily stood to her full height before kicking the man once, twice. "I could kill you for this."

Giorno released a breath when he noticed that she was completely unharmed; even her dress was pristine, not a thread out of place. As quickly as his heart settled back in his chest, it started to encase in ice.

He clambered to his feet and regarded the room. The explosion had overturned the seats and broken the table. It didn't seem like much, but if they hadn't escaped in time, it would have turned them into a bloody pulp. The traitors swarmed to the other side like rats, but unfortunately for them, there would be no escape. Their exit became sealed off as he made his way to the door.

Catching sight of the expression on his face, Jolyne stopped mid-kick. Without being asked, she released the man from her string trap and moved aside.

It was as if her actions had served as a trigger. He didn't think; he simply moved. With his good arm he took a piece of peppermint out of his pocket and shoved it down the subdued user’s throat. There aren’t a lot of pleasant ways to die, but having an arbutus tree materialize out of your throat is one of the worst ways to go.

Blood splattered everywhere, including on Giorno's face and clothes. The monster in him took immense pleasure in the metallic scent that assailed his nostrils. It stimulated him into wanting to see more blood, more and more.

There was no one among those he was looking at who were not enemies, so he was able to free the monster. The bloodlust he always held back was unleashed as he planned the fates of the traitors. His eyes blazed golden before the aquamarine irises drowned in red.

There were screams of horror from behind him. Slowly turning his head, Giorno saw that many of the guests had rushed over upon first hearing the explosion. They watched the blood-covered Don with terrified expressions as he dropped what remained of the enemy Stand user’s body.

He was used to this kind of reaction, having had to accustom himself to it ever since seizing power over Passione. It was all part of the Don package, but saying the feeling wasn’t bothersome sometimes would be a lie.

However, none of that mattered right now. The pale faces served to rouse a bit of sobriety in him, reminding him of how ruthless and cold-blooded his actions were. He had always tried to keep this side of him hidden at the palazzo, but now, he had unleashed himself in one of the worst times possible.

Had Jolyne seen what he had just done?

It was a foolish question; there was no reason for her not to have. He wondered if her face looked identical to the guests’ right now, mirroring their shock, horror, and fear. That terrified him more than the attack itself. Showing her his true face might scare her off. Nevertheless, it was too late for regrets.

Heart in his throat, he turned around.

She had a disgusted expression on her face. She sat in one of the few intact armchairs, with two of the traitors who had tried to escape completely tied up. The pointy end of her heel dug into one.

"Buddy, that was disgusting." Her face held no traces of fear, nor did she shy away from the intensity of his gaze. "And look, I've seen disgusting things. I grew up in Florida."

He broke eye contact, unable to hold her gaze. His red eyes met the guests’ instead.

"Committing treachery while using a party in honor of his daughter as a cover. That's what Capo Torchio has been discovered doing."

It was obvious for everyone what was going to happen, but no one dared to beg mercy for the Capo.

"I trusted you, yet this is how you and your people repaid me. A chi dai il dito si prende anche il braccio."

Almost everyone took a couple of steps back, some even fleeing down the hall. Only Stella and a few others remained. One of the guests tried to pull out a pistol, but Roberto Castagnole, the man who had spoken to Jolyne earlier, knocked him out, though not without taking a hit first. Jolyne secured the restraints on her captives and stepped on one who tried to get up.

"Jolyne, retract your strings," Giorno said, kindly ignoring the traitors' pleas. "Although, perhaps it would be best if you left the room."

He did a quick count. Along with the guard who had held Jolyne at gunpoint, five others still lived. Leaving four alive for the moment to serve as food later would be adequate. It had been a long time, too long in fact, since he had fed directly from the source.

Torchio may have been a tall man, but he was no taller than Abbacchio, so Giorno far exceeded him in height. His dhampir strength only served as an extra helpful boost. Giorno hated to drink blood directly from a person, but sometimes, he needed to, especially when he spent too much time in the sun. Lately, he had been a bit too careless in that regard.

Drinking was not normally pleasant, and consuming blood by scooping it up with his fingers first seemed strange to him. It usually tasted nice and he knew he could even speak of ecstasy if it belonged to someone like Jolyne, but when the person was dreadful, it was like eating rotten food. Hence, he preferred using his fingers, as it was much less intimate.

As a dhampir, he could not drain as much as a full-fledged vampire. In fact, the amount he needed to consume would not even kill his victim.

However, after he had his fill, he buried his fingers into Torchio's chest and ripped out his heart. He didn't look at anyone in particular when he squeezed it between his fingers.

It was then that he felt the prick of a silver splinter in his arm.

He held back any show of pain. He knew everyone was terrified; not just the people who were about to die, but also those who had stayed behind to see what was to follow. He needed to send a clear message. Destroying a heart with his bare hands was a clear one. It was the way of the Italian mafia.

Of the five traitors that remained, he chose to spare the smallest from being food for no other reason than practicality. Three would be fed to Bruno, Abbacchio, and Narancia, and whoever was left would wait in a cell before being thrown into the zombie basem*nt in Nápoles.

The last one's demise had to be spectacular for the public. Among those watching were several Stand users; he could give them something to gossip about. He calmly searched the pockets of the one who had attacked him, or rather, his torso, as that was all that remained. To no surprise of his, he found a disk. He stuffed it into his pocket, needing no further proof that Father Pucci was after him.

Seeing the splinters on the table, he thought about the last thing he had read about: Paponera ants. The pain from a single bite from one was akin to being shot by a bullet. Several could kill a person in extremely painful ways.

After throwing ants at the smallest man, knowing that they would return to being splinters after pikes, he ordered several of the spectating guests to detain those who remained while his special forces arrived. He had barely spoken before they practically pounced on the three men, so desperate to please the Don.

He did not stop to listen to the screams of the men as they died. Instead, he busied himself with wiping the blood from his hands with his handkerchief. Noticing that his tie was crooked, he repositioned it, disregarding the fact that his suit was already stained with blood, both his own and the men’s he had just slaughtered.

While they had tried so hard to attract his attention only hours before, the women now seemed to shrink as he walked by. Stella Torchio in particular was a sobbing mess. He felt her eyes bore into him as he drew closer, but he didn’t care. He continued on his way.

The only one who didn't seem to be running away was Jolyne. Her wig was disheveled, but otherwise, she seemed to have been at a disco instead of a massacre.

He expected her to show some semblance of respect or suspicion, perhaps even fear, but all that was on her pale face was weariness as her green eyes met his red ones.

"There's blood on your face," she said, searching for her handkerchief in her bag. "Let me wipe it off you. With that and those red eyes of yours, like an albino rabbit's, you’re giving off these awful vibes."

"Wait." He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "You just saw me kill living, breathing people, yet that is all you have to say?"

"Your method was a bit... ugly," she said with a sigh. "But it's not like I didn't know from the very beginning that you were part of the mafia or that you’re a dhampir. Even if I never saw you do any of it, that doesn’t mean I didn’t know in the back of my mind."

She took him by the chin before subtly letting go to start cleaning. He noticed how she avoided his gaze. "Besides, I'm the last person who should be pointing fingers at you. You’re not the only one who's killed people, Giorno. I’m guilty of that too, and not for reasons that were solely to save my own life."

His gaze burned with curiosity, compelling her to continue. "You know that I was arrested and imprisoned in Green Dolphin Street Prison on charges for a murder I didn't commit. But do you know that I became the very thing I was framed for when I took revenge on my lawyer? I killed him in cold blood. It was one of the first things I consciously did with my Stand ability after discovering I had it. Maybe you're the one who doesn't know me as well as you think."

"I'm sure you had a good reason," he said softly. "It wasn't just in cold blood."

"I was blindsided from the pain and fury of his betrayal." She shrugged. "Maybe that's why I understand the feeling and what you've been through. Maybe you don't want to harm anyone innocent, but what about those who aren't?"

"But are we innocent?"

"No, not really, but we're not like them either. We're not the bad guys; we're the ones to screw them up and keep them from getting what they want. You've been doing this for years, haven't you? I know you do it because there are others out there who could do so much worse. They haven't told me about this, but it sure isn't the first time that you started to imitate Scarface but with a Stand."

"You are not afraid?" he insisted again.

"No," she said, carefully wiping the blood that was in the corner of his mouth. She gently brushed his lips. "I'm sure that you would never hurt me. I've always known that."

After all the adrenaline and anger, her gentle caress and her words served to calm his heart. Without realizing it, the red in his eyes reverted to their normal aquamarine.

Just as the pain in his arm began to subside, it suddenly reappeared. He grit his teeth to hold back a hiss, subconsciously clutching the injured arm. Jolyne noticed.

"Your arm." Her face was laden with guilt. "You took the blow for me. If it weren't for me..."

"As I should have. They were plotting against me, not you. It wasn't your fault, so wipe away that expression. I will be fine."

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Due to my special condition and my Stand, my wounds usually automatically heal. But since it's silver, I can't heal it. I'll have to amputate my arm and grow myself a new one. I've allowed them to hurt me to such an extent and almost hurt you too. I was so... useless."

"Ok, stop right there." She looked around, noticing the stragglers. The guests pretended as if they weren't looking at them, but she still felt the prick of their subtle gazes on the back of her head.

She opened one of the nearby rooms without caring too much where it led to and slipped inside. A quick survey showed that it was some kind of office, completely empty.

She whipped around and, seeing that he had followed her in, gestured for him to sit down in one of the seats. As he complied, she gently took his injured arm into her own. "First, no cutting off your arm. Second, you're not useless. And third, please, no cutting off your arm. Let me try to remove the shard." She paused and peered at him, her mouth turning downward into a deep frown. "Damn, who speaks so casually about cutting off their own arm?"

She moved her strings and pressed down several times, but it only served to increase the bleeding. Giorno did not complain, but she suspected that it was hurting him quite a bit. Her theory was proven correct a second later when he flinched from one of her harsher presses.

"I think I should try sucking it out," she said, trying to keep her face neutral. She lost the battle, however, when she burst into a fit of giggles. "I'm sorry, but it's really absurd. Me sucking your blood rather than...you know..."

"I understand," he said, looking away while extending his arm. "If you’re going to do it, I would appreciate it if you did it quickly."

Jolyne approached his arm with new apprehension. She had eaten and drunk disgusting things in prison, heck even before then for bets and dares, but blood still gave her qualms. The fragment was within reach and she only had to suck it out, safeguarding her own mouth with her strings against any potential cuts. It was something she had to do, without turning it over.

She pressed her lips to the wound.

The first treacherous thought she had was that his blood was surprisingly sweet. She accidentally swallowed some before managing to regain focus, spitting it out. As she sucked, she felt the fragment almost rise. Just a little more and it would be out.

Giorno had heard of bonds that were created from the exchange of blood between vampires and humans, but he had never given his to anyone. Now she was sucking on his wound deliciously, and he almost did not care about the silver burn as it came out. For so long he had yearned for her blood desperately, but this sensation was surprisingly overwhelming.

He shouldn't have looked at her, that was even worse. The feeling of possessiveness engulfed his entire being. As he felt the shard come out and watched her spit it out along with most of the blood, he almost groaned out loud.

The pain of Gold Experience Requiem’s healing was not enough to distract him from the sight of her lips stained with his blood. He had a sudden desire to make a wound inside his own mouth and give her a bloody kiss. It took all his willpower to blurt out a quick 'thank you' before dashing out of the room as if his life depended on it.

The impulse to give her his blood had been almost stronger than the desire to drink hers. Worse, he thought he had glimpsed a spark in her eyes and noticed her body temperature rise. He had heard many rumors about the effect of vampire blood; it seemed that his blood might do the same to a lesser degree.

"You were too generous with your Capos’ paychecks. This house is so big, I could hardly find you," Bucciarati said, suddenly appearing. His brows knit together and he sniffed the air, catching the scent on Giorno’s clothes before seeing the stains. "Is it yours?"

"I’m completely fine now, don't worry." He thanked his luck for the consigliere's presence so he could distract himself. "Are they taking care of everything?"

"Yes. Everyone, guests included, is cleaning up the aftermath. They say you gave a good show." Bruno patted him. "And Jolyne? How did she do?"

"She did very well. In fact, I think she even exceeded my own performance," he told him, trying to focus on the mission. "She never lost her cool or broke out of character. She fulfilled her mission flawlessly and even captured those who tried to escape. I still dislike the idea of exposing her to risks, but hell, she's competent."

Bruno did not press him, even more so when seeing that he seemed flushed. He would touch upon the topic later, of course, but not now. They had work to do while the cleaning crew, led by Abbacchio, took care of tidying things up. They knew that the next day would be crazy, so they sat at the bar corner set up for the party.

"Well, you must stay until the end, but you desperately need a drink," said Bruno, pouring him something. He did not understand much about drinks, but he took the bottle. It seemed pretty expensive. "It's never pleasant to discover a betrayal, and I know you do not enjoy the task of exacting revenge."

Giorno downed his glass without saying anything. Whenever he set out to kill, he would be consumed by bloodlust fueled by the scent of human blood, but the feeling afterward was never pleasant. He was trying to control himself even within the horrors, but perhaps one day he would cross the line. Sometimes, though, he wondered if the line had already been crossed more than ten years ago and if there was even any point of return for him.

"Look who's coming this way. They told me you've done very well," said Bruno. Giorno didn’t turn around.

"Espionage is not exactly part of my dream job, but I can add it as a skill to my resume," Jolyne said with false cheerfulness. "Abba told me that you were here. I think I'm done for today."

Giorno turned to look at her. She had taken off her wig, which she now carried in her hand. Most of her hair, still loose, was disheveled and her makeup was ruined, but she still looked pretty. "Hey, I'm going to go try and sleep. But, first!" She took a bottle of vodka from the bar. "Now, perfect. Good night."

They watched her go happily as she waved goodbye to every agent of Giorno's she knew. One of them guided her to a car that would take her back to the palazzo. At least it seemed like she had escaped unscathed, both in body and mind, from all the chaos. This was becoming Giorno’s priority.

Abbacchio joined them shortly after, but he had a bottle instead of a glass. As he leaned against Bucciarati, he accidentally elbowed Giorno and knocked over his glass. Gold Experience Requiem caught it in midair.

"Now that you are both here with me, I would like to speak with you in confidence," he said after making sure no one was listening. "About Jolyne. I believe the situation is getting out of hand."

“Al cuore non si comanda,” said G.E.R. (The heart is not given orders)

"I... I may have to make some decisions regarding her and be more honest with myself," said Giorno, staring at the liquid in his glass. "And maybe act once and for all."

“Non v’è rosa senza spina, ma belle parole non pascon I gatti,” said G.E.R. again. (There are no roses without thorns, but pretty words do not feed cats)

"I like your Stand, it always leaves you embarrassed," said Abbacchio. "Hey, Requiem, help him make a clear decision. You’re the manifestation of his soul after all."

“Dai nemici mi guardo io, dagli amici mi guardi Iddio,” said the Stand before disappearing. (I will protect myself from my enemies, but may God protect me from my friends)

Abbacchio burst out laughing and Bucciarati took the bottle from him. He hadn't had that much to be so drunk.

"We need to eat," Bucciarati said. "It’s almost feeding day for the two of us and Narancia. The past few days have been intense." He and Giorno had noticed how their hunger was arriving sooner and sooner, but both preferred not to talk about it at the moment. "I mean, be honest with yourself. It’s relieving."

"I may have romantic feelings for her," Giorno said out loud for the first time.

"Congrats, you’ve finally discovered a truth that everyone already knew," Abbacchio replied. "Even Donatella Versace knew. Ah, Gucci is going to get jealous because... well, I don't know."

"I saved three traitors for you. Maybe you should take charge now," Giorno replied, seeing their condition.

"Perfect, Narancia will head over as soon as you return to the palazzo," said Bruno, carrying Abbacchio carefully. "We will continue this talk when we all have more... clarity of mind."

Giorno nodded and went to the entrance. They offered to drive him, but he preferred his own car. Nothing would happen to him with Gold Experience Requiem. His mind traveled again to the memory of Jolyne drinking his blood. He inadvertently thought of the way Bruno took care of Leone so lovingly.

Deep in his heart, he had always wanted to feel something like that for someone. Now she was in his life. At last, he dared to say that he wanted her to be a couple with him.

Chapter 24: Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Chapter Text

During the two days following the party, life in the palazzo was filled with chaos. Everyone was trying to win back the Don's favor, especially after the punishment he had inflicted on the traitors.

For Jolyne, that meant spending hours with Master Mateo, her Italian teacher, as they watched expensive cars arrive one after another. She quickly grew bored of describing everything she saw in Italian. It was even more tedious considering that, thanks to Heaven's Door, she already understood everything they said. The only problem was that she did not know how to express herself in the language.

She was tired. Not only from the party, but also from what came afterward, which was so much worse. She had had many dreams of Giorno after drinking his blood. She had seen a similar situation in True Blood that pointed it toward being normal, but of course, that was a TV series and not a documentary; it was all made up. Although, taking into account all the seemingly accurate information, perhaps the author of the books, which was the source material, had met a real vampire.

The dreams had been very vivid, and now she didn't know how she was going to look Giorno in the face without dying of shame.

She had managed to avoid him quite successfully, though it also helped that, as she suspected, he was avoiding her, too. That and the fact that he was a full-time Don running a big mafia organization and they had practically forbidden her from going to the more public parts of the palazzo.

"Hey, you," said Abbacchio, interrupting the class session. "I have a mission I’m entrusting you with. If you'll excuse us, Master Mateo."

The old master said nothing when he whisked her away. Jolyne felt a certain energy thrum in her veins, the kind brought about by having a purpose. She did not know what the mission entailed, but whatever it was, she was willing to fulfill it.

"So, Abba, what do you have for me? Another espionage mission? A kidnapping? A good old fashioned beating for some upstart?"

"Nope," Abbacchio replied enigmatically. "You’ll find out in a minute."

She followed him to the bedroom he and Bruno shared.

"As you well know, these days I’ve been quite busy with work. I need to check many alibis with Moody Blues." He handed her some brochures, which she flipped through eagerly. The contents on the pages were a little strange. "Charlie Tilbury is going to do a super exclusive sale of products and will only sell one per person. Trish already has her own entree, but I need someone to go with her to collect my things. Can I trust you?"

Jolyne blinked. "Are you asking me to go buy you makeup?"

"You’re not understanding me," he said in a serious tone. "I'm asking you to fight for some products with some of the most vicious women in Italy."

Perhaps it was not the most serious or difficult mission, but something told her that if she did not get a certain palette of eyeshadow for Abbacchio, her life would not be easy.

After a while, a gift was delivered to her. It was a token of enormous appreciation and confidence in her situation. A smartphone. She would be accompanied by several bodyguards and Trish, but Giorno wanted a direct line of communication. The gift was much better received than the small fortune of jewelry she had received a couple of days earlier.

Maybe she couldn't get in touch with anyone or go on their social media, but she could watch videos of kittens and other nonsense, as well as finally listen to music without having to search for CDs.

The situation was pleasant; she had a phone and she could dress as she wanted for that 'mission,' which consisted of accompanying a friend to snatch an article. It was disconcertingly normal... Giorno was right, she needed a bit of normalcy.

Thinking of Giorno made her blush a little. She thought about thanking him for the phone. It was not only the device itself, it was the enormous show of confidence he had in her by offering it. She had told him to respect her if he wanted her to see herself as a guest and not a prisoner, and he was doing so. Hell, he was respecting her even more than she was used to.

She dressed in surprisingly comfortable heeled boots, seemingly expensive low waist black jeans, and a much cheaper short-sleeved black crop top corset with a bow and boob window. Except for the jeans, everything looked like something she might have worn on a normal day before her life changed. She glanced at herself in the mirror after putting on makeup as she watched the latest updates on her favorite TV series. It was as if she was her old normal self after so long.

At the moment, she didn't have anyone's number, but she would ask for it when she next saw them. She looked forward to spamming Abbacchio's phone with cat memes.

Jolynd had arranged to meet Trish in an hour. As for giving her thanks to Giorno, knowing how busy he was, she knew she would have to wait. Seeing as she was ready, she headed straight to his office. There were people lined up outside the closed door. With the way that she currently looked, there was no way they would recognize her without the blonde wig.

"Miss Regio!" She was greeted by the kind-looking man she had met the day before. "I hardly recognize you with your hair change."

When they heard the name, those waiting on the line all turned. Word had spread like wildfire after the party. Now everyone seemed to want to pay their respects to her even if they weren't sure if she was actually the Don's girlfriend.

Maybe it was because of the commotion or their meeting had finally ended, but Giorno opened the door just then, releasing a man whose expression bordered between terrified and pleased.

"Mr. Castagnela, it will be your turn shortly," he said to the man before looking at Jolyne. "Come in."

No one dared to complain about her cutting the line.

She closed the door behind her and took the cell phone out of her pocket happily. Perhaps the atmosphere between them was strange since she took his blood, but she would try to pretend she didn't notice it. If Giorno could manage to do it before, then so could she.

Had he felt this same way about her? She had always been aware that he was a handsome man, but now it was as if her body was begging her to get on her knees and touch him.

"I think Abbacchio told you, but I'm going to fulfill a mission that he has sent me," she said, a little nervous about telling him that she was going to leave.

"Of course, he has complained a lot about not being able to go himself." He smiled slightly. "I already told you that you are not a prisoner. Go with Trish and some escorts. They're for your own safety, of course. You can go outside whenever you'd like."

"Cool..." she said, not quite sure what to say. "Can you give me Abba's number? I might need it if there are any shopping issues..."

"Oh, of course. In the rush, I only put my own personal number. I guess Trish can give it to you later. Can I help you with something else?"

"No thanks." She looked at the number on the save screen with a mischievous smile. "I'm going to send him so many cat memes..."

"Oh, he likes them. You know how he is; he growls and scowls but still likes them." He looked at her for a few long seconds as if thinking about whether to say something or not, until finally he almost imperceptibly let it go. "Have fun with Trish."

"Oh, you have fun... with Roberto, I guess."

"Roberto? You mean, Mr. Castagnela?"

"Yeah, him. I couldn't remember his last name. He was very nice to me at the party before and then after the incident too. He helped me be presentable again. He seems very kind."

“Kind? Do you know what he is doing here today? As Torchio's cousin, he will be taking his place in Passione as Capo,” he said a little abruptly. "You don't get to Capo by being nice, Jolyne."

"Right," she said, pretending to cough and saying between bouts "Capo Bruno Bucciarati." She headed for the door. "Well, I'm leaving before Trish starts rioting at my lateness. Have fun!"

Giorno sighed, holding back a smile as she left. He had been stressed for two days, yet it was as if she had taken the stress away in minutes. Unfortunately for him, he had many people to attend to that day.

He sent for the next. They said that Castagnella had a kind smile, but Giorno thought that it looked rather stupid.

Despite his grin, Roberto was nervous as he passed by. In contrast to how overly relaxed he had been at Jolyne's side, his whole body was noticeably stiff and his voice had risen to a high-pitched tone once he was left alone with him. It was no wonder; the man had seen Giorno rip out his cousin's heart, so he had every reason to fear him. Yet, he had still looked at Jolyne like a hungry man, even though his boss had introduced himself to everyone as her date.

Giorno tried to calm himself; he had never considered himself a jealous person. Besides, he thought with some bitterness, Jolyne was not his girlfriend. And even if she had been, she was an attractive and charismatic person, so it wasn't unusual for people to be drawn to her. Still, he didn't like that guy.

He used his most intimidating Don voice. "Signore, do you know why you are here?"

"I think so, sir. They've told me that I have been chosen as the new Capo," he said respectfully, maintaining his smile, which Giorno began to find irritating. "Was I wrong, sir?"

"Almost entirely correct," he replied before taking out a luxurious, velvet-lined ebony box. "As Capo, you're going to need something."

Giorno would be lying to himself if he denied that he had enjoyed stabbing that man with the Stand arrow. At least it erased his stupid smile. Sadly, even though it was for the best of his organization, Roberto would wake up a little while later, a Stand user.

While he waited for someone to pick the man up, he looked at his phone and noticed that he had received a message from Jolyne. She had sent him a selfie of her and Trish with a cat ear filter. After a while, Trish sent him a short clip of Jolyne singing horribly to a Tokio Hotel song that was playing on the car radio while enjoying herself immensely.

The video helped him decide not to kick Castagnela awake, which he regretted not long after. But that day, he preferred to be soft.

Meanwhile, Jolyne and Trish were having fun in the car and continued to do so upon arrival. Since they arrived early, they decided to take a walk through the mall. Jolyne told her clearly that they would only look, not start shopping.

Although Trish almost lost track of time looking at some handbags, luckily, they made it to the exclusive sale on time. Jolyne had to remind her that they were there for Abbacchio.

They were able to access the products that Abbacchio had specified and even more. Trish softened the chair legs of some women she didn't like so they could have plenty.

"So," Trish said after handing the bags to the bodyguards. "You can go out now and you even have a cell phone. I've got to give you my number! But I'm really glad; I remember when the group started to trust me and that was when I started to feel good with them. I hope we make you feel as good as I felt with them."

"The whole situation is still sh*t, you know, but... Actually, I feel much, much better than before." Jolyne smiled at her. "Among other things, thanks to you. The others may have been good to me, but you've been… Sei stata davvero come una sorella per me, Trish. Grazie.”

"Non ringraziarmi, conoscerti è stato un dono," Trish replied with her eyes bright with excitement. "And now Sorellina, what do you want to do?"

"Maybe eat something, but I have to piss first," Jolyne replied.

The two left, flanked by the bodyguards who both followed and preceded them on the march to the bathrooms.

Trish was genuinely glad to have Jolyne with them. She wanted the situation to be resolved, but she also did not want Jolyne to leave. Perhaps once Giorno confessed his love to her, it could be. But anyway, she had come to appreciate her Sorellina very much.

Trish wanted to make her as happy as she could while the whole thing with Giorno's crazy brother lasted, stealing pieces of the happiness that the murderer wanted to take away from them. She was really glad to see how strong Jolyne was, not letting herself be brought down by that hateful being.

Even now, just a couple of days after seeing how brutal the world could be, Jolyne was smiling. Trish truly admired her. And that smile was the last thing she saw before Jolyne literally disappeared into thin air in front of her.

Chapter 25: Fight Like A Girl

Chapter Text

Jolyne couldn't even scream before she felt a vice-like grip around her neck and someone clamped their hand over her mouth. She didn't understand why Trish was whipping her head back and forth like a maniac looking for her when she was right in front of her.

Just as she was going to elbow her captor in the rib, the air next to her suddenly blurred. She was able to make out a faint outline that slowly took on a translucent humanoid form. It soon became apparent that the figure belonged to a woman. Amidst the noisy, colorful background of the mall, a pair of familiar green eyes blinked back at her.

Jolyne's eyes widened as recognition dawned on her. The years may have passed, but she would always recognize her Grandma Holly.

When Holly gestured for Jolyne not to shout but to follow her, she did it without any questions asked. She felt the arm around her neck loosen, but the person's hand continued to hover over her mouth. Trish's shouts for her seemed to fade into the backdrop behind her as they moved further and further away.

Somehow, they managed to maneuver through all the shoppers and made their way to one of the underground parking lots before getting into a rental car. Once inside, the person behind her released her, but she was only free for a few seconds before her grandma was squeezing her into a tight hug.

"My little star," whispered the blonde woman with tears of joy. "I haven't seen you in so long. I can finally hug you."

Jolyne blinked back her own tears, unable to believe it. Her grandma carried a comforting scent she couldn't place from her childhood, but she felt an inexplicable fondness and nostalgia. She nuzzled her cheek against Holly's grey-streaked blonde hair.

"Hey Sis, let me say hi too!"

When she turned, she saw a black-haired pre-teen with dark, almond-shaped eyes. The girl's smile was confident yet carried underlying shyness. "Remember me? It's me, Shizuka."

Processing the fact that that teenager was Shizu cost her more than seeing her grandma, especially when she realized this little girl was the one who had held her in a chokehold.

A dam burst within Jolyne. Before she knew it, she was crying too and trying to hug them both. She laughed through tears as Holly ravaged her face with kisses she'd missed. The black-tinted windows obscured their emotional moment from the rest of the world.

After they paused for a moment to breathe, they began talking all at once over one another.

"How did you...?" began Jolyne.

"Are you all right?" said Holly at the same time.

Shizuka was also saying, "So many bodyguards, yet it didn't take me long to get there."

All three realized they had spoken at the same time and started laughing all at once at the ridiculousness of the situation. Every time one of them went to stop, another one started laughing again and the cycle began. A tear from the laughter escaped Jolyne. Holly went to wipe it, but Jolyne slapped her hand away without even thinking.

"You left me without a word," said Jolyne accusingly, hugging herself. "My dad explained to me what was going on, but you know what? You could have at least feigned a modicum of interest like he did, calling on birthdays and little else. At least, I'd know my family didn't hate me."

None of them could possibly imagine the countless nights she had cried herself to sleep or stayed awake wondering why they left her.

"Jolyne, that wasn't what..." Holly tried to explain.

"I know, I know, it was all to save me so no one would attack me. Because, of course, no one had connected me to you guys and all that. The enemies of the family... But before completely casting me aside, no one thought that, no matter what, I'm still part of the family and the enemies would end up finding me just the same." She turned and wiped away the tears that wouldn't stop flowing. "It's been too long and not once..."

Holly hugged her from behind. "Jolyne, not a single one of those days went by without me thinking of you. I wrote you letters and kept them, waiting to deliver them to you. I hope you still like Barbies because I also bought gifts for all your birthdays and holidays. Plus about 50,000 yen in New Year's money... We even had a room for you in my house. Your family loves you, Jolyne."

"I… But," Jolyne's voice cracked. "Why… why…"

She repeated the same word over and over, unable to form anything else. Holly silently rocked her for a while.

"But we're here now," Shizuka said, breaking the silence.

Holly took that as the signal to continue her explanation. "Your father ordered me not to go back to the US to help out, making me swear I wouldn't. Then we found out that you'd been kidnapped and Josuke went to assist your father in finding you. It made me angry that he didn't think about utilizing my Stand, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Shizu and I had promised not to go to the US, but we never said anything about Italy." With a joyful cry through tear-streaked eyes, she added, "Joestar women can be more capable than our men, who are huge but have empty brains."

"It was tricky," Shizuka said. "But we finally managed to rescue you from all the captors who were following you and that Stand user who was watching over you. Now we can finally return you home."

"Wait, rescue me? From Trish?" Jolyne sobered, realizing what the whole situation looked like. Wiping all her tears, she straightened. "I think we have to clarify a few things. For starters, nowadays, I wouldn't say I'm being held captive."

She was met with blank stares.

"Sis, she's got Stockholm syndrome!"

"We'll take care of your sanity when we bring you to safety. The Speedwagon Foundation has great psychologists."

"Damn it, not this again! Why is everyone so convinced I've been brainwashed?" Jolyne immediately regretted shouting at them. "Maybe I was a captive at first when they brought me here against my will, but then I realized that it was to protect me from Donatello. Or rather, to prevent that bastard from gaining more power with my blood."

At the mention of his name, Holly and Shizuka's concerned expressions shifted drastically. Jolyne suddenly recalled the conversation she had with Giorno about Joseph's death; both sisters had been present the night he had died.

"He came to attack me with several of his followers before. It was also discovered that there were spies within the Foundation's ranks. Luckily, the traitors in Giorno's own ranks have just recently been purged. Now he's working on a strategy to work with Dad to stop Donatello. Trish, the girl you saw me with, is my friend. The bodyguards were there in case someone tried to attack me. They didn't kidnap me!"

"But... Wasn't the one who dragged you here a son of Dio?" asked her puzzled grandma.

"Yes, but Giorno is the one who scared Donatello away the night he killed great-grandpa."

"Oh, the boy who Josuke spoke to me about!" Holly said. "Then I guess he has nothing to fear when your father arrives in a few days."

Jolyne's breath hitched. She had been waiting to hear a piece of news about her dad's whereabouts for so long. Now, learning that he was coming to reunite with her, she felt ecstatic beyond what words could describe.

"Dad is coming... I have to tell Giorno," she said, taking out her new phone. "Huh, there's no signal. Maybe I should look for Trish before she starts freaking out."

In another part of town, it was a bit late not to ask anyone to panic. Pieces of Giorno's phone lay scattered on the floor. It didn't take long for some of them to turn into moths that flew out the window.

It had been more than half an hour since a panic-stricken Trish had called to inform him that Jolyne was missing. She had completely vanished into thin air before her very eyes.

He tried to call Jolyne over twenty times and even attempted to activate the tracking device in her phone, but nothing seemed to work.

While Abbacchio was heading to the site to try to track her down with Mista, Fugo was ordered to try to see if there was any entry movement from Donatello. Meanwhile, Narancia was already prepared to fly over the ground. Bruno would take control of the command center.

Everyone, Mista and Fugo included, was nervous. While they didn't care about Jolyne personally, they were aware of what it meant to make Donatello even more powerful.

Giorno had ordered anything that seemed intimate to Jolyne be brought to him. Hopefully, it would be close enough for a creature to go find its owner, but he didn't have much hope. He was mobilizing all of Passione's forces for a mission that had nothing to do with Passione directly. He would have to give a lot of explanations later, but at the moment, he didn't give a sh*t. None of it mattered until Jolyne was found.

Bruno was trying to calm him down when there came a knock on the door. It was Abbacchio, phone in hand against his ear. He was supposed to have already gone out to meet Trish.

"How strange that Giorno won't pick up your call," Abbacchio said to his interlocutor, glancing at the smashed phone pieces on the ground. "But don't worry, I'll tell Trish where you are. And the two relatives with you can also come. In fact, they MUST come."

He bade goodbye then ended the call. With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders before looking at Giorno.

"Dio mio, the poor girl has tried to call you, yet you had no signal. I wonder why..." Abbacchio ignored the smashed phone pieces and continued. "Jolyne is fine. Someone in her family made a rescue attempt, but she has already clarified the situation. They'll be coming here with Trish."

It was as if a huge slab of stone had been pulled off the blonde Italian. Now it was his turn to deal with the Joestars, but anything was better than the idea of Jolyne being lost.

"Good," said Giorno, trying to sound monotonous, but Abbacchio knew him too well not to hear the relief. "Have rooms prepared for Jolyne's family. And someone bring me another phone."

Abbacchio looked around dramatically, making it clear that only he, Giorno, and Bruno were in the room. He did not need to explain anything to make it clear what he thought of such orders.

"Look, I'm going to give the order myself because I know you've been on the brink of panic, but I'll remind you that I'm not your f*cking assistant." Abbacchio went to the exit. "I'd try to calm down before they arrive if I were you. You don't want to be on bad terms with the Joestars."

Bruno waited for Giorno to give him another order, but seeing him so serious, he couldn't help trying to comfort him.

"If they have come to rescue her, they will surely collaborate when they find out what is happening with Donatello."

“Di buona volontà sta pieno l’inferno,” said Gold Experience Requiem. (Hell is full of people with good will)

"Your Stand is always so optimistic," Bruno said sarcastically to Giorno. "But you must think of it like this, the Joestars are not your enemies. They are all possible victims. Nobody cares more than they do about stopping him."

Giorno knew that what Bruno said was logical. Any Joestar's blood would be as valid as Jolyne's; she didn't have to be anything special. A collaboration with them could be even more efficient. But it bothered him a lot that he was not in charge of the whole situation. He knew he would have to collaborate with them instead of giving orders.

The best thing for Jolyne was being with her family. Her family, who lived in Japan, his homeland, very far away. Realizing his romantic feelings for her, only for her family to just come to take her away from him was his classic luck, always balanced. He had cheated to win too many times. Now that his heart was at stake... he didn't want to cheat, not when it was the heart of the woman he loved that he could break.

He had come up with many plans to make Jolyne stay with him longer, but for the first time, he felt that he should stay out of it. The decision must be hers. Giorno remembered the darker, more urban trends that Jolyne wore when dressing and thought of Bruno.

Once, looking at the completely gothic Abbacchio with a smile on his lips, the former capo said, 'He is my ray of sunshine light,' and when Giorno had grimaced, he only said, 'You will understand someday'.

From the moment a butterfly landed on Jolyne's nose, it felt like his life became more colorful and crisp. It may be more dangerous and complicated, but it was worth it.

"Abbacchio," he said after calling him on the landline of his office quickly before Abbacchio sent him to hell. "Which relatives found her?"

"You see, the people who circumvented our security were her grandmother and her pre-adolescent great-aunt," Abbacchio replied with a mocking tone. "And by the way, f*ck you, how many things are you going to want from me today?"

Giorno mumbled an apology before hanging up. He knew Abbacchio wasn't really angry, or if he was, he would soon forget it by laughing at him.

An old woman and a pre-teen girl. He could handle that; he would be the perfect grandson-in-law candidate in no time. Deciding that his suit was pristine, he tied his hair in a ponytail, just the way old ladies liked it. He put on his best smile.

Anything goes in love and in war. Giorno was willing to win against anyone in war and dazzle every little old lady with brilliance.

Chapter 26: Sincerely

Chapter Text

Jolyne had barely hung up the phone outside the parking lot when she was ambushed by a tearful Trish. After she promised her that she would never disappear like that again, Trish lamented that she had been so scared that she might start seeing gray in her pink hair.

Despite Holly's sweet, charming personality, Trish could not help watching her with suspicion and the girl who accompanied her even more so. As the three Joestars piled into the car and Jolyne spoke about how beautiful the palazzo was, she watched them like a hawk.

Trish smiled at them from time to time, but she was very clear that their escape must have caused Giorno to have a mental breakdown. Likely, they were going to find even more security forces than normal when they returned.

Mista awaited them at the property's entrance. Upon verifying the identity of the passengers, he substituted for their designated driver for the last stretch of the ride. No one was blind to the severity of the situation any longer. Jolyne felt Shizuka squeeze her hand.

On the way into the palazzo, Holly complimented Mista on his hat. She found it to be very peculiar, a nice shade. A day later, she would praise the little Stands as well. A small package of cookies that she carried in her bag made her win the favor of the Sex Pistols.

Despite being in her 60s, she was still beautiful. She looked a bit like her granddaughter; it was evident that Jolyne had inherited her sweet nature from her too. She began to speak to everyone in heavy American-accented Italian.

Giorno had intended to charm the lady, yet he was the one who became captivated by her even before introducing himself.

"Ms. Joestar, it's a real and unexpected pleasure to meet you. I have only heard good things about you," said Giorno, giving her a kiss on the hand. When he turned to the younger girl, she rejected his advance in a not so subtle way. "Am I correct to presume that this lady must be Shizuka Joestar?"

The girl clung to her sister protectively, giving him a fierce look. She might not be a Joestar by blood, but she had all the spirit and attitude of one.

"I've heard lots about you, Mr. Giovanna. I'm grateful to you for all that you did back then even though I wasn't conscious to witness everything," Holly said kindly.

"I would have liked to do more. I have always felt useless because of it," he replied, ignoring Jolyne's snort at the cursed word. "I have prepared some rooms that I hope are to your liking. Please make yourself at home in my humble abode."

They had prepared rooms for the two newcomers in another wing of the palazzo, away from where the rest were, including Jolyne's. He might not have reason to distrust them, but he still preferred to keep them apart at night. He only had to cross the hall to get to Jolyne, and in the same way, they couldn't get there without going past his bedroom first.

"How very kind of you," Holly said with a bright smile. "Shizu, could you accompany Jolyne for a while? There's something I have to discuss with Mr. Giovanna."

"We're in this together," said the girl, protesting.

"Shizu..." Holly warned her.

"Hey Shizu, do you want to go see some cute zombies?" Jolyne said. "Also, I need to hand off an eyeshadow palette to one of them before he chews me out—literally."

Jolyne practically dragged Shizuka away. Her protective instinct for her older sister was strong, but the zombie thing had also piqued her curiosity.

Giorno decided to move their conversation to the pink room. The old woman may not have been impressed by the luxury she had been exposed to so far, but she would have to be awed by the splendid views. The pink room was cozy too; perfect for a friendly chat or whatever the lady was preparing. On the way, he ordered some tea to be served for them.

"Mr. Giovanna," she began.

"Please call me Giorno. Only the people I deal with in business call me Mr. Giovanna."

"Okay, Giorno it is. And you may call me Holly." She sat solemnly, but at the same time, despite the formality of all her posture, she seemed comfortable. "I'll be upfront with you. My son and my brother still have no idea of my whereabouts. I wanted to come before they did. They'll only complicate everything once they do."

"I appreciate the gesture. I have met your son once before."

"Then you'll understand why I wanted to come first, but it won't be long now. Even though he hasn't said anything to me, I can tell Jotaro already suspects Italy. I found Jolyne myself using my Stand. I sensed her with Rohan... That wonderful man didn't mention anything about her to me, but I'm not an idiot. I didn't ask him about her, just about his whereabouts."

Holly tittered again. Giorno realized that she was a woman used to people thinking she was an idiot and often took advantage of it. He was not going to underestimate her. Each and every time he had underestimated her granddaughter, she had shown him how wrong he was.

"I don't believe that you have a single stupid hair on your body, Miss Holly," Giorno replied with a smile. "So, you want to see how the situation is before the others arrive."

"That won't be long now. My son is finishing up some business in America, and as for my brother... Well, Rohan is stubborn, but Josuke is an expert on him."

There was a knock on the door from a servant. Holly thanked him for the tea and waited to be served.

"I may have not been in my granddaughter's life for so many years, but I don't want her to think that I don't know anything about her. I've been watching and worrying every day since that girl was born."

"I understand that and I'm happy for her. Having a family that loves you sounds good."

"You poor child, sometimes I forget what Dio's children have suffered." She gave him a pained look. Although Giorno usually hated when people felt sorry for him, he didn't mind this once. "What I mean is, I really love my granddaughter. When this whole situation started, I took it upon myself to watch her with my Stand. I know it doesn't seem like much and it's much more cryptic and weaker than my father's, but I'm able to see other things, like emotions." She had lost part of her kind countenance in turn for a look of worry. "Imagine my horror when I sensed these outside sick feelings around her."

Giorno looked at her without fully understanding what she meant. After tasting the tea, she continued speaking.

"The obsession of that poor, unstable American boy really seemed like love, but I wasn't content when I noticed those emotions. Luckily, his feelings didn't seem reciprocated. Then another boy came, one that scared me."

"Donatello," he replied, almost spitting out the name.

"I've sensed emotions before that don’t even seem human, but his... I was really scared. I'm still scared. I don't even want to think about what would happen if that monster found her." Holly suppressed a shudder. "It would be terrible if he used the blood of any one of us, but Jolyne..."

"I understand," he replied, embarrassed. "If it weren't for Mr. Kishibe, I would feel the same."

"Not at all," she replied with a little blush. "I could also feel those. What you felt was naked sexual desire, a little strong, but nothing more than that," she said, downplaying the feelings that had obsessed Giorno.

Her eyes suddenly darkened. "What Donatello wants is to possess her, but not only in a sexual sense... He wants to break her and handle her to his liking. He wants her whole being to be terrified and unable to run away. He wants to hurt her when he wants to and treat her like a doll when he wills. Believe me, your emotions are not nearly alike."

"Fottuto mostro del cazzo," Giorno hissed through clenched teeth. "And... may I ask about Rikiel?"

"Dio's other son? I couldn't sense much, but it was more like what you were feeling before than anything Donatello has ever felt. He seemed very confused."

There were words left unspoken, but they both knew what they were. If Holly was able to sense feelings with her Stand, she had to know how Giorno felt about Jolyne. He had thought that would have made him nervous, but instead, he felt relieved. He would not have to hide his love.

"If you are able to read all those emotions, you must already know that I will not let him get to Jolyne. I can't. It's not just a matter of unwillingness. I can't allow it just like I can't let him empty my lungs." Maybe he was being dramatic, but it was not so exaggerated. "Well, even if my feelings were different, I would still not want Donatello to win. Every day I remind myself of how useless I was when he got Joseph Joestar."

"Honey, don't blame yourself for what other people do, even if it's your brother," Holly said kindly. "You may have a mighty Stand, but you're no god, boy."

"You don't understand." Logic told him that it was not what he should say to someone who he wanted to put on his side, but one of the weights he had had in his heart for years was drowning him. "Back then, when I realized he had gone after the Joestars, I chose to give chase directly instead of contacting the Speedwagon Foundation directly to warn them... Not only that, something inside me felt that Pucci was not to be trusted, yet I preferred to call him instead of the Foundation over my body's problem."

Holly looked at him almost with tears in her eyes, but she didn't seem angry. She just looked sad.

"Maybe if you had, my father would still be alive. Or maybe that boy would have attacked and succeeded at another time. I wish you could have been with us." Then Holly said something to Giorno that no adult had said before. "I wish I had known you existed so that I could have helped you. The children of Dio are no less victims to him than I was."

"But if I had called, I could have..." Giorno began almost desperately. "I was useless."

"You made a wrong call, but you didn't kill him," she replied, letting a tear fall down her cheek. Giorno knew she was crying for Joseph Joestar, but in part, he felt that she was crying for him too. "We all made wrong decisions, but when Donatello killed my father, he did it of his own volition. You didn't kill anyone, just saved one less person. With me and Josuke there, do you really think he would have settled only for my father? And then there is also my granddaughter..."

Giorno shook his head. "No, I could have alerted the Foundation, but I didn't want to. Actually, my pride was stronger. I hated the thought of proving Dr. Kujo correct, that we sons of Dio are every bit capable of committing great evils like our father. My arrogance convinced me that I could put a stop to Donatello before anyone found out. It was selfish of me... I failed to even think of my other younger brothers. My Stand and my position have made me careless, Ms. Joestar. I have no excuse for..."

Finally, Holly gave him a hug. How long must it have taken for that boy, no, that man, to reveal all this? She had had enough experience with tough men broken inside to recognize one. Knowing that he felt guilty made her feel calmer. It said a lot about him, even if it wasn't right for him to feel those things.

After saying goodbye to Giorno to freshen up in her rooms, she found herself with a new problem. A problem called Shizuka. Holly adored her little sister, and considering that she had raised Jotaro, she had the patience to spare, but many times, the girl's requests were based on irrational fear.

"I'll sleep with Jolyne," insisted the preteen, holding her ground. "She isn't safe here. Let me help her."

"No offense, Shizu, but I'm a ton stronger than you," Jolyne replied. "I mean, your Stand is really cool, but mine kicks ass. Not to mention that I'm a grown-ass woman too."

The three spent the rest of the day together, even having dinner in private in one of the palazzo lounges. There was a lot of curiosity surrounding them, but Jolyne was adamant that they just speak to her if they wanted to ask anything.

She was glad to see the two, sure, but the situation was still a bit weird. She had completely missed out on six years of their lives, only to now have sleepovers as if nothing had happened.

Even though it was almost midnight and she was tired, she had too much nervous energy to sleep. Just when she considered taking a walk in the garden, she remembered that there were sensors everywhere. It would give Giorno a scare if she went out.

She had been avoiding Giorno since she accidentally drank some of his blood. Erotic thoughts had filled her head from the blood and she couldn't see him without blushing like a teenager. Knowing that perhaps Giorno had gone through the same thing with her before Rohan's help made her even more nervous.

After realizing that she wasn't going to be able to sleep, she steeled herself. She was just going to tell him that she was going out, to do what he wanted with the sensors.

She left the room determined, but in the hallway, she realized that she was wearing the black pajamas that Abbacchio had bought for her. She adored them, but perhaps a wide T-shirt and orange bats on shorts were not the best for appearing in front of Mr. 'I do not think that Prada is a luxury brand'.

Maybe Giorno was sleeping. Waking him for such a small thing was silly, especially when he needed so much more rest.

She was about to turn around and go back when Giorno threw open the door. He was in his pajamas, but it wasn't hard to recognize a custom Versace robe.

"I heard someone wandering down the hall," Giorno explained. "Do you need something?"

"I... I can't sleep. I was wondering if you could deactivate the sensors in the garden? Maybe the fresh air would do me good." She started to feel terribly stupid. "If it's not too much of a bother."

"I think it's a great idea," Giorno replied. "Would you mind having company?"

Chapter 27: Reflection

Chapter Text

Jolyne had panicked and agreed to walk with him even though Giorno was one of the very things she wanted to run away from. She told him she was going to get a robe; there was no time to make the bat pajamas disappear, but she covered it with the green Gucci robe that Trish had insisted she would need. She was nervous, although Giorno was only walking beside her. He was dressed in Versace and she in Gucci; looking down, she saw that in her haste, she had slipped on the kitten slippers that Narancia had given her.

"They’re very cute," Giorno said. "He gave me similar ones."

Jolyne tried to imagine him with them on. Giorno was a very big man, so Narancia must have had to request a pair made especially for him. A laugh escaped her.

Giorno stared at her; he loved hearing her laugh. When Jolyne caught him staring, she stopped sheepishly.

"Your eyes are shining," said Giorno. Jolyne answered with a series of sounds choked by nerves. "I mean, there’s glitter on your skin. Remnants of your makeup."

"Oh f*ck, I can't even remove my makeup properly." Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me today."

"Getting kidnapped and reuniting with your grandmother are difficult experiences." Giorno put a hand on her shoulder and brought her closer to him. "It's normal to feel anything other than ok."

"It's not just that." She leaned against him. Despite the shame she had felt before, she found his presence comforting, and not just because of the effect of his blood. "Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about ‘the after’ that'll come if we defeat Donatello."

"When we defeat Donatello, not if," replied Giorno, incidentally putting his arm around her shoulders. "But go on. When we defeat our enemies..."

"Ok, when we kick his ass, I was thinking, what then? I'd still be an escaped convict in the US, losing any opportunity to study. Well, I didn't know what to study anyway. My grandma told me that I could go to Japan with her, but what would I do there?" She took the hand that Giorno had put on her shoulder, only to link her fingers with his. "Not like you. You already knew what you wanted to do by the time you were fifteen."

"I don't recommend making the decisions I did." Giorno stopped for a moment, seeming to think about something. In truth, he was restraining himself from kissing her on the forehead. "Of course, you have exhibited talents that would make you a fine member of Passione, but putting all that aside, you can stay in Italy as long as you'd like. If you're keen on fashion, Donatella could get you something. Oh, and Trish needs an assistant to help her organize her career; you're good at helping her focus. Jolyne, you have a whole life ahead of you, and glitter on your face. I'm sorry, but now that I look at you, you have some on your nose too."

Jolyne released him to rub her nose. This time, it was Giorno's turn to laugh. Seeing him laugh so comfortably was a privilege very few had. Jolyne couldn't help but blush.

"Abbacchio taught me how to remove the glitter, though I don't think he uses much himself. I’ve done it wrong."

"Well, once, I saw him with black eye makeup and gold glitter. From the look of Bruno's face, I would say that it fit him very well."

"Yeah, Abbacchio’s very handsome and those things suit him nicely. They’d probably suit you too."

"Not as handsomely as Rikiel, of course," he said in a sour tone. He regretted it as soon as he said it.

"Hey, I never said that! I said you're both prettier than Donatello, but you look a lot alike." Jolyne crossed her arms. "Wait, are you jealous? Because if that's the case, I'll have no choice but to believe that you can't see your own reflection in the mirror."

"The thing about vampires and reflections only happens with those old mirrors, the ones made of silver nitrate," he explained, embarrassed. "And I only look blurry. I think a full-fledged vampire would not be seen at all."

Giorno didn't know how he managed it, but finally, the issue of the old mirrors made Jolyne curious. He had an antique mirror in one of his rooms, and incidentally, he also had a strong makeup remover that could handle glitter. Not that he usually put on much makeup, but sometimes, his obligations as Don did not allow him to rest; he always had to look impeccable. Concealer and foundation were his frequent friends.

As they walked back, Giorno began to think that perhaps it was not the best idea to lock himself with Jolyne in his room in the middle of the night. Although the urge for blood no longer existed on his part, he still wanted her, maybe even more so because he knew blood thirst no longer had anything to do with it. However, he couldn't become sexually involved with her until he was sure that the little blood she had drunk from him had nothing to do with it.

The comfortable silence was broken when Jolyne asked him how old the palazzo was. When he told her that it was from the seventeenth century, she began to say that there were probably ghosts before making ghostly noises. Jolyne's childish jokes would normally help her turn any guy off, but Giorno was in love with her, including her sense of humor, so it didn't work for him.

In fact, when he asked her to stop, she started saying that if he was scared, he should call the Ghostbusters while humming the song. When they got to Giorno's room, they were both humming the song between giggles.

"I'll bring you the makeup remover," Giorno said as they entered. "You can wait here in the living room. Sit wherever you want."

"Actually..." Jolyne started and then blushed. "No, forget it. It's silly."

"Cara mia, we have been singing a song from an 80s movie. If it seems silly, you have all my curiosity," Giorno said with a smile.

"You sounded like Gomez Addams."

Giorno frowned.

"No offense, Gomez Addams is cool. I just realized that Abba and Bruno are like the gay Italian version of Gomez and Morticia."

"I'm not offended. I was just surprised you mentioned Gomez precisely because the boys always compare him to Bucciarati. By the way, our Wednesday is Fugo." They both giggled. "But I didn't forget, what were you going to say?"

"I hate that you're not easy to mislead," Jolyne sighed. "I was going to tell you that I secretly wanted to accompany you and browse in your room. I know it may be wrong, but your clothes are so... extra. I'm curious about how the rest look."

Giorno stared at her for a few seconds before bowing cavalierly. He indicated with a movement of his hands for her to follow him.

Jolyne loved Giorno's bathroom, especially the gold clawfoot tub, which had a hydro massage. Neither of them said anything, but it was becoming very apparent that if she wanted to use the bathtub, she could. And that if she wanted company, he would be more than willing to join.

Giorno offered her the make-up remover. "Here, take this. Everything in the closet is at your disposal. I'll wait for you in the living room."

He knew that if he stuck around, he would end up offering to help her with the makeup remover, and he knew by now that that could lead to him kissing her until they were both senseless. Since she still had a little of his blood in her body, it wouldn't really be fair.

But hadn't days passed already? Yet, she had barely looked flushed or uncomfortable a little while ago. Blood affected weak people especially; she was strong, so there was no way it could have influenced her too much. Jolyne had told him countless times that she found him attractive and she didn't seem uncomfortable at his advances. Maybe offering his help wouldn't be a bad thing, and if they ended up kissing... Well, that was exactly what he hoped for. Before he could turn the handle on the door, Jolyne stepped out, with her makeup completely removed.

Giorno turned around, trying to hide his disappointment. "The mirror is in my dressing room. Follow me."

The dressing room was very large, filled with expensive-looking clothes. Even the hangers looked expensive; they were made of wood so as not to spoil the fabric. There were a couple of mannequins in suits. Crowning the room was a huge mirror with a gold baroque frame. It didn't take Jolyne long to realize that while she was reflected perfectly, Giorno was not.

"Damn, it's true that you look blurry." She moved quickly, imitating one of those inflatable dolls that danced in ads to check if it was a trick of the mirror. "My reflection looks normal. It’s only you."

"I have never met a full-fledged vampire, but it seems that the reflection myth holds truth." Giorno looked at his distorted reflection with distaste.

Jolyne shifted her gaze away from the reflection to look directly at his face. Giorno might not be overly expressive, but she had learned to read him. His dislike was evident.

"It's a great mirror, but if you don't like it, you could change it and just leave the frame," she suggested. "Why keep it?"

"It reminds me of what I really am," he said calmly. "A monster that wears elegant suits. I should never forget that."

Jolyne started laughing. "Well, isn't this just so great? I'm done. I'm going to tell you something that someone must have already told you a long time ago: you need therapy," she said, sticking her finger in his chest. "I don't mean it as an insult. You're not a f*cking monster. Ok, your dad was a vampire, but I come from a bloodline destined to be his food, yet you don't call me lunch.” She took a breath, frustrated. "Want to know what I think? In all your perfect golden monster aura, you're just a normal person who is afraid of not becoming worthy of the image he has created. You're afraid that that image will crack and expose what's underneath."

"I'm not hiding or concealing anything," he replied, raising his voice unintentionally. When he realized it, he tried to return to his calm tone but was unsuccessful. "I'm a monster that drinks blood, Jolyne. I'm built to feed on humanity."

"f*ck you, if what I've been told is true, vampires were created by a crazy guy my great-grandfather killed to be food." Jolyne crossed her arms and forced herself to try to calm down. "I've been in jail. Believe me, I've met real monsters. You're just someone... different. I'm sure we could find a cure if we try."

"See that?" Giorno said, pointing to his blurred reflection. "That is what I am."

Jolyne looked at the mirror and held herself back from throwing something and smashing it into a thousand pieces. With a cry of frustration, she left the dressing room, kicking aside some expensive shoes that were in her way. Giorno came out after her and almost slammed into her, as she had stopped and whirled around to face him again.

"A week ago, when I felt like everything was too weird, you told me that we should go out once a week so that we could both remember what's normal. You told me that you were forgetting what normalcy is like.” She was so angry that her Stand appeared behind her without her realizing it. "Tomorrow, you and I have plans together. We're going sightseeing like tourists and all that sh*t, no excuses."

She bounded to the exit, her Stand following behind.

"Because, damn, I like the Giorno who isn't obsessed with calling himself a monster and acting like he shoulders all the responsibility in the world, but I guess that makes me a dumbass."

She slammed the door behind her.

Jolyne crossed the hallway, taking firm and obviously angry steps. She was careful not to slam her own bedroom door; enough noise had already been made. She threw herself on her bed.

In her anger, the fright of finding someone else already there and having her Stand out made her think before acting. She quickly tied up the intruder. They had chosen the worst of days to try to kidnap her.

Chapter 28: I Don't Want To Miss A Thing

Chapter Text

Screams of the alleged attacker soon filled the room. Hearing all the commotion, Giorno barged in seconds later, only to find a terrified Shizuka in Jolyne's bed. Realizing she had hurt Shizuka's arm, Jolyne took advantage of his presence.

"I miss Josuke," said the girl as she was subjected to Gold Experience Requiem's healing, a much more painful experience than with Crazy Diamond. "But thanks, I guess."

"Sorry for scaring you," she said to Jolyne. "Your boyfriend is handsome, but not as much as my brother's boyfriend."

Some words ran over Giorno and Jolyne at the same time. "He's not my boyfriend", "Grazie," and "Wait, those two are official?".

"Don't talk at the same time!" Shizuka shouted at them, vanishing briefly. "I thought the two of you were— It seems like..." Catching Jolyne's threatening gaze, she dropped the topic. "Yes, he's officially been dating Rohan for a few months, but only our family and friends know. The press and fans can be overwhelming."

Jolyne pressed a hand to her heart. It was finally starting to settle down after the small scare. At least she confirmed her reflexes were on point; her training had also helped to really improve her reaction speed. She watched Shizuka poke at her newly healed skin gingerly.

"Sorry," Jolyne began. There was so much more she wanted to say to her little cousin, pouring off her chest. Then she remembered the extra person in the room. "Good evening, Giorno! Thanks for healing Shizuka."

She, along with Shizuka, waved a dramatic goodbye at him so that he would take it as an invitation to leave. He wasn't an idiot, so he bade farewell and headed off to his room.

"Why are you here?" Jolyne asked the little girl. "Don't you like the room they gave you?"

"The room's cute and comfy, but..." Shizuka hesitated. "We're still in a vampire's mansion. He's a handsome vampire, I'll give you that, but he went out with you tonight. Although, I guess I do feel a little relieved after having heard you shout at him in that big room."

She ignored Jolyne's look at that. "If you were afraid of him, you wouldn't have had the courage. Mom did that a lot with dad actually, yelling at him. I miss him, even if I’m not a real Joestar."

"What?" Jolyne's mouth gaped open. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Forget it." She was suddenly fascinated with her hands.

"Shizu…"

"I said forget it."

Just when Jolyne was about to pursue it, the other girl vanished. She was stunned for only a second before she quickly unwound her finger and shot her strings in the exit's direction. With some skilled meneuvering, the door slammed shut.

She wondered if the walls were sound proof. What a pain it would be if Giorno came back after hearing Shizuka's renewed shouts and after they'd so courteously kicked him out too.

With the help of her strings' vibration, she managed to locate the girl in no time at all. She hauled Shizuka onto the bed before getting in herself and covering them both with the blanket. She wrapped the invisible girl into a hug. "Don't talk like that. I don't know where this is all coming from, but it's a fact that you're one of Joseph Joestar's daughters. That means you're as much of a Joestar as I am, airhead. You can miss him all you want."

Shizuka's body became visible again. Her head was buried in Jolyne's chest, so she couldn't see the girl's expression, but she felt her thin arms squeeze back. For the moment, it was enough.

There was a short silence before Jolyne suddenly separated from her. "Wait a minute. I think I finally know why hide-and-seek with you was always impossible."

"It was very hard not to tell you anything about Stands. But at least keeping it a secret had some advantages!" she said, trying to justify herself. Even with just moonlight coming through the window, she could see from Jolyne's face that it didn't convince her. Hence, she changed the subject. "Did you want to know about Rohan and my brother?"

"f*ck yeah," Jolyne said, completely forgetting about the cheating. "Rohan was here and that rat told me everything but that."

"Ok, I'll tell you then, but you can't tell anyone else. Ro told me one day while babysitting me." The girl lowered her voice without thinking, as one did when telling secrets. "Do you know Kira's story?"

Jolyne knew part of the story, but not all of it. She knew that a serial killer had been on the loose in Morioh for years and that her dad had been in the area too. Rohan had written a play about it, changing the details, but she did not know the whole story.

Kira had been killing for years before he was caught in the summer of 1999. His first victim was Rohan's nanny, who had died saving him. Kira's dad had also killed Shizuka's biological mother. Having something so traumatic in common had brought them together.

Josuke healed everyone's wounds, that was Crazy Diamond's enormous and useful power, but it didn't take him long to realize that even though everyone seemed fine, there was someone who seemed to be even worse off than before. Digging up old trauma had hurt Rohan more deeply than Bites the Dust. Josuke's Stand could only heal physical injuries and, for the first time since his grandpa had died, Josuke Higashikata felt completely incompetent.

Josuke had been born to be a healer, that was what his soul showed. For a long time, he thought about being a policeman in Morioh, just like his grandpa, but the Speedwagon Foundation offered to help more people. He thought about studying to become a doctor, but considering what his Stand was already able to do, it was a bit of a waste of time. He wanted to heal people, but there were some things even his Stand couldn't fix. He was thinking of people like Rohan who needed another form of help. And one day, he realized that he had been thinking a lot about Rohan. Mostly, it was when he had seen Rohan dealing with children and helping people while pretending not to care.

"Really, what surprises me the most every time I think about it is that Josuke became a psychologist," Jolyne said, holding back a yawn, not out of boredom, but exhaustion. "Although, he may be more serious than I remember."

"No," Shizuka replied while giving a tired giggle. "My brother is the same clown you remember, maybe even more so. Can I stay overnight here with you?"

Jolyne didn't have to think twice. "Of course."

She understood that the girl cared about her. And anyway, they were both too sleepy to walk through the palazzo to Shizuka's designated room.

The next morning, Jolyne told Shizuka that she would have dinner with her and Holly, but that she had an inescapable commitment during the day. She didn't know what they were going to be doing, so she put on tight Versace jeans and a pink Moschino top with black lace. She considered putting on a pair of high heels, but thought better of it and instead chose a pair of black velvet and rhinestones Loubotin trainers.

When she got to Giorno's office, she realized that the trainers might actually suit her, because she may have to kick a couple of asses. Fugo and Mista did not put on a very good face when they saw her. Although, she could see that at least Giorno looked ready for the date, wearing black jeans and a pink Dior shirt. He was still elegant but much less formal than in his day-to-day life.

"You ready?" Jolyne asked, ignoring the other two.

"Actually, we were just about to ask Giorno if he could stay to take care of some business," Fugo said to her.

"Wow, miracle, you talked to me! It's a shame I don't give a sh*t," she said with a bright smile before turning to Mista. "Anything to add?"

"Absolutely nothing." Mista scratched under his hat. "Giorno needs to get some fresh air, but make sure he doesn't spend too much time in the sun or else his skin will start to suffer."

"I have factor 50 sunscreen in my bag so I won't have to sweep ash off the floor," she replied with a thumbs up.

"Do you have a bottle of water in case he starts to burn?"

"I have an umbrella, but if he burns, he should stop, drop, and roll," she said. "Can I feed him after midnight? Get him wet? I don't remember which rules are for vampires and which are for gremlins."

For the first time since they met, Jolyne and Mista exchanged smiles. Giorno was glad that those two seemed to be starting to get along, but he was weary of being the center of teasing. He offered his arm to Jolyne as they exited the room, but she pushed it away, asking where they were going.

"I see that you're becoming cozy with the newcomer," Fugo said.

"It's not that she's made me her friend, but she has helped us a lot. In truth..." Mista sighed, looking towards the door. "He may seem like a mess, but I've never seen him so happy as when he looks at her."

"I'm sure he'll be very happy when everything falls out of control," Fugo almost spat. "Even Abbacchio, who normally has common sense, is wrapped around her finger. Why don't you realize it? She tried to escape before and has insulted Giorno several times, even endangering everyone by calling her family."

"She's only a 19 year old girl. She had good reason to be scared. And about the call... Well, she wanted to know how her parents were doing."

"I was only 16 in Venice, but it seems like you still haven't forgiven me." Fugo turned on his heel and left.

Mista thought about calling him and asking him to stay and talk, but he knew it wouldn't work. He knew Fugo still blamed himself for having abandoned them, no matter how many times they told him that it was not his fault. It was something he would have to resolve himself.

In another part of the palazzo, Jolyne sat inside the huge black SUV with no idea of where they were going. Giorno was tight-lipped no matter how much she insisted.

Eventually, he began to loosen up. "You told me you wanted to visit a normal place, like tourists. Guess where?"

"The Forum? The Colosseum?"

"Something more cultural," replied Giorno.

"More cultural than that?"

"Forgive me for being Italian, cara."

"If we take into account that your dads are English and your mom Japanese, I'm much more Italian than you!"

"You thought that the carbonara sauce was made with cream instead of egg and you put pineapple on your pizza. Sorry, but that revokes your claims to Italian legacy. Let's go to the Vatican Museum and see the Sistine Chapel. Didn't you want a real tourist experience?" He threw a quick glance at her outfit. "If you want to see the Cathedral of San Pedro, you'll need a jacket; you can't show your shoulders."

They discussed whether to queue or not. Giorno told her that he knew people who could help them bypass the waiting line, but she told him that if they were going to be normal, they would have to do it the old fashioned way.

"Unless you're afraid of exposing your vampire skin to the sun," she said.

Her challenge faltered as they walked several blocks only to reach the very end of the line.

"I don't know if you like museums, but it's the most normal thing I could think of in Rome," Giorno said.

"I used to hang out with my mom a lot before I became a teenage gremlin who complained about everything." She sighed. "It wasn't considered cool, but I still liked it. She's cool, though. With all the chaos of my paternal family, it may look as if I've forgotten about her, but my mom is... I miss her a lot."

"Surely having a loving mother is great."

"Oh sh*t, is your mother dead or something?"

"Don't worry, as far as I know, Mrs. Shiobana is perfectly fine. From time to time, she lets me know that by asking for money," Giorno said dispassionately. "When I say that my family is Passione, I'm not lying. She never loved me, and my father didn't even know that I existed. And after knowing what kind of monster Dio Brando was, I think it was lucky that your father killed him before he sought out the fruit of his seed while searching for Stand users."

"That sucks." Jolyne took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Family may be something we can choose, but I hope things at least work out between you and Rikiel, your biological brother. It's always nice to have someone to yell at at holidays who's also compatible with you if you need a transplant."

"I don't think normal people talk about these kinds of things in these situations."

"Oh sh*t! So I guess I was doing it wrong all along..."

"From what I hear, getting rid of your last boyfriend was a good thing... Lots of bad experiences?" Giorno asked with nonchalance.

"Is talking about an ex normal?"

"Surprisingly, yes, it is very common. It's also usually uncomfortable. Ah, just joking, you don't have to answer."

She kicked a rock on the street, watching it roll away. "Then came Romeo, an asshole, but he listened to me, or at least he seemed to. When I think about it now, I realize that he was probably toying with me, treating me like garbage." Catching his gaze, she quickly added, "But you don't need to send a death squad to the US or anything. Putting that out there just in case."

"I would never send a death squad," Giorno replied, pretending to be offended. When Jolyne laughed, he smiled.

Of course he would never send over a death squad. It would be much more fun to kill this Romeo man himself.

"And you?" she prompted. "How was your love life after Mista? Yes, I know about him. A little birdie told me, but I can't tell you who."

"It must have been Trish. Abbacchio wouldn't care about being found out... But it's not like I have anything to hide about my dating life since 17."

Giorno vaguely explained that he and Mista had not hit it off completely, but they agreed to always remain good friends. He did not know how to tell her that the closest thing he had had to having a relationship since then were the times he chose someone to accompany him to a social event. Sometimes, he would meet a stranger for dinner, but it was practically a formality that preceded sleeping with them. Love hadn't even crossed his mind until she smiled at him and made his whole world reel. But it was too early for such a confession; he didn't want to perturb her.

They had been queuing for almost three-quarters of an hour when they saw a sign warning them that they had two more hours left.

"Maybe we shouldn't abuse normalcy either," Jolyne said. "If you have a way to get us through faster… I'm just saying."

It didn't take long for Monsignor Della Rossi to send one of his assistants to allow them direct entry. Giorno kindly declined his offer to act as their personal guide. Perhaps another day they would come back and accept a more cultural visit, but today, it was enough for him to see the wonders of art.

Anyway, Giorno knew the works quite a bit and didn't feel like having someone else tag with them. Usually, between business, Passione, and everything about his brother and Pucci, he wouldn't have much alone-time with Jolyne.

"There are more statues of naked people here than I expected," Jolyne said. "But what I don't get is why they're all castrated."

"Not all of them," Giorno said, trying not to laugh. "Some of them have fig leaves made with plaster on top."

"I don't know, having your genital cut off has got to hurt, but putting plaster on doesn't seem fun either." She stared at him. "Plaster or knife?"

"If I have Gold Experience in that scenario, then knife."

"Punzie, you have a worrying tendency to talk about cutting off parts of your body," Jolyne replied with a pained face. "Are you sure it isn't some kind of fetish?"

"For the love of... We're in the Vatican!" he whispered, trying to get her to lower her volume. "Wait, Punzie?"

"Magical blonde hair, a reptile fellow, green eyes, healing powers...You’re like Rapunzel."

"I should tell Polnareff that you called him a reptilian fellow. But anyway, I'm curious, what is your real hair color?"

Her lime blonde locks were expertly braided over a dark green background in her classic hairstyle, but the roots were beginning to show.

Jolyne seemed to blush and avoid his gaze. "I'm blonde, okay? Not as pale as you or my mom, but the Joestars’ legendary taste for blondes resulted in my hair. But after all that effort to do the dye job myself, call me blonde and I'll kill you."

Giorno tried to imagine her with hair similar to the wig she wore at the party. It wasn't what he was used to, but she looked beautiful in his imagination. Although, he was sure Jolyne would look beautiful with any hair color, perhaps even with a shaved head.

"I'm sure blonde suits you, as would any color."

"Well, it's good that you think so because I was thinking of going pink for a change, but it would be very Trish-esque, so maybe purple," said Jolyne, thinking seriously about a new look.

It could be considered a nice date if you didn't count the waves of tourists; the atmosphere between them was relaxed and full of jokes. Giorno's hand came to rest on Jolyne's waist, keeping her close. He used tourists as an excuse, but he loved having her this close.

"Wow, this guy looks like he's suffering horribly, but the statue is amazing."

They stood before a white marble statue in which a grown man and two teenagers were being seized by snakes. The older man, a bearded gentleman, was being held down while the younger two were being devoured. Even so, the greatest expression of pain in the scene was that of the adult, who was the main focus.

"This is Laoconte. Do you know about him?" When she shook her head, he continued. "He's a character from Greek mythology. Laoconte was a Trojan priest who saw the Greek army arrive. In order to prevent him from warning the Trojans, the gods summoned serpents to trap him. To torment him, they made him watch as the serpents ate his children. His pain is not out of fear of inevitably being eaten, but watching his children die. That's supposed to be the hardest of sufferings."

When he turned away from the statue, he saw that Jolyne was staring at Laoconte's face in silence. The rest of the world might as well have disappeared for her. He noticed that her eyes were unusually moist; when she blinked, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Even though he didn't know what she was thinking, he kissed her head and guided her to a less traveled area. They took a seat on the floor against the wall. Rather than saying anything, she just hugged him. He couldn't erase all the sadness from her, but he would hug for however long she wanted.

"I'm sorry, we were having such a great time. I don't know what came over me. It's just that… My dad almost died for me. He took so many bullets even after I said such terrible things to his face," she said between sobs. "He almost died and he did it without hesitation because he loved me."

Giorno's own experience with fathers and biological family was pitiful, but he could at least pretend to understand.

"They have always said that hate and love are two sides of the same coin, and at the same time, they both move the world," he said. "Revenge, fear... They’re things that have driven me. The closest thing to love was keeping my friends safe. Saving a daughter has to be a good reason to continue."

Seeing her smile through her tears, he knew she was already in better spirits. Perhaps he really did understand a little. He slightly separated from her but didn't let go of her hand.

"Having something so important to protect was something I always envied." In a voice so low that Jolyne hardly heard him, he added, "Until now... "

Clearing his throat, he stood up on his feet, pulling her along. "Ready for the Sistine Chapel? It's magnificent. You may have seen it in photographs, but seeing it in person will take your breath away..."

The Sistine Chapel was truly magnificent, but all of Michelangelo's work could not distract Jolyne from what she thought she had heard Giorno say.

"And what do people do when they leave the Museum?" she asked him when they neared the exit door.

"Normally, they go to the cathedral of San Pedro, but your shoulders are exposed..." He looked behind her. "Choose a color."

"Green. No, pink. Wait, no, black!" she said. "I guess it depends on what it's for. I like all colors."

Giorno smiled and picked out a simple black embroidered silk shawl from one of the shelves of a gift shop. After paying for it, he draped it around Jolyne's shoulders.

"Do I really have to cover up for... f*ck, is this silk?"

"Come on, I'm going to take you to see a corpse."

Jolyne thought he was joking, but he actually took her to see one. When he told her that they were going to see a dead pope, she thought he was going to pull some of his special connections, but then she saw that it was just another tourist attraction. Apparently, the last pope could not be buried until the current one died, that is, his corpse was exhibited. It wasn't the most romantic thing in the world, but Jolyne started to look forward to it when she heard the explanation.

Most cathedrals were made to impress people and St. Peter's Vatican was the center of Catholicism, so it carried that theatricality to the maximum. After seeing the papal fountain, they went outside. The baroque splendor inside was left behind to climb up to the great dome that led to breathtaking views. At least what little breath was left after climbing all those stairs. They were both left feeling hungry afterward.

"No fancy restaurants," Jolyne warned him.

And it wasn't exactly a fancy place, but as she found out later, it was still quite expensive. But it was worth it; the meal was made up of homemade food with fresh ingredients. It might have been a bit rude for everyone to refer to Giorno as "Don Giovanna," but the food was so delicious that neither of them paid any mind.

"Let’s keep walking," he said, albeit feeling lazy after having eaten. "Or we can take a tour bus."

With his sunglasses, Giorno hoped that no one would recognize him on the bus, but seeing Jolyne excitedly take pictures of everything and attend to both him and the guide, he stopped caring.

After taking a few photos, Jolyne took a selfie. Then she asked Giorno to pose with her. He was clear that at least one of those photos would be printed when she sent them to him. When the route ended, they got off the bus with renewed energy, ready to amble around the city some more on foot.

"It’s not so bad. I’ve been to Disney World multiple times, which also has a lot of walking."

"That may be, but Disney is not made on seven hills," Giorno replied. "Your home is quite flat."

"Seven hills? Now I understand the slopes."

"I can carry you if you’re tired," he offered. "We still have a long way to go."

"I don't need you to take me. What's more," she said, smiling provocatively, "I think I could carry you."

"I know you're strong, but..." He lifted his chin, looking down at her. "Look at you and look at me. You couldn't."

She cracked her knuckles. "Wanna bet? Get on my back."

"Jolyne, I'm not going to get on your back. I'll hurt you." He realized that people were starting to look their way.

Jolyne didn't care if the others were watching; she started imitating a chicken. Giorno sighed in resignation and made a gesture of acceptance. It was best to just humor her a little and get it over with. He felt ridiculous, shuffling as he climbed onto her back. It was almost astounding that she didn't crumble underneath all his muscle and weight. Just as he was trying to figure out where to put his hands, she took off without warning. He ended up gripping her shoulders harder than he meant to. She ran a few yards before gasping for breath.

"Let me down before we fall," Giorno urged her, but Jolyne only grunted with more effort. He leaned close and whispered right into her ear. "Jolyne... Have I mention to you before that you smell as wonderful as ever and you’re getting too close to me?"

He barely spoke before she abruptly stopped, letting him fall. If not for his good reflexes and GER, he would have landed on his butt.

"You scared me, you idiot!" She crossed her arms, trying to maintain her dignity.

"I'm sorry, but we were both going to topple." He bent down just enough to be at eye level with her. "Forgive me, please."

Several people passing by stared at them, some commenting aloud how adorable they were together. Jolyne blushed and grabbed his hand before steering them forward again.

"It's not like we could have hurt ourselves anyway. Your Gold Experience could have healed us. After all, amputation is your thing."

"I've always wanted to ask you…" Giorno ignored her comment, not falling into the provocation. "When we first met, you told me that my Stand was named after your goldfish." He often replayed the memory in his head, although it was more to do with her collapsing in his arms thereafter and how his body had stirred at her blood for the first time.

"I said that? Oh, right… I think I did. Well, in my defense, I was bleeding to death. But it's true, I had a goldfish called Gold Experience." It was as if Giorno had invoked Gold Experience Requiem's curiosity, as it suddenly manifested beside him. "I also had another one called Caraso Experience, but Gold Experience was with me longer, for years even."

“Non è tutto oro quel che luccica.” (Not all glitter is gold)

Perhaps sensing the Stand's presence, Stone Free promptly manifested itself by Jolyne's side, as if ready to protect her if necessary.

"Yes, it was a goldfish, not real gold," Jolyne replied to the Stand without quite knowing what to say to him. "A coincidence."

"Forse destino." (Maybe it's destiny)

“Ora,” added Stone Free.

Gold Experience stared at the other Stand. The two had never seen each other up close; the mighty Stand seemed more than curious about the blue Stand. Stone Free looked at him for a few seconds before disappearing.

“Amor tutti fa uguali,” the Stand said, sounding a bit defeated before disappearing. (Love makes us all the same)

"Sorry, Stone Free seems shy and is not used to dealing with too many people, much less other Stands."

"Well, Gold Experience often tends to be very inconsiderate. A little rejection once in a while is healthy for him."

"Remember, it's your own soul. Don't be mean to him," Jolyne scolded. "Poor Gold, I'll formally introduce them to one another some other day."

"Do you want my soul to seduce yours?" Giorno asked her, taking off his sunglasses while linking arms with her.

Jolyne gave him a half-hearted punch in the arm. "Don't be so, so Italian."

They approached the Trevi Fountain, but on the way, they continued to look at monumental buildings everywhere. It was as if the whole path was made of works of art.

"You know? I always thought that my mother was exaggerating when she told me how beautiful her country was. She said she wanted to show me one day." Jolyne looked at the facade of a small baroque church. "I'd like to see all this again with her. Not that my guide is being mean at all, but... I don't know, is it weird to think of my mother now?"

"The way you talk about her, I'm sure she's a wonderful woman," Giorno said earnestly. Looking over her shoulder, his smile froze. Before she could question him, he pulled her hand, urging her to move faster.

"Don't look now," he said with a disgusted expression, "but I just saw someone. Face forward and pretend not to notice him."

"Is it a Stand user?" She fought the urge to look back.

"Well." Giorno made a resigned face. "Now he is."

"Signore Giovanna!" shouted a familiar voice. Hearing the heavy footsteps close in, they had no choice but to face the oncomer. Roberto's boyish grin greeted them. "And Miss Regio, fancy seeing you here."

Giorno grunted while Jolyne greeted him amiably.

"It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" Roberto said before suddenly lowering his voice. "You're not in the middle of a mission, are you?"

"Not at all," Jolyne replied with a smile. She found that she quite liked him. "Mr. Giovanna was showing me around the city a bit."

"That's very gracious of you, Mr. Giovanna, but someone else could have done it for you." Roberto's voice was full of amicableness. "I myself could have organized the tour and accompanied Miss Regio and..."

"By Cristo benedetto, I can't believe I named such an idiot a capo," Giorno muttered. He turned to the man, taking off his sunglasses to fix his aquamarine gaze on him. "Mr. Castagnela, do you not realize that you are interrupting a date?"

Roberto looked at them both, noticing their entwined hands for the first time. He had been interested in Jolyne, but thinking of the Don's girlfriend romantically might cost him more than just his job. He flushed, embarrassed at the mistake. Stammering an excuse, he darted off.

At Giorno's not-so subtle smirk, Jolyne shook her head. "Look what you did. You didn't have to scare the poor guy half to death."

"You've seen me do much worse things, yet you have never cared before." His attempt to mask his jealousy was unsuccessful.

"Yeah, but I didn't like the others. The dude seems nice."

"Nice? God, free me from the nice ones. They often stab in the back. Besides, he is a mobster. I've told you before, there are no 'nice guys' in the mob. And don't remind me of Bruno."

Another person would be concerned when seeing the Don de Passione like this, but Jolyne started laughing, unable to stop until they finally reached the Trevi Fountain. The sheer grandeur of the place stole all the breath away from her.

"This is just like what I've seen in the movies, but maybe even better."

She was so enraptured looking at the fountain and Giorno at her, neither of them realized that the sky was full of black clouds and the people were leaving.

"Now I'm supposed to flip a coin, right?"

"Two coins, one with a wish and the other to return to Rome," he explained, rummaging in his pocket for coins. He found three. Since he already lived in the city, he only needed one. "Well, that's as long as you want to go back."

Instead of answering, Jolyne picked up one of the coins while whispering 'to go back'. Then she silently tossed the second and he tossed the last.

They stared at each other for a few moments. When a few drops fell from the sky, they thought it was the fountain's water splashing around, but very soon, it began to rain. They became soaked as they ran towards some nearby arcades.

"We're such idiots, especially me. I had an umbrella in my bag," said Jolyne.

"Yes, it would have been useful," answered Giorno, distracted by their closeness in the narrow arcades.

They could have taken out the umbrella and left, but at that moment, Jolyne looked at Giorno and Giorno at Jolyne, both of them drenched as twilight began to tint the skies above the city. He wiped away a drop of water that went straight to Jolyne's lips, almost jealous that the rain could touch them with total freedom while he had to settle for watching. She closed her eyes for a moment and parted her lips, almost inviting him.

"What did you wish for?" he asked, lowering himself until he was almost whispering into her ear, causing her to shiver slightly.

"I... I asked to beat Pucci and Donatello and be able to live in peace," she answered him with difficulty, as if his closeness made her forget how to think.

"Can I be honest?" he asked without moving away from her one bit. "I wished that I could kiss you."

"Maybe," Jolyne said, raising a hand to cup his face, "You should have asked me instead of the fountain."

Twilight, the sound of the fountain, and Jolyne so close to him—it was the perfect moment. Even though they were surrounded by other people who were taking shelter from the rain, it was as if everyone had disappeared. He had wanted to kiss her for so long, ever since they walked through the garden that first time, but now she was giving him open permission.

When his phone started ringing, Giorno ignored it. But then Jolyne's began ringing too while his continued to blare nonstop.

There were very few people who possessed both phone numbers, and those who did would know not to interrupt for anything. He forced down his annoyance.

"It's Abba," Jolyne said, glancing at her phone screen. "Maybe something happened. I'm going to..."

From Jolyne's disheveled face at the moment of answering, Giorno knew that something important was happening. He was going to ask her what it was when she gave the answer herself.

"Dad?"

Chapter 29: Think About Things

Chapter Text

The rain hadn't stopped, so they were soaked by the time the car picked them up. The heating helped so that at least they did not shiver, but it could not eliminate the feeling of discomfort that hung in the atmosphere. Of course, that was partly because humidity was the least of the things that floated in the air.

They had been on the verge of kissing in a perfect moment. But the moment had been shattered the moment Jolyne heard her dad’s voice. He was at the palazzo, having come for her.

As always, it didn't take too long for them to arrive. That's what happens when you don't care about traffic regulations.

"Maybe you should go change your clothes before meeting your father," Giorno said, seeing her hug herself.

"I'm not cold. Just overwhelmed," she replied. Her tone became hopeless. "Also, my dad isn't known for his patience. I’ll remind you that he's said to be the most powerful Stand user in the world."

“Well…”

"You're right, I've never given a sh*t about making you wait either," she replied sharply. "Sorry, I'm nervous. It's not your fault. I can become an asshole when I'm nervous, and you don't deserve it."

"Okay, I understand. I won't leave you alone, so you don't have to be nervous."

"Actually, I would rather you left us alone. Go shower with hot water and dress up as a big bad mafia boss. I need to talk to my dad."

The heating hadn't dried them, but they were only slightly damp when entering the palazzo. Jolyne mentally prepared herself to meet him, her always cold and serious dad. The last time she had seen him, he had told her that he had always loved her after almost a lifetime of not showing it. She wasn’t expecting a loving reunion.

Giorno tried not to break his expressionless facade. He might have been confident with Jolyne and trusted the Requiem, but only an idiot would be calm after challenging Jotaro Kujo, and technically, he had kidnapped his daughter.

Both had guessed wrong. Jotaro was talking to his mother, but as soon as he saw them, he stopped mid-sentence and headed towards them at full walking speed. He didn't even look at Giorno; his full focus was on his daughter. Without a word, Jotaro engulfed Jolyne in a bone-crunching hug. She could almost swear he was trembling as he did so.

"Are you okay?" Despite his cold tone, Jotaro was careful as he examined his daughter's face.

"Yeah, I mean, yeah." She felt slightly self-conscious. He hadn't hugged her since she was a little girl. "And you? With all the disc stuff..."

"I'm perfectly fine, or at least I am now." He wore a small hint of a smile.

It disappeared, however, when he looked over her shoulder. Giorno met his stare head-on.

"You and I need to have a serious talk," Jotaro said to him. "But I think you have saved my daughter, so for the moment, I'm grateful to you."

Giorno nodded, his face equally serious. The meeting had certainly gone down a lot better than he had thought, but he couldn't get too confident just yet. Still, he was safe enough to go take a shower while Dr. Kujo stayed with Bucciarati and his lovely mother. Thinking it over for a second, perhaps if he had met him all those years ago with Bruno's diplomatic presence, things would have gone better for everyone. Surely not much would have changed, but he had faith in Bruno.

He was more hurried than usual and smiled slightly as he dressed in his intimidating black Don suit, just as Jolyne had suggested. He worried that he was hurrying too much and might expose his anxiousness, but as he entered, he found Abbacchio in the meeting as well. Although Giorno appreciated him and would trust him with his life, he had absolutely no faith in the man’s social skills.

"And sure, she complains a lot, but it's surprising how well her Italian is already," Abbacchio could be heard saying. "Even her teacher is astounded. I guess it's because everything on TV is in Italian and she was bored. Besides, she needs it if she wants to participate in gossip."

"Jolyne has always been just as stubborn as she has been smart," replied Jotaro. He turned to the door as soon as he sensed Giorno's presence. "Oh, you're back."

"My apologies. I had to change my clothes." He cleared his throat before taking a seat in the chair presiding over the table. "Your arrival was quite unexpected, Dr. Kujo."

"Not that you are someone difficult to find, Giovanna. Difficult to access maybe, but not to find."

"Well, that's the thing about his position as head of the famiglia, doctor," Bucciarati replied. "But I assure you, the palazzo is the safest place you can find."

"Yet they attacked Jolyne in Naples," Jotaro said. "Rikiel informed me of this before he escaped from his other brother, trying to save Anasui. Perhaps he will come seeking shelter."

"I will give it to him if he asks me," Giorno said without hesitation. "And she may have been in Naples, but she was with me. I am the only one who can cancel Donatello's Stand attacks. That's why I brought her along with me while on my business. It was the only option; I was sure it was going to keep her safe."

Before Jotaro could respond, Holly piped in. "Well, we can all see with our own eyes that she’s completely intact. She learned a lot of things too. And thanks to Rohan-kun, Giorno is not affected by our blood."

To that, Jotaro said nothing, although the mangaka's horrified face came to his mind, as always when he heard her call him that.

Holly turned to Giorno. "Rohan is such a good, sweet boy underneath that slight layer of hostility..."

Jotaro's gaze met Giorno's; they both knew they were thinking the same thing. If Rohan Kishibe was 'slightly' hostile, they didn't know what someone totally hostile would be like.

It wasn't long before they heard Jolyne's voice as she advanced down the hallway, speaking to Shizuka. The pair hadn't yet arrived before Holly had gotten everyone in the room, except for her son, to stand up and leave. She did it with such motherly efficiency that later, Bruno would seek her out for a ton of advice.

Jolyne had put on a comfortable outfit, which consisted of leggings and a very wide T-shirt that almost covered her like a dress. The shirt was from a music group that Narancia had recommended to her and whom Abbacchio had stated 'didn't suck at all'. She kept her signature buns, but the braid was absent; her medium length hair instead flowed down her back. Jolyne thought about getting a little more done but then reminded herself that she was only going to meet her dad. She discarded the couture clothes; ordinary families didn't need to dress formally.

As Jolyne watched them all leave, Holly called for Shizuka to go with her. It was obvious that she was being left alone to talk to her dad privately. She took a breath before entering the room. There were several seating options. She unconsciously sat down in the same one Giorno had sat in. It was the most comfortable and was right across from her dad.

There was much she had wanted to say to him when he had been in a coma, but now that he was physically right in front of her, words failed her.

"I think you’ve already been told many things," Jotaro began, looking at her. "I always thought that when the time came, when there were no enemies left, I would be the one to tell you. But the enemies did not end, and time passed. I should have told you things sooner but I didn't. For that, I'm really sorry."

She found her voice. "I think I understand why you did it. Maybe I would have liked you to have done things differently, but still... Thank you for apologizing." After saying that, there was an awkward silence. "Where is mom?"

"She's fine. In fact, right now she's in France. She'll be coming tomorrow. She is being guarded by your friends and your great uncle Josuke, who has gone to meet Kishibe at the Louvre. Marena is safe and looking forward to seeing you." He seemed to think before speaking again, clearing his throat before he continued. "I had a long talk with your mother and I told her about... Everything. It took her a while to process it, but she's a strong woman. She'll be able to handle it."

"It never, you know, crossed your mind to tell Mom anything about what was going on? I mean, does Mom really know why you left us?" She tried to be cool about asking, but inevitably felt her eyes water a little as she did so.

"Your mother knew I was working on top secret matters, things I couldn't tell her about and that might put you in danger. She knew this when we got divorced." Jotaro was a brave man, but seeing his daughter with her voice breaking was something he had a hard time facing. "I didn't leave because I didn't love you or your mom. Doing that is the hardest thing I have ever done. And believe me, I've done a lot of difficult things."

Jolyne knew her dad wasn't lying to her, but too many things erupted inside her. Anger at him for letting her believe he didn't love her, and anger at Donatello for being the one to cause them to separate, for killing her great-grandpa, for shattering her life into little pieces. And anger at herself, for having conformed and not investigating.

Before she knew it, her dad was getting up from his chair and going to her. She realized she was crying. She didn't want to cry; that was for whiny little girls. She had cried in jail when she thought she couldn't stand it, and she had cried in secret too many times. Jotaro crouched down to her height and pulled her to him in a tight embrace.

Many people thought that Jotaro Kujo had no feelings, but nothing could be further from the truth. Jolyne was his heart. It hurt him in an unimaginable way to have to walk away. She had been the Polar star of his life. He crossed the world as a teenager to save his mother, after even attemping suicide out of fear that he could hurt her. Jotaro loved his family, from his grandparents to his aunt Shizuka and uncle Josuke. He had a special place for his friends; he had not even stopped looking for Polnareff after so many years. And he certainly loved his ex-wife. Had loved her and still did.

"Jolyne, my Polaris, what pains me most is all that you have suffered because of me."

Jolyne didn’t know how long she cried, maybe minutes or hours, as she hugged her dad. She needed to get a lot of things out of her system. Her dad was not a big talker, but he knew how to be there and he certainly knew how to give a hug.

"It's been years since anyone called me Polaris," Jolyne replied to him when she ran out of tears.

"Do you know why I call you Polaris?" he asked her. She shook her head. "I explained it to you once, but you were too little to understand. Polaris is the star that sailors use to orient themselves. Polaris is the way to find home."

They continued talking. He told her how ever since he returned from Egypt, his life had been surrounded by darkness, immersed in a darkness that never ended up going away even when he met Marena and she walked beside him. But then Jolyne was born, with that little mark on her tiny shoulder, and she was like a star in the sky pointing the way. For years, he thought the darkness was gone, but then the shadows came back to haunt him. They had never left, only regrouped and grown stronger. And he had to move away from their light so that she would not be extinguished.

He did something wrong, and that was moving away from his Polaris. Rather than protecting her, he had left her at the mercy of those who wanted to harm her, taking too long to find her and save her. But at least he had been wrong; she was strong, stronger than he had thought. His Polaris was not some kind of distant star. She had Joestar blood like him, and it had been she who had leapt to his defense despite having been left on her own.

"Dad, that's the nicest, nerdiest thing anyone has ever said to me," said Jolyne, blinking fast so she wouldn't cry.

"If that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you, I think I have even more reason to beat up your boyfriend," Jotaro said with a serious expression. It was unclear whether he was joking or not.

"He's not my boyfriend anymore," Jolyne clarified to him. "And I’m going to be the one to give him a beating, but you’re free to watch..."

Jotaro let out a small smile at that, and Jolyne chuckled. They were talking very lightly about hitting Romeo, though it was indeed an idea she had in her mind. Maybe they should do more than just hitting him. Maybe hurting his pride, since he thought of himself as such an impossibly beautiful man. She should send him a picture of Giorno to lighten her mood. Jolyne tried to keep her expression neutral; the last thing she should be doing was to think about Giorno in front of her dad.

"What are your plans now?" Jolyne asked. "I mean, I know Giorno is tracking Donatello, and I thought you were tracking Pucci, but I'm really not clear on what you're doing."

"Well, the whole Speedwagon Foundation is on that, but there is a place I want you to go to first. It's also in Italy. I think you'll like it. We'll go in about three days so that your friends will have time to rest."

"Wait, you mean we're leaving this place?"

"It's about time, Jolyne. Even if you've made friends with those gangsters, they are... after all, gangsters." He looked at her seriously. “Speaking of, what were you doing with Giovanna this afternoon?"

"We went to the Vatican and saw churches, museums, and art stuff," she replied quickly, for once thankful that her father didn't know her well enough to know when she was hiding the truth. "It's a nice place, Italy. Mom always told me that."

Jotaro nodded. He had never been too interested in art, but his mother was. Being married to an Italian woman while being the grandson of another meant he had seen quite a few works of art.

Jolyne smiled at her father, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the silence. She was glad to see him and to have her mother and her friends soon, but the news that she had to leave came as a shock. She knew she had to go. Not so long ago, she was looking forward to it, but a lot had changed since then.

Maybe they were closer to ending it all and being able to go back to their normal lives. That should cheer her up. So, why did she feel a heavy weight in her chest?

Chapter 30: Butterfly Fly Away

Chapter Text

Of course, they were going to bring her mom in Speedwagon vehicles along with her friends. That was good; they would be safer. Jolyne was also looking forward to seeing Josuke, but apparently, his arrival was going to be delayed a few more hours because Rohan had a meeting in Paris. They had decided it wasn't a good time for Rohan to be alone, although Jolyne suspected he hadn't had much to do with that decision. The fact that he hadn't used his Stand against all of them spoke volumes about the mangaka's feelings for Josuke.

Jolyne had dressed early that morning after spending some time looking through her closet. It felt weird to dress in designer clothes to greet her mom, but it was either that or the clothes chosen by Abbacchio, which would make her mom question whether she returned to her teenage years.

She didn't have to wait long to see Marena Regio Kujo's blond head emerge from a Speedwagon Foundation car. Her mom had only to look in her direction before she was running to her daughter. Jolyne rushed forward to meet her embrace. After the tight hug, Marena took a step away, as if to check that her daughter was still in one piece. It had been a few months since she had last seen her, yet it felt like an eternity.

"I was dying with worry, but you look so much better than the last time I saw you," her mom said with a laugh.

"I couldn't call you for security reasons. It's all been..."

"I know, I know." She squeezed her into a hug again. "But you're okay and that's what matters." She pulled away. More people had gotten out of the cars and were waiting their turn.

F.F. didn't hesitate to run over and hug Jolyne, almost losing her water bottle in the process. Ermes followed her, and between the three of them, they hugged each other so tightly that their sides ached afterwards. Emporio joined them when the hug no longer seemed like an attempt to strangle each other. Weather Report touched Jolyne's shoulder and told her he was glad to see her well.

"It looks like it's going to rain," Giorno told them, glancing up at the sky. He stood a little further away from the rest, having watched the whole proceeding. "If you would, please join us inside."

"I can make it not rain," Weather Report whispered too close to Jolyne's face. She almost jumped, having forgotten his habit of doing that.

"It would be too suspicious here. The weather isn't as fickle as in Florida," she said. Weather Report nodded and walked towards the mansion.

Giorno's unhappy gaze followed the man's retreating back. There was something he wanted to say, but he decided that it wasn't a very opportune time. Within the next few hours, he would quickly come to realize that Jolyne's friends were just an odd bunch with quirks no stranger than his friends' own. And they were family to her, just as his group was to him.

There was much they had to say to one another, so for a while, the concept of a structured conversation disappeared from everyone's vocabulary. Jotaro kept a watchful eye, standing in a corner of the living room, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the merry fuss died down.

"Hey, where is Anasui? I'm guessing his body is still weak because of what happened to his Stand," Jolyne said. "Was Rikiel able to deliver it to him without a hitch?"

Silence befell them and all eyes turned to Ermes, whom they had decided would explain everything.

"Rikiel did manage to find us, but..." Ermes cleared her throat. This wasn't as easy to do as she had imagined. "But they found us. Pucci came. He told Rikiel he was going to force him to tell them what he knew about you and Giorno, to figure out how to capture you... Anasui jumped on the priest without thinking, even though he still didn't have his disk back. Pucci was too fast..."

Weather Report pulled out a small box and carefully passed it to Jolyne. With trembling fingers, she opened it and saw that there were shattered disc pieces inside. She froze, unable to comprehend anything. For a moment, she wondered if she had misunderstood what was going on. This couldn't possibly be a Stand disk. Was it even possible to destroy one of them?

"Apparently, Pucci can do this too. It was instantaneous at least. He didn't suffer," Ermes said. "His body was returned to his family, but... He would have wanted you to have what was left." Inside, one of the pieces was rose gold plated. "He kept saying that he wanted to be with you."

"He never asked if you felt the same way..." said F.F. "Ok, I guess that doesn't matter now."

Jolyne stared at the pieces. Having killed before, she was no stranger to death, but losing her friends was another matter. Anasui may have been many things, but she had considered him one of her allies. In the end, he had died for her, and she hadn't even felt his absense. He had died for her, yet she hadn't even noticed till now that he was missing. Immense guilt pooled in her stomach, making her feel sick. She felt paralyzed, as if everything was shutting down, her head pounding. She wasn't even aware that tears were starting to run down her cheeks.

In a half asleep state, she was almost unaware of her mom wiping away her tears, of how she insisted to everyone that her daughter would be fine and she just needed to be left alone, of how Giorno led them all out, or of Bruno's whispers asking her mom if Jolyne was better. Guilt and shock struck her as her mom stood by her side, stroking her hair.

"Maybe we could have a little funeral for him," Marena said to cheer Jolyne up once they were in her room. "Nothing big, but we can give him a proper sendoff."

"That's a good idea," Jolyne said. "I think I have an idea. I'll call Giorno."

Jotaro, who was on the couch, spoke up for the first time. "He's the Don of Passione. He couldn't possibly have the time for that."

The boy may have been taking care of his daughter, but Jotaro hadn't forgotten who he was and what he did for a living. To both of their surprise, Giorno showed up shortly after she had sent him a message. Marena raise an eyebrow at this.

And so the powerful and very busy boss of Passione appeared in Jolyne's room as if he had been waiting for the call and asked her with soft words if she was feeling better. He seemed to want to take Marena's place in hugging her and stroking her hair.

"I was thinking… We could maybe have a small ceremony to send him off," said Jolyne, separating slightly from her mom.

"Of course, that's a great idea," Giorno said.

"Yes, thank you," Marena said. Despite the somberness of the situation, she couldn't help but be amused by how obvious his feelings were. She knew he was hardly aware that she and Jotaro were there.

"You can ask for anyone's help and request anything you need, you know that," said Giorno, making it even more evident that he was wholly focused on Jolyne.

"Actually, I think I'm going to need your help for a moment."

After lunch and a change of clothes, the Florida group came to the lakeside. Giorno remained by Jolyne's side and Narancia accompanied them to show Jolyne his support. Having met the rest a while before, he seemed to get along well with F.F. the most. He kept getting this strange feeling about the girl, as if she wasn't so different himself. He recalled Jolyne mentioning something long ago about one of her friends being plankton, which intrigued him. Meanwhile, F.F. was getting a similar feeling about him being inhuman. She approved of Jolyne's new Italian friends, but especially Giorno, who had saved her. He seemed like a nice person, not to mention his affinity with animals.

"Anasui may not have been a good person," Weather Report said. "But he died trying to help someone else. That has to count. I'll miss him."

Ermes looked around, unsure of whether she should speak. Anasui had helped them, but only because of Jolyne, and Ermes had never felt too much appreciation for him. Knowing that F.F. was not going to speak her own piece, someone else had to, since it was a tribute.

"I hardly knew him. Not many people actually did, I think, including himself. I wish he would have had more self-awareness and clarity of mind. He could have had a second chance to have made things right for himself." Ermes sighed heavily. "He might never have made it or he might have, quien sabe, but it certainly wasn't for Pucci to decide. No one deserves to f*cking die like that, pinche Pucci."

Emporio took a tentative step forward, still finding it hard to accept that he was in full view of everyone and didn't have to hide.

"I... I'm not used to people being nice to me, or in general. I was born in a hostile place, but Anasui was good to me. He was one of the first people who were. I feel... sad and..." Tears filled his eyes. "It hurts."

Jolyne offered her arms, but Emporio refused and continued to cry silently. The child's pain infected them all, breaking the strange atmosphere. Sadness, the familiar sadness, enveloped them.

"I didn't know him much, but he was always willing to help me," began Jolyne. "He said he was in love with me. I didn't think that was possible because we barely knew each other. But while many people abandoned me, he didn't, and loving me cost him his life. Maybe in another world, I would have reciprocated. Maybe if things were different, I could have helped him, but now, the only thing I can do is remember him and..." She cleared her throat and opened the box containing fragments of the disc. All but the gold-plated one, which now hung on a chain around her neck. "I know it isn't the real thing, but I'd like to set you free."

When Giorno touched the box, each fragment turned into a pink maple moth that flew up into the air. Everyone watches the tiny winged creatures take to the skies for the first time, free and pure.

Guilt is a bitter feeling. She may never have asked him to help her, but she couldn't help thinking that it had all been her fault. She wanted to be alone for a while, to think and process what had happened. Apologizing to everyone, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once there, she sat on the toilet bowl. She covered her mouth, trying to silence herself, feeling the spasms in her stomach.

Because of her, a person had died, someone who had only ever tried to help her. It's not like he was even the first. Everyone who approached her ended in a bad place if they didn't leave her first. She had heard that the Joestar star was an unlucky symbol. Perhaps she was bad luck that was instilled through the generations.

She began to feel physically ill. Could guilty feelings do that? She didn't know, but maybe she deserved it. A stomach ache was insultingly little next to the death of a person.

"Jolyne, are you okay?" She heard Giorno call out to her on the other side of the door. "Well, you're not okay, but..."

"Yeah, I'm crying in the bathroom because I'm great," she said between choked sobs.

"I can go if you want, but I'd like to check that you're ok first."

"I'm a horrible crying mess."

"You may be a crying mess, but I'm sure you're not horrible. You're too pretty for that, signorina," he said.

"f*ck you." Jolyne opened the door, revealing her teary face and red eyes. "I'm a mess, I'm..."

Her face turned pale. She felt the urge to puke and not in a metaphorical sense.

"Go away, I'm going to throw up," she barely managed to say before she whipped around, lifted the lid, and clung to the toilet while throwing up all her lunch.

She felt someone push aside her hair so it wouldn't stain and pat her back until she finished. Giorno helped her up off the floor and waited outside while she washed up. She felt disgusted but oddly relieved.

"The same day I became Don, I spent at least an hour crying in the bathroom and then threw up quite a bit."

"You were fifteen years old. It's normal."

"Well, you can't really know that. You didn't know me when I was fifteen. I might have been considered creepy."

"I don't doubt it, Abbacchio told me so," replied Jolyne. "How did you get over it? The pain of losing your friends."

"Well..." Giorno indicated for her to sit down. "I cried a lot for them. Reminiscing about them with the people who had also loved them helped. There were days we would get together over a glass of wine and tell anecdotes about them... Then on the day I turned 20, my vampire blood awakened, and I defied nature and God to bring them back as best I could." He paused, frowning. "No, I'm not a good example. But the talking part... Well, it helps."

Jolyne sat up straighter, realizing something. "Wait, maybe Anasui could come back..." Her eyes filled with hope.

"If you have the body, though it wouldn't be fully human, it's possible," Giorno said hesitantly. From what he had gleaned, the deceased had also been in love with Jolyne. It was practically like putting a love rival in his own way, but at the moment, he would do anything to end Jolyne's suffering.

"Oh. f*ck." Her shoulders slumped. "They said he was cremated, just like everyone else who dies in that damn prison," she said, her voice shaky with hatred. "I guess I have to let him go."

Silence ensued.

After a while, Giorno stood up. "Trish has come by. She was looking for you, though she's with your friends right now. Your father also wants to talk to me. Maybe you should spend time with them in the meantime, if you're up for it."

Trish, who was a specialist in light kind of conversations, decreed that they were going to have a girls' night out that night. She wanted everyone to put on their pajamas and occupy Jolyne's room. The girls who arrived in the room heard a deep voice shout 'equating me to a woman for being gay is hom*ophobia'. Even with that, Abbacchio did not escape his fate of having to show up dressed in black pajamas that read "I'm not a morning person", with the pants strewn with a pattern of an adorably drawn bat with an angry face across it. He wore it with surprising dignity; the fact that he was so tall and strong helped.

"I love your pajamas. I recognize Bruno's handiwork. Did he give them to you?" asked Trish.

"Bruno is the hottie angel with the big blue eyes, isn't he?" asked Ermes.

"Yes, and he's also going to be this man's husband as soon as we make time to go forward with a ceremony," replied Trish, ready to gouge the eyes of anyone who even thought of threatening the couple who were almost like parents to her.

"Easy girl, I wasn't implying anything. He's very handsome too. Damn, I should have come to Italy sooner. Are you all like that, or does joining the mafia make you extra beautiful?"

"I eat human flesh from people who annoy me," Abbacchio said in a mock threatening tone, though not necessarily lying.

"So that's what you are! I knew there was something off about you guys. If you're a zombie, then the other boy must be too!" shouted F.F. excitedly. "You must need a lot of dead people. My body is only made up of one dead person, but before, it was a lot more complicated. I understand you!"

"Gimme a break," Jolyne said, seating herself in the middle of their group. "I'm starting to regret doing all this. It's supposed to be a jolly girls' night out, but I suspect it's going to go wrong for me."

"Not at all, Sorellina. We're going to have a good time."

They shared anecdotes as they refilled their glasses. It was nice actually; the Floridians reminisced about Anasui as Trish and Abbacchio told them about their time with Jolyne in Italy. In passing, they all got to know each other a little, but Trish more so than Abbacchio, who was trying to avoid F.F.'s insistent gaze on him. The plankton girl seemed fascinated by his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to modify her own to look like his.

"I'll never forget what Jolyne was screaming about when we first met," Ermes said. She had just finished laughing at an anecdote Trish had shared about Jolyne running away from everyone when they tried helping her dress up for the party. "I'm never going to forget it."

"That's my greatest wish, for you to forget about it," whispered Jolyne. "I don't think anyone wants to know that story."

"Oh f*ck, I want to hear it," blurted out Abbacchio, who had been so impassive to the party that he put on a unicorn moisturizing face mask so that they left him alone.

"Since Mr. Sexy Papi wants to know, I owe it to my audience." Ermes cleared her throat and observed Jolyne for any signs of an attack to shut her up. She was only met with a look of rancor. "So, as it goes, the little twerp was banging her head in her cell and yelling something like 'I can't get married anymore!'. When I asked her what she was on about, she admitted to being caught by a guard rubbing her junk. And I was like ‘chica, aren't you supposed to be badass and experienced?’"

Trish burst into giggles, doubling over. "Oh Jolyne, Jolyne, Jolyne, you're so funny. You really said 'I can't get married anymore'? You almost sound like a virgin!"

Jolyne opened her mouth several times to respond, only to utter choked sounds. Her face reddened.

Trish scrutinized her. "Oh… you're a virgin." She fumbled, trying to play it down so as not to make her feel bad. "It makes sense. You're young, only 19, and you lived with your mama. There's no shame in it."

"The day of the accident, I planned for Romeo and I to..." Jolyne ducked her head in embarrassment. "Well anyway, then I went to jail and nothing happened. Now I don't plan to do it with him at all. Ever. The only blood that's going to be lost between the two of us is his when I punch him."

"I want to punch him too, girl. Me too." Ermes gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, I'm in too," Trish said, hiccuping. "Hey… I have to go to the bathroom." She shakily got up on her feet and started to leave the room.

"Trish, there's a bathroom here," said Abbacchio with a suspicious tone.

Trish didn't give him time to say anything else. After muttering an overly cheerful and unconvincing 'too many people around', she stormed outside. Due to the alcohol in her system, her steps were sluggish and too slow for her liking. Giorno had to be in his office since there was no light in the room across the hall, his bedroom. She had almost reached her destination when she heard the distinctive sound of a zipper.

"Leone sent me a message, and I can see he wasn't mistaken," said Bruno. "Trish, you can't share something disclosed to you on a Girls' Night Out. It's like a priest telling confession secrets."

"But GioGio is my friend, and he'd be interested in knowing. If he just steps it up, he'll have Jolyne's first time."

"Trish, no," Bruno warned her. "I was keeping an eye on Nara, Shizuka, and Emporio. Maybe you should go play video games with them instead of going to tattle on people."

"Maybe you should go back with them. Don't leave the kids alone."

"Marena is keeping an eye on them, but one of my girls is causing trouble right now."

It was very easy to forget that the lovely and energetic Trish was also a Stand user. Bruno used to forget that all the time, just as he did now. He was reminded of that fact just as the floor beneath him gave out, becoming soft like jelly.

Trish may have been a fast, powerful Stand user, but Bruno had become an efficient killer when she still had baby teeth. Not to mention he was currently the only sober one of the two. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to sink into the void of zippers and appear behind her. Now he only had to dodge Spice Girl's punches. The shouts of their Stands caused quite a ruckus, attracting attention. The door to Giorno's office flew open, with neither of them being any the wiser.

"Trish Una!" shouted Bruno, zipping her mouth shut just as she dodged the last punch. "You can't just go telling Giorno that Jolyne is a virgin!"

"What?" said Giorno from behind him, standing next to Jotaro and Weather Report.

Chapter 31: I Was Made for Loving You

Chapter Text

Of all the guests at the palazzo, Giorno hadn't expected Trish to be the one to make the most fuss, but he wasn't entirely surprised either. The pre-teens were relatively quiet under the watchful eye of Marena, who had even joined in the little video game competition. Abbacchio was soberer than the others at the little slumber party they had set up, so he escorted the two American girls to their designated rooms.

He didn't know why, but Bruno was very insistent in helping Abbacchio accompany the girl named Ermes, who muttered something like 'he's a sexy papi, but he's MY sexy papi'. On second thought, he would rather not know.

Dr. Kujo had observed the whole situation with a cold expression but said nothing. Judging from the way they resumed their conversation about the technical details of the plans, he didn't seem to suspect anything about Giorno's feelings for his daughter. Dr. Kujo always seemed analytical, but when it came to Jolyne, it appeared as thought he was not able to see her as an adult. Perhaps it did not occur to him that someone could have a romantic interest in her.

Giorno was almost grateful that Mrs. Marena wasn't there at the time, because she seemed to have discovered his feelings for her daughter on the fly. Even the man called Weather Report hadn't stopped staring at him since Bruno's shout.

He tried not to think too much about what Bruno had said. Jolyne's sex life before she met him or the absence of it was not his business. Above all, it was best not to keep thinking about anything to do with sex and Jolyne, considering her parents were there. Not that he was going to try anything while they were there, although he had been so close…

Giorno sighed in frustration, remembering how they had almost kissed in the rain. They had both been consenting, and the way she had looked at him... Everything was perfect, but it was as if a demiurge or evil author of his destiny had decided that it was not yet time. Maybe it would never be; it was as if the time he had spent with her so far had been a dream and now it was time to wake up.

He prepared himself to sleep, or at least he would try to, knowing that even though he was tired, sleep would be very elusive again. At least the next room was quiet, where only Jolyne was sleeping, hopefully peaceful at last.

Or so he thought until he heard a knock on his door. He put on his favorite Versace robe in an attempt at decency, covering some of his chest, and opened it.

Jolyne couldn't sleep. She should be tired, which she was, but sleep still wouldn't come. She supposed that's what happened when you had a crisis and went blank for a good part of the day. Sleep slipped through your fingers. Maybe she should have said yes to F.F. when she asked Jolyne if she wanted her to sleep over. She had thought she'd be better off alone, but now it was too late. Besides, her friends had arrived only that same morning after a long trip. She didn't want to go bother her dad either. The option of calling Bruno and Leone was on the table, but Narancia once told her that she didn't want to know what happened between them when they were alone, doing terrible things. While she was sure Narancia meant only that they had sex and he may have discovered them by accident, it wasn't something she wanted to see either.

The best option, the one she tried to avoid, was Giorno. He had seen her when she was filthy without complaints, just as she had seen him as a red-eyed, blood-thirsty vampire for the first time. Maybe he was sleeping already; she only had to go out the door and check. If he had his lights off, she wouldn't disturb him.

She went to the door, expecting the lights to be off, but found a thin trail of golden light in the crack beneath the door. She mumbled a swear word and thought about turning around. They had given her face masks, painted her nails, combed her hair... So she looked pretty good, and she was even wearing the pajamas Trish had picked out, the satin ones, not the funny cotton ones with the weird phrases that Abbacchio had chosen.

She knocked on the door, but not too loudly. Giorno's voice could be heard on the other side, saying he was coming. It didn't take long for him to appear with his hair down, smelling of expensive night creams and in a robe only partially closed. She forgot what the hell she was doing there. Okay, she couldn't sleep, but of all the things Giorno could cure that she knew of, insomnia wasn't one of them. She blushed when she realized she was staring at him, though she mentally told herself that it was his fault for always looking like a cross between a renaissance painting and a romance novel cover illustration.

"Jolyne, are you all right?" he asked her with a slightly worried tone.

"Yeah, sorry for bothering. It's really silly... but I just couldn't sleep, then I saw light and..."

"Come in, I can't sleep either," he said kindly. "Do you want to talk? We can watch a movie if you're tired of 'talking it over' all day with everyone."

"Watching a movie sounds good. Take your pick. Would you mind if I ended up falling asleep at some point?"

Giorno smiled at her, shook his head, and told her to wait in the comfortable armchair; she realized it was the same one she had said looked comfy enough to sleep on. It turned out there was a screen hidden behind a box that appeared with a remote control. Giorno returned with a fluffy blanket.

"Would you like something to drink or eat?" he asked before sitting down.

Jolyne declined and sat down, strangely tense. Her body was begging her to relax, to move closer to Giorno, and rest against him, against his warmth and comfort... Giorno looked at her for a moment before opening his arms to her. She could no longer help but give in to his wishes and cuddle herself against his warmth, though she was more aware than ever of what he was wearing. Thanks to him, Leone, and Bruno, she had become accustomed to seeing men lightly clad, but seeing wasn't the same as leaning directly against bare skin. It was both uncomfortable and pleasant at the same time, but she finally managed to relax a little.

"I hope you like it. The movie is a bit weird; it’s a remake of a Bulgarian movie from the 80's called The Fall. The main character's actor is going to make an appearance in the last Twilight movie next year."

Jolyne didn't expect anything from a movie with those characteristics. It was a wounded man telling a story to a girl to trick her into doing things to help him commit suicide. All Jolyne expected was to fall asleep. But surprisingly, the power of the images and the strength of the story made her completely absorbed. She finished the movie more awake than before but with a smile on her lips.

"f*ck, that was mind-blowing. I love it!" Jolyne said with a still dumbfounded expression. "Now I'm wider awake, but wow."

"I'm starting to be able to predict when you're going to like something," Giorno said with a smile. The next part came out a whisper. "Or almost always."

Jolyne stared at him out of the corner of her eye, feeling herself blush again. It might have been just a blood thing at first, but she was almost certain that Giorno liked her. Did she like him? Well, she believed that any human being with functional eyes would find Giorno likable. She had always found him attractive, even when she despised him in the beginning. Then she had discovered more about him and had gotten to know his soft side and his cruel side. The laughs he didn't seem to share with anyone, his fears, how he trusted her like no one else had ever done. How her heart went crazy every time he touched her and how she had longed to kiss him at that moment in the rain.

What she couldn't understand was why someone with his status, his charisma, his power... everything, would like someone like her. She had understood the attraction to her blood, but thanks to Rohan, that no longer existed. Sometimes, she thought that maybe she was imagining things, but then he would do something that proved otherwise. She had at first rationalized that he was simply courteous by nature, but she had already witnissed him almost step on a sobbing young woman who was in his path.

She may not have had the highest self-esteem, but Giorno liking her seemed pretty clear.

"Can I ask you something?" She didn't even give him time to nod. "Why do you like me?"

"I knew it was too obvious." He laughed humorlessly, cheeks flushed. "I could spend all night praising you or telling you everything I like about you, but since you haven't already run from my arms, It's safe to dream of being reciprocated. Then... Would you let me kiss you? I've been wanting to do that since..."

Jolyne didn't know if Giorno's dreams included her cutting him off mid-sentence to kiss him, but considering how he clutched her against him, he didn't seem to have any complaints.

It was not her first kiss, she had had others before even Romeo, but with Giorno, the previous experiences paled.

Giorno's kisses were like him; they might seem controlled and unhurried, but they hid a volcano. He seemed to want to devour her, but like a gourmet, he planned to savor her. Every time he parted from her, he would whisper words in Italian against her lips, praising her beauty, telling her how she made him feel. However, it was never too many, nor did he move away even a little because he seemed not to be able to leave her lips.

Giorno's hands roamed her waist as she dug her fingers into his hair, unwilling to pull so much as a millimeter away more than necessary. They didn't know which of the two was the initiator of this hunger for each other, but it was intensifying.

Jolyne had never felt like this. She was being worshipped like a goddess, not kissed like a child. Despite the overwhelming force of everything she was receiving from him, it was all love.

Giorno affectionately caressed her cheek with one hand while moving the other down her hips, making the most impudent of promises. The intensity of the kiss increased. Giorno's every action seemed to scream that she was his, but his to worship.

Between moans, a 'ti amo' came from Giorno's lips that melted with Jolyne's. Her whole body blushed, feeling hotter and hotter as her blood rushed to the surface. Then, Giorno suddenly stilled. Dazed, Jolyne slightly withdrew. That's when she noticed his red eyes and dilated pupils, his body tense like an animal on the verge of attacking its prey.

"Leave," he said in a raspy voice.

The change in tone surprised Jolyne so much that she sprung away from him.

"The thing Kishibe did to me…" Giorno said. "It's not working anymore. Please. Leave."

Jolyne knew when to fight and when to retreat. Staying would only make things more difficult for Giorno. She stood up.

Jolyne paused by the door. "Do you want me to send for someone?"

"No, just... Leave. If possible, go with your friends or even with your father," said Giorno with difficulty. "I want to take you, Jolyne. The beast is always urging me to unleash it, and I can only hold it back for so long."

Chapter 32: Torna A Casa

Chapter Text

Giorno had fulfilled his desire, yet it had turned into his worst nightmare. It was not the first time it had happened to him, but it hurt no less.

He tried not to breathe until he was submerged in ice water, where he bathed for almost an hour. If it weren't for his Stand, he didn't doubt that he could have gotten sick. It wasn't just to cool down, but to remove any trace of her scent. He compulsively rubbed himself until he was bloody. Gold Experience cured that too, but the pain was all the same to him. The silent tears that ran down his cheeks as he lay in his bed had nothing to do with physical pain.

Kissing Jolyne had been wonderful, a current of pleasure and joy that ran through his whole body. And all at once, the hunger and desire to devour her had awakened within him. He could have bitten her. He had wanted to, while at the same time giving her his blood. He almost did. It was the thought of harming her that had kept him from going insane. What had once been fear of losing her to her family had now become relief at knowing that she would be out of his harm's way. It was better to let her go, no matter how much he would miss her.

When a sudden headache hit him, he thought for a moment that it was a symptom of the cold bath. But then memories that he was not even aware of having lost came flooding back. He found himself remembering the day Rohan Kishibe had left the palazzo.

"So, you want to keep Jolyne safe, but at the same time…" Rohan shook his head slightly, his silver earrings sparkling. "You're lucky I'm a genius."

Giorno deigned to answer him, although he didn't need to. The mangaka didn't seem to need another person to carry on a conversation once he found a sufficiently interesting foothold.

"I was researching Korean and Western sorcery for a season of my manga when I came to realize that the spirits being used are more effective not because of the complexity of the order, but because of its concreteness. Given that your being not quite human makes you resistant to my abilities, I can deal a very specific order," said Rohan as he pulled out an expensive pen from his embroidered jacket pocket. "And I think I have the perfect condition."

"What is it?" asked Giorno, interested for the first time.

"If you knew, Mr. Giovanna, it wouldn't be as effective, so I'm afraid I'll have to make you only remember that I've done something, but not specifically what."

Giorno had thought about it for a few moments. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to give someone that much power, but if it for the sake of Jolyne's safety, it wouldn't be such a bad thing. Besides, even if he did not remember the command, if there was a trail, he would be able to pull the thread. He had counted on GER's power without thinking about how scary Mr. Kishibe's adorable little Stand could be.

"We do it all for our little Jolyne. In the Joestar lineage, she is like a princess. They come from real European nobles, did you know? And what better to protect a princess than a fairy tale. I'm kind of like Jolyne's godmother, so I will act as such." He uncapped the pen and began to move it gracefully as if it were a magic wand. "How about something related to love?"

Heaven's Door appeared, and for the second time, Giorno felt the strange sensation of a part of his body turning into a book. It was disconcerting, but he tried not to let his face reflect any of the anguish he was beginning to feel. The mangaka's green eyes were beginning to look more and more terrifying to him.

"Something simple but very concrete for someone whose very existence is a strange quirk of nature." The pen began to move, and even if Giorno didn't understand the characters, he somehow understood what they said. "May Jolyne's closeness not affect your beastly side until you give your first true love's kiss, and may this not be remembered until then. And now you'll be very grateful to me that you won't be so affected by Jolyne."

The memory passed, and Giorno suddenly felt the desire to strangle Rohan with his bare hands. Knowing that he was being irrational since Rohan had been well-meaning, he tried to calm himself. Even though the mangaka's good intentions were rare and would likely make Giorno want to strangle him again, he was not to blame. After all, he was not the reason Giorno had turned into a monster. His true nature had only been held back until now.

Regaining that missing puzzle piece of a memory should have clicked many things into place, but rather, Giorno found himself with another mystery. Thinking back to his meeting with Dr. Kujo and Weather Report in his office the previous night, there had been a matter that baffled all of them. It was about Donatello's differing reactions to the Joestars' blood.

Giorno could not speak with complete certainty of what had happened between Donatello and Jolyne in the swamp since he himself had only arrived later on, but the late Anasui had apparently witnessed the whole incident, which Weather Report was able to impart to them in return, having learned everything from once seeing Anasui's memory disk. What he related to them was not far at all from what Giorno had imagined happened. Still, he had to thank the noises from Trish and Bruno's fighting outside the door as a welcome interruption, as otherwise, he might have punched his desk right then and there.

The strange part was when Dr. Kujo recounted his own experience with encountering Donatello in addition to Josuke's from years ago on the night of Joseph Joestar's murder. In both incidents, the monster did not have nearly as strong of a reaction to either of their blood. Yes, he had attacked them, but he seemed nowhere near as tormented by them as he had been by Jolyne.

There was something special about her, though they didn't know what.

Giorno knew this couldn't be more true. From the very beginning, there was something he felt only with her, something overwhelming that made him lose his mind.

Now thinking about it, Kishibe had not included any of the other Joestars' names when he had written the immunity command on him with his Stand. Hence, Giorno had been strolling calmly by Mrs. Holly's side all along with no special enchantments. Even his time near Dr. Kujo had been very tame. It was Jolyne, only Jolyne, whose closeness made the beast emerge.

Sleep evaded him for most of the remainder of the night. When he rolled out of his bed the next morning and looked in the mirror, he was greeted with the sight of dark rings under his eyes. Unfortunately, the day had only just begun.

A run-in with Dr. Kujo in the hallway informed him that the man and his daughter would be departing that very afternoon.

Giorno had seen it coming. Had himself advised it even. He thought he was prepared, but his heart still bled with pain. All his power and all his efforts, but still it approached, the time when Jolyne would be away from him again.

She had to have gone to her father for help after last night and informed him that the spell Rohan had casted on him was broken. Giorno didn't know how she had explained it to him, but he suspected that she had not told Dr. Kujo the whole story, since he had not come looking for Giorno to beat him up.

It was better to let her go, no matter how much he would miss her.

Dr. Kujo gave him a quick run through of their family's history of vampire hunting. Giorno was not surprised when Joseph Joestar was mentioned to be a skilled hunter among them. He himself witnessed how the old lord Joestar had injured Donatello with a strange power that seemed to touch outside of the realm of Stand abilities.

This led into the reason for the father and daughter duo's leaving. Jolyne and Dr. Kujo were both in the agreement that she should attempt to learn these vampire hunting techniques. Not everyone was capable, apparently, but if there was a chance that Jolyne was, it would be safer.

Giorno did not try asking Dr. Kujo anything directly, but it did not take long to hear that the staff were packing for Miss Kujo. His offer to host the rest of them while they looked for ways to stop his brothers was still in effect, but it seemed somewhat certain that Jolyne had to go, even more so since the incident from the night before.

He would have to continue to play his role coolly, not letting his emotions show. Although the circ*mstances were different, it all reminded him a bit of the day the capos went to pledge allegiance to him after burying their friends. 15 years old him with the newly acquired Requiem probably looked more powerful than he did now.

He was then informed of the arrival of two new guests. He already knew Rohan Kishibe, of course. Giorno heard that they had almost had to tear him out of the Louvre again to bring him here. As for the other man, he had not seen him in years since their very short encounter. That man was unmistakably a Joestar. He looked very much like Jotaro, although he had a special hairstyle. Giorno didn't know it, but Josuke had made his pompadour much less extreme than it had been years ago.

The outward resemblance between Josuke and Jotaro did not prepare him for how different they were on the inside. Josuke kept chattering and smiling at everyone, barely giving Giorno time to catch Jolyne's scent when Josuke was already running up to her, giving her a hug, and picking her up like a little girl while telling her he loved her hairstyle.

"Gruncle Josuke, I'm glad to see you too, but put me down!" shouted Jolyne, embarrassed.

"It's called karma," said Rohan from behind her, waiting for someone to put his bags down. "I told you that you weren't the most clingy Joestar, but almost."

"Come on Roh, you're exaggerating. Don't you know how long it's been since I saw my little Jolyne?" said Josuke as he let go of her. "You've grown a lot, so I can't call you little JoJo anymore. On top of that, Shizu is shorter than you. Now I should call you..."

"Jolyne is fine."

"Well, Jolyne chan," Josuke replied, ignoring her. "It's a pity you have to leave just when I came to take care of my sisters and your mother. But after those assholes are defeated, you have to come to Morioh!"

"Sure!" she replied cheerfully before her gaze went to Giorno. "I don't think you know Giorno Giovanna."

"Unfortunately, we met under tragic circ*mstances," said Giorno as he extended a hand to Josuke. "It wouldn't hurt to make a proper introduction. I'm Giorno Giovanna."

"Higashikata Josuke, but I think with everything that's going on, you can call me Josuke," he said, shaking his hand a little more forcefully than necessary.

"Likewise, call me Giorno, per favore," said Giorno, undaunted by the force behind the squeeze.

"You can call someone from the service to take my bags," Rohan added in the background.

"Ro-chan!" shouted Holly. "Looks like we're all here; it feels almost like back in Morioh, but with Italian food. It's like even Tonio came." She turned to Giorno. "Tonio is an excellent Italian chef who also has a Stand. Someday you should come to Morioh and meet him."

Before they knew it, half the Joestar clan and those from Florida were at the entrance. Through that sea of people, Giorno and Jolyne's eyes met before looking away, embarrassed.

Deciding that he was left out of the family picture, Giorno retreated toward his office. On the way, he was met by someone he hadn't even thought of.

It was better to let her go, no matter how much he would miss her.

"They're my family, but sometimes, I have a hard time dealing with them all at once," Shizuka said with a sigh as she put on her sunglasses. "It's funny, you know? Our stories are the same but backward. You share some blood with them, but you're not family. I'm family, but I don't have any shared blood. And neither of us are Joestars."

"Well, Miss Joestar... I don't think your family is of the same mind," Giorno answered her in a conciliatory tone, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, they'll deny if for sure, but blood is blood and I don't have it." She shrugged. "It's okay, adoption isn't anything new."

Giorno could have told her many things. Like how often in his childhood, with a mother who neglected him and a stepfather who mistreated him, he dreamed of someone else adopting him. Primarily, his almost fabled father, for example, whom he later discovered was a vampire and was already dead, on top of everything else. He was going to say something about how he himself had forged his family over his blood ties, but the girl spoke first.

"I'm not their blood relative, yeah, but... I still love Jolyne. The Joestars are stronger than you think. That means if you hurt her, I'll join them in hurting you no matter how powerful your Stand is."

Giorno smiled sympathetically at her. "If I hurt Jolyne, hurt me in any way you want. Nothing will be worse than what I do to myself."

Shizuka looked at him for a few seconds with a gaze so intense, it pierced him even through the sunglasses. He felt himself being assessed more harshly than by many experienced mob members.

"Ok, I guess you do really want Jolyne." She adjust her backpack straps on her shoulders. "I'm going to go with her, and for all I know, I'm going to be her roommate during her training. Technically, cell phones are going to be banned, but I guess I can play deaf."

Decidedly, of the Joestars who weren't Jolyne, Giorno had already found his favorite.

He followed her back to the main room. He wanted to say goodbye at the very least, even if it hurt him. On his way out, he found Narancia saying goodbye to everyone, even those he had hardly met, perhaps a little too effusively, while Trish squeezed Jolyne mercilessly, making her promise to return. When Jolyne let go, she hugged Bruno, who reciprocated the gesture with affection. Even Mista patted her on the back and told her to take care of herself. Abbacchio was about to do the same, pretending to be unconcerned, but as he was about to turn around, a tug from Stone Free made him turn around and give her a proper hug. In a whisper, he told her that if she didn't watch out, he would come over in person and kick her ass.

"Be careful," was all Giorno was able to say to her.

"You be careful too," said Jolyne, trying not to blush in front of her whole family.

It was better to let her go, no matter how much he would miss her.

Her eyes lingered. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Dr. Kujo interrupted.

"Shall we go? It's an almost six hours drive," he said.

After a hug from her mom and grandma, Jolyne got into the car. Then, she, her father, Shizuka, and Weather Report departed from the mansion to head to their new destination in search of answers.

Jolyne didn't turn around to look back, afraid of it feeling too much like an actual goodbye. For all she knew, it could be. There was no telling how long she would spend in the mysterious place or when she would come back to Rome for a visit.

Remembering her last moment with Giorno, she couldn't help the regret that tugged at her on how she had left their conversation pending. She knew Bruno and the others would take good care of him, and she had also asked Josuke for help if Giorno wanted to accept it, but that was the extent of what she could do for the time being.

It was very strange to think about the fact that he was not going to be a part of her daily life anymore. Even if she sometimes only saw him for a few seconds a day, the feeling of having him around was constant. At first, it was chills that made her alert, but over time, those became something else that made her heart race in the same way. The casual encounters, those private chats and laughs that had been foreign to both until meeting one another...

She would miss the sound of his laughter, the calm expression on his face, and the one of bewilderment that only she seemed to be able to wring from him. She was going to miss the whole group from Italy, sure, but him? He was different. They had barely left and already she felt as if something was missing. It was strange, like the feeling of having forgotten your phone or your keys, but applied to a person. It was the feeling of leaving behind something she needed.

The irony was that she had felt something similar to this seven years ago, but she was the one left behind while her loved ones moved on to start anew on the other side of the planet. Although she reunited with them and could say a part of her felt whole again, she knew she was not ready to suffer something like that all over again. She might never be. A part of her even wondered if the two situations could really be put on the same level.

As she reflected during the long hours of travel, she began to think that the separation was maybe for the best. Love could be blind. She wasn't entirely sure if that was what she felt for Giorno, for she had been mistaken once before. The consequence of that stupidity had led to her incarceration only a year ago. She was free of the prison now, and once all the vampire business was taken care of, she could start anew. If they decided to pick up where they had left off the previous night, a relationship between the two would not be easy. That is if their feelings even remained the same after all the time spent away from one another. If what was between her and Giorno was just a spur of the moment, it would cool in that time. If not, the distance would help them both understand their feelings in a new perspective.

Her mind couldn't help but wander back to the kiss from the night before. One she had never experienced anything like with someone else before. She wondered if it was even possible to forget something like that. The distance was for the best…Yes.

Seeing her own blush in the window's reflection, Jolyne suspected that Shizuka, her self-appointed protector, had noticed as well, for she suddenly began talking about a thousand superficial things to keep her entertained. Thanks to her, the trip was made more enjoyable for her, as Weather and her dad were not great conversationalists and she knew that she would have irretrievably sunk into her thoughts.

Eventually, they finally arrived at the beautiful but crowded renaissance streets of Venice.

"Hey, what kind of training am I going to have here in Venice?" Jolyne said, standing at the quay in front of the palazzo ducale. "This place is full of tourists."

"Joestars," said a little old lady behind them. "Even barring the physical resemblance, those words are from a Joestar."

"Excuse me, ma'am, are you the one who is going to guide us to the site? No offense, but our enemies are too dangerous for a lady of your age," said Jolyne, crouching down. "Someone younger should have come. It's dangerous..."

Jolyne hadn't finished her words before a strange golden glow enveloped her and the old woman threw her with a skillful and fluid movement to the ground. As she fell, she realized that she had some sort of muzzle on her face.

"Jolyne Kujo, this will not be your destination, but a nearby island. Welcome to Air Suplena Island. Allow me to introduce myself," the old woman said. "My name is Lisa Lisa, and I will be your Hamon instructor."

Chapter 33: Bleed It Out

Chapter Text

Jolyne felt like she was drowning. The damn muzzle was taking her breath away, but the old woman called Lisa Lisa had told her to regulate it. Meanwhile, she couldn't stop thinking about how wrong it was to beat an old woman up.

While they caught a boat, her father didn't seem to be surprised by anything that had happened; not the blow, or the muzzle, or anything. In principle, that told her that she should trust the situation, although her father was not a guarantee of anything. He was not a very expressive person, but at least he protected her from the danger.

Feeling stupid with the muzzle, a tingle ran through her body. At the same time, she felt angry that the old woman seemed so proud of herself. Shizuka had not stopped protesting on her behalf, but no one paid any attention to her. The rest of the world seemed calm about it. She tried to ensnare the old woman with her strings in an act of desperation, but out of nowhere, she got a cramp. She decided that she would be quiet, at least for the time being.

"Ma'am, we were waiting for you. It's dangerous for you to go out alone," a young blond boy of about 14 said to them when they arrived.

"Iulius, attend to the two young ladies while I talk to the older ones," the old woman said. "Bring them to my quarters in an hour."

"I'm not going where you want me to go, old woman!" replied Shizuka indignantly. "And I'm certainly not going with this pizza-faced Italian kid!"

"Excusi? Madam, do I really have to take care of this insolent little dwarf? It's not a problem to take the beautiful lady, however." He winked at Jolyne, whose grimace was barely visible under the muzzle. "But the girl? Per favore, signora, I think a babysitter would be better."

The old woman gave him a long look before sighing. Smiling, she shook her head and left with Jotaro for what Jolyne assumed were her chambers.

Hearing Shizu and the other teenager bicker made her focus a little. She couldn't behave just like them; she was an adult. Although, that didn't mean she wasn't going to knock the boy into the water with her Stand in one blow if he dared to lay a hand on Shizu.

Despite being an adult, she was being treated like a child. She was made to stand aside while the other adults talked. She expected that from her father, but not Weather Report, who had silently stalked off somewhere else on the island rather than going to the quarters. She had been kind of like the leader of their group in Florida (although it was an improvement for everyone, as the previous one had been a 12-year-old before) and had become part of the group in Rome, who didn't have a command, and now she was just going to be someone who waited for her father's orders. f*ck that, she was going to go now before she was sent for.

"Hey, Jules," said Jolyne, ignoring the 'my name is Iulius' protest. "Take us to the old woman's room."

"I'm afraid I can't do that until the lady's meeting with Dr. Kujo is over."

"Of course, you can't," said Shizuka in a mocking tone. "You're a little boy obeying his granny."

"She's not my granny! She's a wonderful woman," he replied irritably. "You know what? Maybe I should take you and let her punish you herself."

It didn't take them long to arrive and Jolyne was grateful because Shizu and Iulius wouldn't stop fighting all the way.

"I don't plan to apologize," said Jolyne, walking in without knocking. "I'm an adult and..." She stopped to gasp for breath because of the muzzle. "I deserve to be included in every meeting."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to have brought them, but..." Iulius began.

"Strange, the little boy is starting to blame others," Shizuka said with a scoff.

Iulus opened his mouth to rebut, but the old lady suddenly snapped.

"Enough!" She elegantly smoked in a manner reminiscent of the golden age of Hollywood; despite her age, the beauty and class she had possessed years before still showed on her face. "Jolyne is right about one thing. Even though she's going to be my student, I should have included her." She smiled as she looked at the younger ones. "And you... It's like reliving the past. Why don't you introduce yourselves properly? Iulus, you already know she's Shizuka Joestar, but you haven't told her your name."

"Yes, ma'am." The boy shifted his posture. "Our families have supposedly been linked for generations as Hamon practitioners. My name is Iulius Cesar Antonio Zeppeli."

"Girl, knowing your father, I should have guessed that this rivalry would happen," the old woman said quietly.

"You knew my father, oba-san?" Shizuka asked.

"Of course," the old woman told her. "The way you called me is correct, child. Your father was my son. My name is Elizabeth Joestar."

In all fairness, Jolyne hadn't known of any Joestars other than the ones she met in the New York manor before Joseph's death. The fact that her long lost hundred year old relative was running a mysterious island that taught a secret technique to defend the world from vampires would have been quite a shock to her a few months ago. Now it seemed reasonable to her. Her great-grandpa and his own grandpa had hunted vampires using a special technique, so why wouldn't her great-grandpa's mother be in on it? She may be over a hundred years old, but well, they did also mention that Hamon extended life. Her own body was made strings, so who was she to question it?

"You may be of my blood, but that's not going to make me more lenient with you in your training. I showed no leniency toward Joseph either," she said to her before turning to Shizuka with a smile. "With you I will be more considerate; after all, you are a child. You will enter the training program with the other juniors. Besides, you're not the main target of an obsessive vampire. It wouldn't hurt to learn, but you don't have to put your life on the line."

If Jolyne had expected any grandmotherly affection from Master Lisa Lisa, which is what she had instructed her to call her, she would have been disappointed.

Being used to Bruno's training, Jolyne thought it was going to be easy. After the first day, however, she realized that that wasn't the case. As soon as she was able to manifest some Hamon, her teacher called another of the older Zeppeli to start the training. That same night as she crawled into bed, Shizu shared with her what Iulius had told her. Apparently, his great uncle from whom he had inherited the name Caesar Antony had died helping her father, Joseph. A Zeppeli had also taught Hamon to stop the threat of Dio Brando.

Okay, Jolyne thought, that hadn't worked out so well for them but she supposed their sacrifices were commendable.

Even though she was Mrs. Lisa Lisa's great-great-granddaughter, apparently, the old woman wasn't going to treat her any less rudely than the other students. Although, Jolyne supposed she should be grateful she wasn't sent to climb some kind of pillar that day. Nonetheless, she was still made to run and swim until dinnertime. Jolyne came to think that the old woman's plans were to kill her before Donatello got to her. Luckily, the one who was to be her personal instructor finally gave her the order to go take a shower.

After taking a brief rest on her bed, she opened her suitcase to find something to change into. On top of her clothes were three flowers she didn't hadn't remembered packing. Curious, she took them out, only for them to suddenly transform into three books. Even without looking at the Italian titles, the covers were very recognizable. It was the Twilight series.

She couldn't help but hug the first book with a smile. The circ*mstance was supposed to help her not think about Giorno for a season, but these gifts were going to make it very difficult. As she skimmed through the pages of one book, she noticed that there were underlined sections. They talked about love, and some were particularly cheesy. When she checked the other books, she realized that all three were like this. Giorno had not done this only the night before; it had taken him time.

Typical Giorno. No letter or even a few words, just a convoluted act.

She didn't have time to get carried away with memories or nostalgia, however. Only a day ago she was still in Rome, or maybe not even. After showering, she ate dinner and tried to sleep, only to wake up with the worst stiffness she had ever experience in her life.

It didn't help that they woke her up before five in the morning so that Mrs. Lisa Lisa could explain to her how to breathe in the sun. It was kind of like a yoga class; it wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for her exhaustion.

Despite the feelings she was discovering for Giorno, for the rest of the day, she found herself missing Bruno more. Specifically, Bruno the trainer. Despite being an assassin, he hadn't seemed to want to kill her like the old psycho at least. Surely, it was the poison in the old woman's blood that had allowed her age over a hundred years old so well. Sometimes, Jolyne would meet Shizuka, who despite the hard training, seemed to have the strength to shout at that Iulius guy. The first hellish week passed before she was thrown to the bottom of a huge pillar and instructed to climb up with Hamon.

The pillar was made to detect anything that wasn't Hamon, so if she wanted to cheat, she would have to learn to drive the Hamon properly through her body. She would need to completely fill her string with Hamon if she unwounded herself to reach all the way up, but it would leave her out of energy in seconds. Hence, she had to learn the hard way to channel it. At least if she wanted to get out of the bottom of that well in less than a day.

Apparently, that great achievement was nothing to the harpy she was related to, for with a smile, she told Jolyne that it was only the beginning and now her training was really going to intensify training to suit the warrior lineage she came from. That wasn't without its amusem*nt, considering that she had seen her dad swim during her training, but he seemed to be making a study of the island's marine fauna more than exercising. She couldn't blame him though, not when Jotaro Kujo needed too much exercise when he had Star Platinum, as super-powerful Stand.

Without meaning to, Jolyne thought of Giorno again. Every night, no matter how exhausted she was, she read a bit of the books. Although Giorno had never read anything to her, it was all narrated in his voice in her mind.

She thought about sending him a message since she had her phone with her. Trish texted her daily and even Ermes and her mother kept calling her every night. But communicating with Giorno after their last night was... What would she tell him?

Weather Report was not training Hamon, but he was also meditating. It brought peace to his otherwise combustive mind. Having been allowed to slip away a while earlier, she saw only him in the area. The sound of the sea and Iulius' distant screams at Shizuka's latest trick was all that could be heard.

"How are you doing on the island?" she asked him, knowing that at best he would answer with a shrug.

She knew that, in part, talking to Weather was a bit like talking out loud to yourself, so maybe he was just the person she needed at that moment.

"Can I tell you something?" she said. When she saw no change, she continued onward. "I've met someone special. Well, actually, a lot of people; this country is full of special people. But I mean, like... You know, as in special romantically speaking. But maybe he's the worst bet of all the people I could have noticed, which is saying something considering my history with bad crows. It's just like a big no.

"But... I've never felt like this to such a level for anyone before, and he respects me and cares for me like no one else. When I'm with him, all the inconveniences and no's are erased from my head..." Jolyne sat down next to Weather Report, who looked at her, making it clear that he was attentive to her words. "But in our last conversation... It all became too real. On top of that, I had to leave. And now I don't know what to say to him."

Jolyne hugged her knees and dipped her head in frustration. That's when Weather leaned in close to whisper in her ear, "Then tell him the truth."

Sure, the truth was best, but what was the truth?

Jolyne went back to her room to freshen up. After exiting the shower, she looked through her phone. There was a stack of pictures from Trish, who had taken Ermes, F.F., her mom, and her grandma shopping. She couldn't help a slight feeling of envy; she would have liked to have been there with them.

Feeling tired, she thought she would fall asleep as soon as she fell into bed after dinner as she did every night, but she couldn't stop thinking about Weather Report's words. He was right. She just had to tell him the truth, whatever it may be.

By that time, it was after midnight. She would have to get up early the next morning before f*cking 5 AM again. Maybe Giorno was already asleep. Better that he was so that he wouldn't answer the message yet.

She opened her chat with Giorno. There were only photos from their date that she had sent to him at his request. It was strange that she hadn't written a single word to him yet, so she started to type the first ones.

'I miss you' she wrote and hit the send button. But then thinking better of it, she panicked. She wanted to delete it, but she couldn't since it had already been sent.

But she really missed him. And still, she felt that she should tell him something else, especially since she had run away from him like that. She typed again, "Yeah, I miss you, Punzie."

She knew he wasn't going to answer her. Out of boredom, she opened Facebook, which she had been avoiding since she arrived. She'd missed quite a few birthdays and other events, but her private message inbox was overflowing; most were from the same person, Romeo. A few months ago, receiving messages from him would have made her pulse race, but now she only rolled her eyes in annoyance. Still, she was curious about what he had to say. Skimming through the messages, she gleaned that he had found out she was no longer in jail because, in a fit of conscience, he went to visit her and discovered that she was gone.

She scrolled quickly through the heartfelt, guilt-ridden messages, having no intention to answer any of them. He didn't deserve it. Then she remembered how he would purposely make her feel insecure with other women, ones with more bountiful breasts or anything he might consider superior.

Why not answer him? She was over it and not just because of the betrayal. She would have moved on from him even if she hadn't gotten to know a certain someone. When thinking about how Romeo had liked to brag about his physique and his money, she knew he would have raged if he met Giorno.

She started to look in her phone's photo gallery and found the pictures from the date with Giorno in Rome. Although Giorno had a more casual attire, it was obvious that his clothes were expensive. In one of the photos with the Colosseum of Rome behind them, while she was smiling at the camera, Giorno was looking at her while holding his arm protectively over her shoulder. You had to be an idiot not to understand what the look he was giving her meant. Jolyne bit her lip, thinking for a moment about sending another message to Giorno, almost forgetting what she was doing.

She sent the photo, followed by a very clear message. "I've turned over a new page, and this page is much sexier. If I see you again, I'll break your nose, you dirty, lying bastard."

Not long after, she saw the sign for when someone was replying. She blocked him without hesitation. Feeling much happier, she was ready to sleep.

On the other side of the world, six time zones away, a blond, somewhat drunk man watched as his ex blocked him after sending him a photo of her with another man.

"f*ck, this is perfect. Just the sh*t I needed right now. That selfish bitch ignores and blocks me after she finds another guy," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

The bartender ignored him. For only $20, he was already doing enough by turning a blind eye to the fact that he was a minor. He was fed up with brats, so he went on with his work quietly, leaving the boy to talk to himself.

"She really sent me a picture of her with another guy, the bitch," Romeo said, not realizing the bartender was ignoring him. "First my dad punishes me by cutting my allowance and threatening to take away my credit cards, now this. Worst week ever."

"Sounds like a really sh*tty situation," said a man, taking a seat at the bar. "And here I thought I'd had a bad week. Mind if I sit with you?"

Romeo shook his head, hungry for approval.

"So your ex-girlfriend sent you a picture with someone else? You can't trust any of them, buddy."

"I don't know, Jolyne adored me, you know? She treated me the way I deserve, even if she was a bit pathetic sometimes. And now she dumps me over a Facebook message. She won't even call me."

Romeo took to unloading insults and booze down his throat as he spoke to the stranger. The man was a nice guy who understood him perfectly. He knew Romeo was right and supported him.

"You know what I would do? You say she's in Italy. Well, I'd go to Rome and persuade her to come back with me. Then if you want, you could dump her ass afterward. But who does she think she is to leave you?"

"Hey, you're right! It's spring break soon and instead of going to one of those fancy parties every year, I'll tell my old man that I'm going to do something cultural by going to a museum. There must be museums in Rome."

"Sure there are, bud. Go show her who's boss."

"Yeah, I’ll show her. I think that's what I'm going to do. Thanks, I needed someone to listen to me," Romeo said as he finished another beer. "You haven't told me your name."

"Oh, that's weird. How could I forget?" The man held out his hand as his cold blue eyes glistened from something other than alcohol. "My name is Donatello."

Chapter 34: The Silent

Chapter Text

The palazzo was full of people, much more so than it had been a few days ago, but nevertheless, for Giorno, a thunderous silence had formed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Maybe being alone with one's thoughts wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it was when they were like Giorno's.

His quarters were in an area of the Palazzo where there was no one else. Only Jolyne had been closeby. Lying in his bed with the darkness that was not quite there because of his dhampire powers around him, he would not stop thinking that it was impossible to be able to taste the silence in the air, the difference between when she was several doors away sleeping peacefully. And yet he would feel it buzzing in his head, all around him, like an insistent mosquito on a summer night.

Every day since she had left, he had heard about her. It wasn't as if she was locked up and incommunicado, it was just that she was being intensively trained. Trish kept communicating with him and telling Giorno what she was doing, plus the other women and Emporio were not discreet in their conversations about her. Jolyne was fine and talked daily with people who loved her and never put her in danger.

With people who were not like him.

Maybe Rohan Kishibe would have rolled his eyes and said he needed to think of something else as a condition to activate the immunity command on him with his Stand again.

"I can't always be dependent on his powers. I must learn to control this for the sake of..."

He didn't give himself time to continue as he noticed the green judgemental gaze that Rohan was directing at him so heavily; it was noticeable even without him saying anything.

"I understand that there are a number of convulsive feelings for Jolyne that need to be sorted out, but we can't forget that under your roof you have Mrs. Holly and Josuke. Let's be clear, bite Josuke, and the next thing I'll be writing is a command for your Stand to rip your own heart out."

If there was one thing Giorno liked about Rohan, it was that he never threatened in vain, only warned of what he was prepared to do. Likewise, after talking it over at length, Josuke volunteered to stand before Giorno to see if he could stand before him while retaining as much sanity as possible. To everyone's surprise, they made a discovery: Josuke did not affect him in the same way. Bruno and Abbacchio, who had gone to help in case Giorno felt overwhelmed, joined the small group of theorists.

"Maybe it's the fact that she's a woman," suggested Bruno.

"Yeah, what if it's about being able to see yourself attracted to her?" asked Josuke.

"Why should that matter?" a genuinely intrigued Rohan asked.

Bruno noticed that sitting in front were Rohan dressed in pink, Abbacchio next to him in purple and then Giorno in blue. They had unwittingly formed the bisexual flag by being bisexual themselves. He unintentionally let out a laugh, for which he soon apologized.

"Ok, the attraction thing isn't it. But what about love?” Josuke proposed.

"No, it happened from the first moment I was near her. I assure you that at the time, I only saw her as a problem." Giorno wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Besides, Donatello has the same thing going on and that monster isn't capable of loving anyone."

They all stopped to think some more, though they were truly at a loss as to why.

"Let's review what we know about vampires," proposed Rohan. "We know they're not exactly like the creatures popularized by Bram Stoker... Come to think of it, he published Dracula in 1897 and Dio appeared as a vampire in 1888, so do you think he knew him? Although, Polidori had already written The Vampire and Le Fanu Carmilla..."

"Roh, babe, you know I love the way you tell stories, but we're not talking about literature," Josuke said.

"Right. Vampires, what do we know?" After saying this, instead of looking at the half-vampire, Rohan looked at Abbacchio.

"Sure, look at the goth," Abbacchio complained. "Although, come to think of it, vampires are supposed to have a strong fetish for virgins. I mean, really, virginity is a social construct to oppress women. But if it's the case that Jolyne is a virgin, I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence by saying 'pure', but 'virgin'."

"Actually, that makes sense." Rohan rested his chin gracefully on his fingers. "What you're supposed to feel when you repress it is an incredible desire for possession and urgency to make them yours. I'm not going to get into the debate of whether virginity is a social concept or not while I have a half-vampire in front of me, but that would explain a lot about the difference in reaction toward Seiko, Jotaro, Josuke, and Jolyne. So a good idea would be to put an end to that inconvenience as soon as possible."

"Well, Jolyne is a pretty girl," began Josuke, slightly embarrassed. "And there are quite a few attractive and nice people in the Speedwagon Foundation who would be willing... Well, maybe not, they're afraid of Jotaro."

"If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to," said Giorno, suddenly getting up. It wasn't entirely untrue, but that wasn't why he was in such a sudden hurry. "Have a pleasant day."

As Giorno walked out the door, he caught the mangaka scolding his boyfriend in Japanese.

It was not an idiotic theory. He had fallen in love with her for more reasons than that, sure, but he didn't doubt that the unleashed hunger it was causing him was because of that. But if it was true, he knew that the way to get Jolyne safely was for her to make love to someone and that, right now, was something he was having a hard time digesting.

A part of his mind, the same part that had made him put the silver mirror on his dresser, told him that this was the best thing that could happen to Jolyne. To get away from him, maybe meet someone who would be good to her and who deserved her. He might love her in a way he hadn't thought possible until he met her, but loving someone and being worthy of that person were two very different things. He would do anything for her, but nothing could change the fact that he was the son of a monster and a monster himself. His very birth had been an aberration, his existence a blasphemy.

It wasn't only his nature that had made him a monster. Before he was a monster, he was already in the mafia, and unlike the rest of his conseglieri, he was the one who had chosen this from the very beginning. To leave the organization now would be to throw everything into chaos, for much of his power was based on the fear he himself inspired in others, and that was not the only problem. His record was full of blood; there was no way to erase that. Most of them deserved it, although not much more than he did, but there was always collateral damage that he could not compensate for no matter how hard he tried. He could not deny either that he enjoyed all that power. It had not been torture to have the whole mob at his feet; he had enjoyed seeing all those monsters kneeling before him, the most powerful monster.

He knew Jolyne wasn't perfect, but she was far from being a monster like him. His desire to be understood would cause him to drag her further into a dark and murky world. It wasn't something he wanted for the one he loved. Jolyne may think of herself as some sort of delinquent because of her record before she entered prison, but compared to what he had done, that was little more than the act of a child playing at rebelling. He knew she didn't have clean hands either, but she had only ever been trying to save herself and her loved ones. He had ordered so many people killed that even if he made an effort, he couldn't remember all the deaths.

Since he loved her, he had to let her go. It was simple to say. He didn't want to be like Donatello at all. The simplest thing was often the hardest thing to do and that was certainly one of those times. It was going to hurt to the point of feeling his heart bleed. Already he was starting to find it hard to breathe. He knew he was not going to be able to continue working.

He went straight to his rooms again, clenching his fists and digging his nails in until he started to make small bloody wounds. The people who met him on the way knew it was best to avoid him that day. He didn't need to say it; his aura made it all clear. It wasn't the time to talk to him.

When he got to his rooms, the light was still shining outside. He quickly closed the curtains, plunging the room into darkness. If he could, he would have taken a few sleeping pills and slept until the next day, but his damned vampire blood made it very difficult.

He couldn't even resort to narcotics to rest; he only had the silence outside and the storm inside his head. He thought about putting on some music, a movie, anything, but suddenly found himself unable to make his way to the couch where he had sat with Jolyne, the place where he had kissed her. Instead, he touched the sofa and turned it into hundreds of green butterflies. They stayed there, forming chaos around the room and repented in the act of not having been created as a poisonous animal.

Entering the dressing room, he remembered the mirror. The mirror that was there to reveal to him the distorted image of a human that he was. The butterflies made no noise and the silence was still thunderous; everything in him told him what it was. A monster, not a human. He was not a person and did not deserve to be treated as such.

Monsters didn't deserve to live. The Joestar family had suffered so much at the hands of monsters, and here he was, wanting to take the last of them. His fingernails grew without thought as his aquamarine eyes turned red. He wrapped his arms around himself, digging his claws through the fabric, tearing his jacket, his shirt, and his own skin. The silent gaze of his Stand appeared behind him, being excessively powerful but unable to heal his master if he did not want to, as was the case. Blood began to drip uncontrollably; his claws could be very sharp and even reach the bone.

For some reason, he remembered Jolyne's reflection in that mirror, her face exasperated and worried about him, despite having seen his distorted reflection.

"You're not a f*cking monster," she had said.

The silence and his inner chaos suddenly ended. First, it was only the memory of the phrase from her, then he dared to say it out loud. He wasn't a monster; well, maybe there was the vampire thing, but he wasn't a monster. He was a person.

A golden glow took hold of his arms. He took off his tattered, stained shirt before searching for another. He couldn't engage in self-deprecation with so many things to do.

He went out into the main room and it wasn't long before he found a random heavy award from one of the organizations he supported. It weighed enough to shatter the mirror. He didn't deserve Jolyne, of course, but perhaps he could do something to at least be less undeserving. She might not even think of him anymore, as she hadn't contacted him. Maybe so, and maybe that was for the best, but that didn't mean he didn't want to try to push away some of the darkness that surrounded him.

The mirror exploded into thousands of tiny crystals with just one blow. One shard made a slight cut on his cheek, but he didn't even heal it. It had been cathartic.

He left the room without thinking too much about anything, though when he found one of the servants, he asked them to pick up the glass and repair the mirror by putting a new one in that frame. And that he was going to need a new sofa. Maybe asking that of someone with his cheek covered in his own blood wouldn't help to reassure the people serving him, but he was focused on getting back to his office, to the place where he worked.

It was upon arrival that he realized he didn't know how to begin to change.

He was not surprised to hear footsteps on the other side of the door, what with the little number he had done with the butterflies. Maybe Bruno was already waiting with one of his speeches. But then inhaling the air, he realized it couldn't be him. Even though it wasn't like Jolyne's, the smell of the Joestar was quite distinctive. Josuke.

The man was not long in knocking and Giorno realized with embarrassment that he was a bloodstained mess and surely his face reflected his state of anxiety, but still, he let him in.

"Oh, buddy, did you hurt yourself?" he asked him with real concern in his huge blue eyes. It seemed almost impossible that someone would be worried about him like that while barely knowing him, but there was no trace of a lie on that face.

He knew Josuke's powers had to do with healing, so when he saw his Stand manifest, he expected some stinging, but to his surprise, all he felt was the searing pain of the cut ceasing to exist.

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Jolyne asked me to keep an eye on you, and in the event that you agreed... You see, I'm a therapist, and I'm going to be here for a while."

The words about needing therapy had not been an insult. She really cared about him and wanted to help him. Even so far away, Jolyne was able to warm his heart in the darkest moments.

"Okay."

"We can start whenever you want," Josuke said. "After all, I'm here doing nothing. It’s not like you have to make an appointment."

"Could it be now?" said Giorno, feeling a bit bad about the rush and knowing he seemed a bit desperate.

"Of course," he answered him kindly as he sat down and asked him for a pen and paper. "Asking for help in the middle of a crisis is the right thing to do. You’re going to do fine, GioGio. Do you mind if I call you that?"

"Only if you don't mind me calling you JoJo," Giorno replied, feeling a little better.

"Well, considering one of my sisters, Jotaro, and Jolyne are also called that, it can be confusing. You can do it, but I don't recommend it," he said with a smile. "It usually works out when the closest person talks. We are always someone's JoJo... And your JoJo is younger and more attractive than me."

They talked for more than two hours. Josuke intervened less and less and did not judge anything he heard, listening attentively to everything he said. Giorno knew that he had not overcome anything, but it was as if he had opened a door and let in some air and light for the first time in closed places.

Bruno brought him some dinner, which he hardly felt, and found that the room was already tidied up when he returned, although there were a few butterflies still hiding in the corners. Giorno opened the windows. It was already dark; the butterflies soon came out and merged with the night sky. Perhaps it was time for a new beginning, he said to himself, mentally exhausted but more satisfied. Maybe he could still do some good.

And his phone rang with the special tone for Jolyne's messages. 'I miss you' hit him, making his mind fly, thinking about a lot of different things. Maybe Josuke had called her and she had left him that simple token of affection to reward him and it didn't really mean anything. Anyone could send a message like that.

Then the phone rang again, as if she knew he needed her. She sent something that was undoubtedly something that was uniquely hers. 'Yeah, I miss you, Punzie.'

He didn't know what to say back, so he looked at the printed pictures next to him.

Hope had always been something Giorno had been afraid of, but tonight he didn't mind having it.

Chapter 35: Two Stars

Chapter Text

The first time Jolyne was told that she had to jump into the sea for a swim at that time of year, she thought they were joking even though she had not even been out of the Pillar of Hell for a day. What kind of monster would throw someone in the spring into the icy waters next to Venice? Of course, Lisa Lisa was that kind of monster. At first, Jolyne had been terrified to go swimming through those deep dark waters. Later, she realized that if she got tired in the water at least they would pull her out so she wouldn't drown. On land they had no mercy whatsoever.

Her routine was filled with strenuous exercises, meditation, resting just enough to be able to move with Shizuka, eating, exchanging a couple of messages with the people at the palazzo—now also with Giorno—and sleeping. She could not complain, as she noticed how she was really improving. She went from barely being able to make a few sparks to conducting energy all throughout her body.

For a while, she felt that the Hamon energy reminded her of something; it gave her a warm feeling, something pleasant, but after all, it was the energy of life. And one day when she attracted some curious insects with it, she realized what else it reminded her of. It was like the pure energy of Gold Experience. It made her want to shout to Hell at Dio to f*ck off, that despite everything his son had done, he was still a carrier of pure life energy. But under Lisa Lisa's watchful eye, there was no time for something like romance, so she didn't even have time to wonder if it would be possible to develop her situation with Giorno, because if the old witch caught her distracted, she wouldn't take long to invent a new form of torture for her.

That was how swimming days had become Jolyne's favorite days, by default next to the rest of the days. However, she did not appreciate the ones where she held weight while balancing and meditating on top of a column. She knew that the rest of the students on the island worked hard too, but it was as if being Lisa Lisa's relative gave her carte blanche to be more demanding than anyone else instead of giving her some kind of advantage.

They wouldn't even let her swim in swimwear, only in the clothes she trained in. Regular clothes were more resistant to water and made it more difficult to move in and, above all, harder to get out of the water. But her training wasn't about her own ease of comfort after all.

She was waiting on the dock of the island to jump into the water when she caught sight of her dad.

He may have been a difficult person to read, but she had gotten a little better at it recently. Since he had arrived, he made a point of at least having breakfast, lunch, or dinner with her (sometimes even more than one, and a couple of times, all three) and making small talk. It didn't slip Jolyne's notice how he was genuinely trying to get close to her. She was touched to the core and appreciated it.

So when he finally walked up to her and they stood face to face, she noticed that something was wrong even before he opened his mouth.

"I just got word about our enemies' whereabouts," he said. "They've found clues that give us reason to believe that one of them is already in Italy. Rumors about Naples have surfaced too. Donatello is there."

Jolyne's stomach flipped. She suddenly had the urge to throw up.

There was no way she could continue on with her daily training now. Seeing as her dad himself came to tell her this, she felt that it must be a sign that he wanted her help.

"Oh, uh, I'll change in a moment," she managed to say. "When do we leave? Have you called Giorno yet?"

"I just called Giovanna, and he says he's already on his way to Naples. He seems extremely angry. It's his home after all." Jotaro seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her face reading ability alerted her again. "Unfortunately, you won't be coming. Weather Report and I will be going alone."

"What? But why? I've been training for something like this."

At her look of betrayal, Jotaro remained firm. "It's already been decided you'll stay here. Bringing you along would be putting you in danger."

"Then what was the point of all of this?" she said, forming a spark around her fingers. It's not like she was particularly eager to meet that murderous bastard face to face, but what had all that grueling training and the strict routine been for if it ultimately led her to still be excluded?

"Listen Jolyne." Her dad put one of his big hands on her shoulder. "Wherever you go, Donatello will always go after you first. In fact, he's probably tracking you as of this moment. Wouldn't we be the biggest idiots if we gave him what he wanted by delivering you right to his door?"

There was a crack in her dad's cool expression. She knew he was as disturbed as she was by the image.

"Giovanna can negate his ability, Weather can hold his own too, and I have Star Platinum. I have no doubt that you could also hold your own against him, but I'm worried that I myself won't be able to concentrate in battle if I know he can hurt you."

There were a dozen retorts at the tip of her tongue, but remembering Laocante's statue, Jolyne swallowed them down.

It's not that staying on the sidelines was to her liking, but it was very different doing it because your father loves you so much that he can't even think about putting you in danger than doing it because you're not wanted.

Jotaro had only come to inform her of the new information because he was leaving shortly after. After a quick hug, something that still felt unusual to her, he was on his way.

Jolyne stared at the water. As the warmth from her dad's hug faded, she suddenly shivered. The weather wasn't even cold, and the sky was a bright blue.

Having lost all mood to go swimming, she turned away and headed to the interior of the island, that old witch's consequences be damned.

In the end, it wasn't just her who was out of it. It seemed that the news had spread fast because everybody else was too nervous to train. She heard small buzzes of conversation from the training ground as she passed by. A couple of younger disciples that ran by shot her strange looks on their way. They must have known about her connection to the vampires everyone was talking about.

The island's entire atmosphere was drastically different from what she had witnessed when she first arrived. Tensed rather than relaxed and peaceful. Had news of just one vampire really done this? Even if most of the Hamon users had never even crossed paths with a vampire before, they had to have trained their whole lives to deal with them.

'But Donatello is not a full-fledged vampire,' she reminded herself.

Being a dhampir meant he was weaker than a vampire, though it also meant that he could walk around in broad daylight and Hamon was less effective against him. She could imagine their anxiety, knowing that their enemy was also a very powerful stand user.

Hence, she was not surprised when Lisa Lisa cancelled the training for that day, sending almost everybody to meditate. It was too early for Jolyne to celebrate, however, because 'everyone' did not include herself. She could only console herself with the fact that Shizuka had been summoned by the old woman as well.

Together, they went to the balcony where the old woman usually watched the training sessions. They went every day to receive orders, but that day, they found a tea service for three people awaiting them at the round, light brown wooden table.

"Come, sit down," the old woman said to them. "I know that you're training to be warriors, but everything has a limit, and today you need to stop. So come. We haven't treated each other even though we are family."

Lisa Lisa was more than a hundred years old, but she didn't look too fragile. Some days, Jolyne wondered if she just was an imposter all along. However, there was something in the smile she presented to them as they sat down that undoubtedly reminded her of Joseph.

"Holly told me you like chocolate chip cookies," she said, "so I had them bring you some. I hope she was right. She likes them too and tends to mess things up, which is normal considering who her parents are."

"Why didn't I know you were alive until now?" Jolyne demanded.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Shizuka shoot her a look. Perhaps the news had made her nerves high strung, but this question was something that had been lingering on Jolyne's mind since the day she found out. She just couldn't make heads or tails of it no matter how much she thought about it.

Lisa Lisa didn't seem offended by her tone.

"My dear, if they didn't want you to know anything about Stands, would you say it would be a good idea to tell you that you come from a line of vampire hunters?"

She put a few cookies on a plate and pushed it toward Jolyne.

"If you ask me," she continued, "I think they were overdramatic. It would have been better if they sent you to me. I would have shaped you into a warrior. But it wasn't meant to be because they decided to force you into a peaceful destiny. We Joestars… we're not meant for everlasting peace. I tried to keep my son away from conflict, yet he came back chased by three Pillar Men. Since you happen to share his blood, it's best to be prepared. My son made that mistake with his daughter, and his grandson repeated it with you."

"Dad did it for my sake," Jolyne said, for some reason feeling the need to defend him. "If this is what he was trying to keep me from, I understand…"

There was once a time when she doubted if her dad even loved her. She knew the truth of the matter now, of course. She needed no further proof than the love and concern in her dad's gaze whenever he looked at her during their mealtimes together. But thinking back to that time following his divorce and her clan's separation, she felt a numb feeling in her chest.

"I know why he did it," Jolyne said, "but it's not like life's been easy without him either. I don't know... I just think growing up with him would have helped."

Jolyne immediately began to regret talking when she remembered that the old woman was one of the most hard-hearted people she knew.

"Hey, just imagine," Shizuka said, "Jotaro would have beaten up that boyfriend of yours who put you in jail."

"I heard something about that. If you want advice from an old woman..." Lisa Lisa smiled slightly. "I've been married twice, and I can assure you that I've done stupid things for love. One of them was assassinating a high commander of the army of England without making sure I wouldn't be discovered." The two girls looked at her dumbfounded. "He was a vampire and he killed George, my husband. If you want, I can be your coach in matters of love too."

Jolyne felt the other two's gazes on her and decided she had to get the attention off her. "No one's ever told me about George Joestar. What was he like?"

"Handsome, big, and a bit of dork," Lisa Lisa said with her voice filled with nostalgia. "My Joseph looked a lot like him, and apparently George looked like his father, according to Erina's pictures... All Joestar men look alike, I guess, at least physically. George and I grew up together until I went to study Hamon with my father... Straizo. Gosh, my dad is quite a story, but that's for another day.

"I remember being a short, stuttering kid who always had to defend him from the other kids. I remember thinking that no one would defend him when I wasn't around… And when I came back from Tibet, I found a grown-up Joestar. I was young and he was absolutely charming, with the personality of a golden retriever. He had been raised to be a gentleman and was terribly handsome. He said he had been a bit in love with me since we were children and seeing me again made him fall completely at my feet. Who was I to be able to resist such a man?"

"Mom always says that about dad," replied Shizuka with a nostalgic smile.

"Yes, my Joseph was a bit like his father, although Joseph was even less serious. People even thought he was an idiot because he tended to look like a clown, but really, he did it to distract everyone. Once, during his training, he threw punches in the air, saying weird things about saving some girl. While we were approaching to see what he was doing, he managed to make his instructor fall to the ground. I'm having trouble recalling, but he may have also done something to Caesar."

"Iulius' ancestor?" asked Shizuka.

"Yes, he was a very handsome young man, as is Iulius. I wouldn't be against a Zeppeli dating a Joestar..."

Jolyne burst out laughing as Shizuka started to become transparent.

"Grandma! You're supposed to advise Jolyne, not me!"

"Oh dear, I can take care of you both, but you're right." The old woman turned her focus back to Jolyne, who immediately stopped laughing. "A traitorous boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend, and a bunch of near-vampires who act oddly at the scent of your blood... So tell me, was that boyfriend serious? Did you take him to your house to meet your mother?"

It looked like she couldn't escape. Before answering, Jolyne grabbed a cookie and stuffed it in her mouth because, boy, did she need all that sweetness.

The truth of the matter was that Romeo had met her mom by chance when he came to pick Jolyne up on the same day of the accident. She hadn't known what laid ahead for them, but she knew that she had desperately wanted Marena's approval of her new boyfriend. Her mom had been wary of her friends in her former biker gang, and it had driven a wedge between the mother and daughter for a while until Jolyne had finally cut ties with the group. Romeo had been part of Jolyne's clean slate. Someone whom Jolyne had entrusted her heart and her hopes.

"It wasn't a long relationship. It was all very quick, over like a flash. I thought I was in love, but now I know I didn't understand that I was really just dazzled, especially when comparing it with…"

She stopped short. Now was not an appropriate time to follow up with that.

"It doesn't matter. It was fast, and actually, we weren't even together for a month. He was always pressuring me to..." She made gestures with her fingers, clearly sexual. "I know I'm at an age where many girls have already done it, but I've never gone beyond kissing. Well, thinking about it now, maybe something good came of the accident after all. Sure, someone died, I was convicted, and my heart was broken, but at least I didn't give my first time to that lying son of a..." Jolyne clenched her fists and felt her eyes water.

She heard Lisa Lisa clear her throat.

"One day, I will find that young man and give him a beating that will make him wish he had faced your father instead."

The thought of her ex-boyfriend being beaten by an old lady brought a smile to Jolyne's face.

"So, you mean to tell me you're a virgin?"

Jolyne choked, blushing. Beside her, Shizuka completely disappeared with an "eep".

"Wh-What? What's this got to do with anything?" Jolyne asked, wondering if Lisa Lisa was joking.

"I'm serious. This is very important. If you are a virgin, that could explain the reaction the near-vampires have when they smell you."

Jolyne listened, intrigued, as Lisa Lisa began to explain her theory. As ridiculous as it seemed, sounding like a plot straight out of a hentai, she also couldn't deny its plausability.

"So, in order to solve this, you just have to get it over with," Lisa Lisa said, reaching her conclusion. "Do you have any candidates in mind?"

Jolyne blushed even more. 'Is my life really hinging on my sex life?'

"No, well… Couldn't I just, y'know, do it myself? Take my own first time."

"Surely, you've lost your hymen over the course of your life. Virginity is a strange thing; for humans, it is merely a system of unfairly classifying women, but we're talking about vampires. I couldn't tell you how it works, but somehow, they know... And by the way, don't think I didn't notice how you lost control of your breathing. You clearly have someone in mind."

Jolyne opened her mouth to deny it, but Shizuka suddenly popped up next to her, having become visible again.

"It's Giorno," the little girl said. "All blonde, golden, and powerful but at her feet, grandma. And she's the same way." She disappeared again before Jolyne could strangle her.

Lisa Lisa clapped her hands. "Perfect then."

"Coach! He's..." Jolyne lowered her voice as if it were an embarrassing secret. "One of Dio's children."

"My dear, Giorno is not a common name. Of course, I know who he is. Dio's son, who is helping us capture his brother and who saved my grandchildren and helped protect you. My father, the man who raised me, was a monster in the end, but that doesn't make me anyone but who I wanted to be. Besides…"

Lisa Lisa gave her a confident smile much like Joseph's.

"I trust your judgment. Unless I'm wrong and you're a complete moron, there's no way you're going to make the same mistake again like you did with the lying boyfriend. So, I will support whatever decision you make. Do it when you want to, and not because you feel pressured to."

Jolyne mulled over the woman's words. She wanted to get up and leave, but seeing how Shizuka was having a good time with her grandma, she decided to stay.

The topic of the conversation finally shifted away from her for good. When Lisa Lisa told them a bit about her life, Jolyne felt a little guilty about all the terrible things she had thought about the old woman. She wasn't perfect, but to Jolyne, she seemed tremendously strong.

They sat there for almost two hours before Lisa Lisa kindly invited them to leave. Hamon did not make one immortal and it was evident that the old woman was tired, so they both left, wishing her a good evening.

Jolyne decided she was going to find an empty training ground and try some meditation to calm her nerves. Before Shizuka left, she informed Jolyne that she was going to take the opportunity to get some rest. However, Jolyne knew that her plans had gone awry when she heard the girl yelling at Iulius.

It was almost funny to see the two teenagers constantly bickering, but watching her yell at the blond Italian that clearly liked her made Jolyne feel a little strange. She supposed the blonds and Italians were something anchored in the Joestars. As she wandered and found herself going toward the lonely part of the island connected by a narrow path, she couldn't help but think about hers.

At this point, did it make sense to deny the deep feelings she had for him? She didn't think so, but still, there was a small part of her that kept screaming at her to be careful, not to trust so easily.

"f*ck Romeo," she said.

Cursing him out loud made her realize how ridiculous it all seemed. Even his name was ridiculous. Every time she called him, she sounded like she was in a f*cking Shakespeare play, and on top of that, the idiot had refused to let her call him by nicknames or abbreviations.

Because Romeo had hurt her, now she didn't even feel herself able to open up to another person as she deserved. It was strange, but knowing that Giorno could suffer as a result, she became even angrier but in a different way. Although, it was ridiculous to worry about someone like Romeo hurting Giorno when the latter was practically a god.

'No, he only has godlike powers,' she mentally corrected herself. That did not make him invulnerable. He might be to attacks, but his heart had been wounded one too many occasions and she didn't want to be the cause of one more. She would do anything to protect him, and now she knew how. She was pretty sure of herself this time, unlike with Romeo, with whom she had had to convince herself that she should do it. But she dared not say it out loud, not even in her thoughts.

Meditation. She finally rested after stepping off the narrow path. She tried to remember everything she had been taught, to let the sun filter through her body and let her oxygen convert it into pure energy. It was always warm, although the first few times, before she got it under control, she sometimes felt like she was going to burn or make her blood boil.

From afar, she could still hear the cries of Shizuka and other students and the sound of the sea. It was almost as if she was in another world, a world where only energy existed. Noise was not uncommon at Air Suplena, so it did not attract her attention.

That was until the alarm over the public address system began to blare.

WAAAHHHHHHH! WAAAHHHHHHH!

Jolyne jumped up and started running to the main square.

A hand enclosed over her shoulder. She barely caught a glimpse of a flash of blonde hair and icy blue eyes when she heard a voice that petrified her on the spot against her ear.

"Hello, my love. I’ve missed you," Donatello said.

Chapter 36: Midas

Chapter Text

Candia, Heraklion, 1648

From 1648 to 1669, one of the longest sieges in history took place in Candia after the Knights of the Order of Malta attacked an Ottoman convoy and docked with the treasure in the city of Candia. The Ottomans put the city under siege for twenty-one years until it eventually fell. During that time, soldiers constantly circled between Crete and Venice.

Air Suplena Island, present day

The arrival of a bunch of knights of the Order of Malta puzzled all of the Hamon apprentices. No matter how much training they had received, nothing could prepare them for the sight of a group of 15th-century people disembarking in the harbor, ready to attack the residents of the island. The bewilderment quickly formed chaos that the apprentices soon began to undertake. Although the assailants seemed to be greater in number, no one was better trained than the Air Suplena apprentices.

Nevertheless, the attack was only a diversionary maneuver, and it worked perfectly. Between the noise of the alarms and the shouts of the people, no one heard Jolyne's scream.

The arduous training, both Bruno's and the island's, served its purpose. Wringing the hand off her shoulder, Jolyne was able to create three firm string ropes, extending them and loading them with Hamon to create powerful whips around herself. Neither the first nor the second hit their target, but the third whip struck Donatello's forearm hard and even caused him to bleed. Jolyne smiled at that, but Donatello looked at her oddly for a few moments before smiling too. Taken aback, she clenched her fists tight.

"How the hell did you manage to sneak in here?" She readied for another attack. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"Why, would you have warmly welcomed me if I told you I was coming?"

He calmly rolled up the sleeve of his white suit, with the first three buttons of the shirt open. A long red leather jacket was draped over his shoulders, fastened only by a platinum chain around his neck. The bleeding forearm slowly healed itself right before her frustrated eyes.

"You're getting stronger. I like it. My girlfriend can't be any less," he said, taking a couple of steps back. "A partner is someone who makes you grow as a person and challenges you."

With his unnatural speed, he touched the ground before trying to attack her again while dodging. Jolyne knew she couldn't attack him with the strings forever, and above all, she wouldn't hold out that long using Hamon; she had to be more precise. She found herself again in the same situation as in Florida, but now, Giorno would not magically appear out of nowhere to save her. She could not depend on anyone. As she had done so many times with Bruno, she threw Stone Free's fist against Donatello's face. Too busy dodging the strings, he couldn't dodge the fist. Jolyne found it very satisfying to wipe the smile off his face with one punch.

"I think we've had enough foreplay, darling," he said.

Jolyne became grim. She never thought it would be easy even with all her training, and his words proved that. She was still optimistic about her chances of defeating him, however.

"I hate you," she said, launching a whip that corrected its trajectory twice but still missed. She tried the attack again but only hit him in the jacket that fluttered with his movements. "I hate you so much, you piece of sh*t!"

She saw his eyes flash, his jaw clenching tight. Jolyne wanted to laugh.

"Aw, are you hurt?" she said.

"Enough games," he spat.

Glancing at his watch, Donatello realized he was running out of time. Her attacks were getting trickier too. He bent down to use his power.

He had researched the area beforehand. The knights of the Order of Malta were not the only weapons in his arsenal. It had been quite difficult to get the information about the history of the warriors of the Hamon, but once he got to the origins, he began to find very interesting things. He found information about the tribe of the Pillar Men. And how one of them had died on Air Suplena Island at the hands of Joseph Joestar.

The gleam in Donatello's eyes and the appearance of his Stand told Jolyne that she had lost what little advantage she might have had. She tensed, preparing for whatever he was about to unleash. He barely called his Stand when she heard a huge rumble and a loud voice from behind her.

"JoJo, I'm sorry I have to renege on our agreement."

Her heart jumped when she whipped around and came almost face to face with a dark-skinned, broad chest that was rippling with muscles. She had to tilt her head back to even see the face, which, though handsome and smiling, gave a sense of cruelty and superiority over her. With a shudder, Jolyne realized he was not human.

"It's lucky you all end up calling each other the same name, isn't it, my sweet JoJo?" said Donatello from somewhere behind her. "I'm not going to be your opponent. Meet Esidisi, who fought your great-grandfather."

Jolyne had heard the story of the creators of the vampires, superhuman creatures who made the stone masks to transcend their boundaries, and with them came the vampires. The Pillar Men were super predators that fed on vampires.

"Donatello, you f*cking coward! Are you too scared to fight me yourself?"

She, who had always boasted of not needing help, wished at that moment to have her father, her friends, Giorno, or whoever, close by. However, no one was coming, and Donatello wasn't going to play by any rules. Jolyne forced herself to take a calming breath. She couldn't break her the rhythm of her breathing, or she would be completely lost. Hamon was the only escape.

No one, not even the bigger men she had beaten in prison who left her broken were even slightly similar to that beast in front of her. As her opponent let out a speech, Jolyne's mind quickly ran through all the techniques she had developed with Bucciarati and decided on setting a string trap as she moved around him.

Donatello stood a handful of meters away, quietly observing the battle with his arms crossed. He had to admire the Pillar Man's strength and cunning, and that only made him prouder of the growth he was witnessing in Jolyne. At this rate, there was no doubt that she could conquer the world. A woman like her was only fit to be by his side.

He had read about the battle; the chronicles he came across when he infiltrated the Hamon sanctuary in Tibet had relayed how Joseph Joestar had taken care of a legendary Pillar Man with a simple magic trick made of wool. Apparently, Jolyne had thought of practically the same thing without even thinking about it. It was amazing how much someone could resemble their family without thinking about it. Just as he resembled the great DIO. Only, just like Jolyne was better than Joseph, he wouldn't fail as his father had.

Her power was flowing wonderfully well, but even though the strategy was clever, Jolyne couldn't avoid getting hit. The tantalizing smell of her spilled blood was making it a little harder than expected for him to concentrate, but that was okay. Unlike his father, he wouldn't rely on only a single ace up his sleeve in turn. He could see that Jolyne was getting more and more tired. His intention wasn't really to hurt her too much.

She had managed magnificently against that creature, but Donatello was even more meticulous. Now was the time to intervene. Concentrating his ability on the area to give the impact of Esidisi's attacks full power, he compelled the Pillar Man, who now had a blank stare, to hold her firmly. He could see that one of her arms was almost undone too. That made things easier for him. Smiling, he went to her and grabbed her face almost reverentially.

Her flushed face, flashing green eyes, and clenched teeth gave him a sense of deja vu from the time when he had cornered her in the swamp a few months ago. Just like then, she was pinned down and helpless as he touched her, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"No matter how far you ran, how long you hid, and how hard you trained," he said, "in the end, you still wound back up like this before me."

Jolyne flinched as his thumb moved from her cheek to stroke her lip. He had heard many stories and legends about a vampire's kiss and had experienced it himself many times to put it to the test. The kiss didn't really mean anything in itself, but having a human drink his blood made them dependent on him, especially in a sexual sense. He knew he was attractive and suspected that she thought so too because of the circ*mstances under which they had met, so he would only need a push.

Donatello bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted metallic liquid, then punched her stomach so hard, her lips parted with a gasp. Grabbing her face again, he quickly sealed her mouth with his own. It was not the most romantic thing, but he had always maintained a pragmatism about romance.

When Jolyne realized what was going on, she let loose a muffled scream and tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her face, holding it firmly in place. He reinvigorated his attacks on her mouth, forcing a gulp of blood down her throat. Still holding her flush against him, Donatello could feel her body's temperature rising. She must have noticed too because she struggled even harder, but trying to use a breathing-based technique when kissing seemed impossible.

Despite already having fed her some blood, he did not cease his rough, sloppy movements. He was like a hungry wolf who could not be satisfied once it pounced on its prey. He had wanted to kiss her since their first encounter, and the time he had been away from her had only served to make him crave her even more. Sensing his blood inside her now turned him on more than he thought it would.

He knew he should hurry, but seeing Jolyne resist less and less in his arms was making him forget the carefully planned itinerary. He noticed the precise moment when his blood overcame her will. He pulled away slightly to check, and it was even better than he expected. Without separating from him, she licked her swollen lips and moaned with shame.

At his grin, the cloudy look in her eyes seemed to shift.

"You…f*cking pervert," Jolyne said, her voice trembling, both with rage and something else. She tried spitting out the clear saliva mixed with red, but it did no good for the blood she had already ingested. "You creep. Pig. Filthy maggot." She was far too indignant to come up with anything more creative. Her vision was filling with red, and she was too scared to acknowledge the heat filling in her cheeks or a familiar tingling.

A few drops of Giorno's blood had kept her excited and dreaming about him for days. From Donatello, she had had a good drink. Her stomach clenched with horror at the implication. Feeling tears threaten to form, she forced herself to focus on nothing but her rage, letting it overshadow anything else.

Donatello calmly touched his own lips with his thumb where some of her spittle had landed. He felt a thrill when his finger came back covered with not just his blood but green lipstick stains.

How could he bear to keep his Jojo waiting when she looked so desperate for another kiss? Her words may be harsh, but her body continued to heat up with every passing second. He wanted to break her and make her his, but he had no intention to deny her her carnal desires. Perhaps it was a little disappointing how easy she was to subjugate with vampire blood, but it would make his life easier and serve to advance many of the fantasies that he had built with her as the protagonist.

He wanted to kiss her again; it wouldn't hurt to ensure that she was under his firm control for the trip. Now that she was on the edge of being subjugated, he might even consider being gentler.

Just as he was about to lean in again, his plans were cut short when he felt a sudden force imbued with that dreadful energy hit his back. It didn't hurt too much, but the shock made him whip around. There was no one there. Aside from the two of them and Esidisi, the place was as barren as when he first entered it. Saturated with the taste of Jolyne and her scent, it took him longer than would be normal to locate the perpetrator. Of course, an invisible critter.

Donatello let go of Jolyne almost as if it pained him. He had to, as the intruder couldn't be allowed to get in his way. Even though he or she was invisible, he could smell them once he concentrated on something other than Jolyne.

Speaking of Jolyne, he could hear the sounds of her spitting and gagging behind him, trying to vomit. He felt assured knowing Eisidisi continued to restrain her.

The person was invisible, but there was little that could be done against a dhampire's heightened senses. It didn't take him long to pinpoint them. It was too obvious that they were going to try to use Hamon on him again. Grabbing their arm, he clenched and twisted it, hearing a resounding snap. He felt no remorse as a scream filled the sky.

The air before him flickered and a small girl materialized. He seized the loose hair at the back of her head and yanked it down hard so that her face jerked up, giving him a clear view. Those terrified brown eyes tickled his memory. A grin slowly split across his face.

"Oh, I remember you. Little miss fake Joestar is all grown up." His hand released her hair, only to wrap around her neck instead. "I should have killed you years ago, but better late than never. This time your father isn't here to save you."

"Wait! I'll do whatever you want, anything you ask. Just don't hurt her!" Jolyne tried to free herself desperately, her breathing becoming irregular.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding here," Donatello said. "You're going to do what I want you to do anyway. But I'll admit, it's more fun if you do put up a little resistance. Wouldn't you say so?"

He had barely finished speaking when he heard a thud sound as something fell to the ground. It was Esidisi's severed arm. Stunned, he looked at Jolyne, who seemed just as stupefied as him. However, she quickly snapped out of it and took the opportunity to spring free from the pillar man.

"Now you're going to say 'what the hell was that?'"

"What the hell was that?" shouted Donatello, searching for the new enemy.

Underworld's ability was nothing short of a replay of past tragedies under Donatello's control, but he had lost control while kissing Jolyne.

"Leave the girl, you little sh*tty boy, and face me, Joseph Joestar!"

Shizuka had seen pictures of her father as a young man and knew he looked quite a bit like her brother, but seeing him in front of her was a different matter. She felt a lump form in her throat. The face she had missed for so many years seemed to be looking at her yet also right through her as if she didn't exist. He had come to save her, even if he wasn't real.

"Daddy," she said in a choked voice. With her good arm, she wiped her tears before they could fall. Now was not the time to freeze and show weakness. "Jolyne, focus on kicking Donatello's ass. Daddy and I will take care of him.”

Jolyne barely had time to register that the person was Joseph Joestar as if he had come down from Heaven to save his daughter again. She was exhausted, but greater than the fatigue and pain was her rage. The wretch had dared to force his slimy tongue and blood down her throat. She was going to burn all that blood with Hamon after giving him the biggest beating of his life.

"You bastard. That was nasty on top of being sexual assault," she said, spitting again, despite having already spat out all of the blood she had in her mouth. "I'm going to make you lose a lot more blood than you made me drink."

"Promises, promises," he responded.

The battle behind them followed the cycle of the past, with Joseph imposing himself with ingenuity over the Pillar Man. The weather was getting worse by leaps and bounds, with the sky becoming overcast with dark clouds and the winds becoming stronger. Jolyne knew that if ever she had to use all the training she had received in those months, this was the time. Now or never. She might not be able to fight against supernatural abilities like Donatello's speed, but she didn't need to be faster than anyone else if she could spread her strings by concentrating the Hamon on the tips, making herself a sort of deadly jellyfish. If he was three times faster than her, she only had to double her chances with six tips at a time. Using more strings unraveled more of her body, but it also created more holes in her skin, allowing the strings beneath to absorb the force of any punches that managed to land there.

Suddenly, both Esidisi and Joseph vanished into thin air, but for a moment, Joseph flickered into being again. He waved goodbye to the girl, winking at her, before disappearing again. It may have been a projection created from a Stand, but for a few moments, it was clear to Shizuka that that was her father waving goodbye after protecting her for the last time.

Lightning struck the area they were in and everyone understood at once what was happening: the false clues to their whereabouts had already been discovered, and Weather Report had already reached the island. The fact that Underworld had been deactivated only meant that Gold Experience was also on site. A curse escaped Donatello's lips as he tried to lash out more desperately, his attacks becoming wilder.

The square where they were fighting suddenly began to fill with strange creatures. They looked like turtles and some were strange types of fungi. They all had eyes, mouths and legs. Knowing what they were, Donatello just glanced at them, but Jolyne and Shizuka were left with their mouths hanging open. If Jolyne weren't too busy trying to free herself from the death grip around her, she would have turned to Shizuka for reassurance that she wasn't going crazy seeing the minions fighting Super Mario in the flesh as the tide of gompas carried her away.

"You can never get rid of me, JoJo. You were made for me!" Donatello shouted.

Caught between him and those little beings, Jolyne thought fast. She had never tried what she was about to do, but she hoped it would work. Taking a deep breath, she began unraveling herself from every corner of her body. Her legs, arms, and abdomen disappeared into a flurry of string. As she got closer and closer to her heart and lungs, her chest thudded though she still continued. Then, with an exhale, a last burst of hamon energy rushed through her, imbuing themselves into her strings and turning them golden.

Donatello grunted, feeling the touch of the golden strings like burning wires at first, but then he began bleeding and the pain became too much to bear. He reflexively let go. The strings moved a couple of meters away from him, bringing along with them Jolyne's head and torso that was attached. He watched them slowly remake themself into her missing limbs.

Just as he took a step in her direction again, his own henchmen suddenly seemed to obstruct his way. Donatello began shouting and resisting as they tried to drag him in the opposite direction, not caring if he injured them in the process. His furious gaze remained fixated on Jolyne, who had a pained but victorious expression as her body continued raveling back together. With a cry, he shoved aside one of the minions blocking him and leaped toward her.

Another flicker flashed in front of them and they saw two imposing figures approaching. One was the figure hitherto unknown in person to Donatello but long seen in reports, Jotato Kujo. The other was the huge turtle Bowser, legendary enemy of Super Mario; he was even bigger than Esidisi. Bowser, who was already beside Donatello, grabbed him by the red leather jacket on his shoulders, but no matter how much he tugged, it was to no avail.

The scene was worthy of being a freakish amusem*nt park. Jolyne, however, was too busy trying to fully ravel back together to be amused.

Seeing a shadow cast over her, she looked up and saw Donatello's cold, bloodshot eyes. She felt a scream build in her chest as his hand stretched toward her…

The next thing Donatello knew, he was wrenched from Jolyne's side and lifted off the ground by a grip around his neck. He felt a burning pain there but that couldn’t compare to the cold feeling that awashed him when he found himself being stared down by the most lethal pair of eyes he had ever seen. Was this what his father had seen before he died? He didn't doubt it. For the first time in a long time, he felt fear.

The pair of eyes glaring at him looked at something over his shoulder.

"Dad, you're here."

"Are you okay, Jolyne?"

"Been better. Took you long enough."

"It was our fault. We didn't realize we fell right into his trap."

"Good that you know. Remember to maybe bring me along next time."

"Mm."

Donatello, who saw black spots at the edge of his vision, clawed his hands at the ones around his neck, but it was futile.

"My JoJo…"

"Don't call me JoJo, asshole," Jolyne said, appearing in his vision, fully formed. She turned to her father.

"Hey, dad, why are you cuddling him? Is that the best you can do?"

In answer, Jotaro squeezed a little harder, tightening his grip around Donatello's neck.

"I give up," Donatello said with a choked gasp. He raised his arms in surrender.

"Yare yare daze," said Jotaro. "Do we have anything to tie him up?"

"I can always create something," said Giorno from behind him, hoping no one would notice that he had had to run to keep up with a gentleman well into his forties. "It's too slippery." He turned back. "Signore Report, would you mind ending the storm?"

Giorno stared with contempt at the creature he had the misfortune of sharing blood with. Despite all his claims about superiority over others, Donatello's face turned purple all the same when running out of oxygen. Knowing he might do something he would regret if he continued to stand there, Giorno instead approached Shizuka, who appeared to be wounded. Giving her a curt warning that it was going to hurt, he healed her arm within a few moments.

Finishing with her, he was then approached by Jolyne. He tried to contain his anger as his nose picked up a small trace of Donatello on her. Seeing the blood stains around her mouth along with the smudges of green lipstick, he was quick to connect the dots.

He knew perfectly well what had been on his monstrous brother's mind. Vampire blood was the most potent aphrodisiac he could think of; it was almost like drugging her before trying to rape her. If the desire Giorno had felt for Jolyne was potent, then the one to dismember Donatello with his own hands starting with castrating him in one go was beginning to be the strongest he had ever felt. His eyes reddened and his fangs turned sharp.

"Hey, Punzie!" Jolyne snapped her fingers in front of him. "That jackass cracked one of my ribs. Flower, gleam and glow, let your powers shine," she crooned, trying to bring him back to his senses. "This is gonna hurt, ugh."

Giorno held his breath. Even though Rohan had placed his spell on him again, Jolyne's blood was too potent for it not to affect him at all. Not to mention Donatello's smell on her. The beast inside him was crying out for them to exchange blood, that what Donatello had put in her was a drop next to him. However, it was easier to control when it knew Jolyne was in pain. He took out a handkerchief that had been perfumed with a potent scent and covered his nose with it.

Jolyne's face full of pain was the best slap of reality to focus on, so he proceeded to cure it, with his hunger only a slight background annoyance.

As he placed his hands on her, a golden glow appeared and a painful sensation ran up and down her but healed her on the spot. Donatello stirred at that moment.

"You think she's yours, wrapping her in your filthy power?"

"Please, Dad, can you strangle him some more so he won't talk? Maybe it isn't the best idea if you're planning to interrogate him, but..." Jolyne shrugged.

"We've found someone who he left as a red herring," Jotaro said, his normally monotone voice conveying some ill-contained anger.

It wasn't long before they heard the moans and groans of one additional person, a blonde man. Jolyne's face was filled with two things: recognition and horror.

"Jolyne! Joliet! These people set me up!" cried Romeo.

Jolyne scanned the situation around her, thinking almost wistfully that the same morning all she had planned to do was to plunge into freezing cold water for a strenuous workout. "Yare yare dawa, can we toss him into the sea?"

Chapter 37: Averno

Chapter Text

Jolyne was quite resolute about how to deal with her ex-boyfriend for the time being. It didn't take more than a sharp blow to the back of the head to knock him unconscious; he was a problem she would deal with later. Now she had some more important matters to deal with, like two brothers who wanted to kill one another. Actually, on second thought, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Letting Giorno kill Donatello would be the best option. She was on the verge of suggesting this idea when her dad spoke up.

"We should interrogate him for information about Pucci and whatever was up with those biologically incorrect turtles just now," Jotaro said.

"True, we can't kill him just yet," Jolyne said with a disappointed sigh.

"Dr. Kujo, if you will, I have experience making people talk," Giorno said.

"No offense, Giovanna, but I can't trust you with your brother."

"It's all right, dad. We can trust him." Jolyne put a hand on Giorno's shoulder. "I know I do."

Star Platinum held Donatello while Jotaro adjusted his hat and muttered one of his signature 'yare yare daze'. Giorno shot a grateful look at her. Weather Report looked between them but said nothing. It was Shizuka who cut the silence as she stared at the unconscious Romeo.

"So, blondies, huh?"

"Yeah, blonde like Iulius," Jolyne replied, making Shizuka blush with embarrassment.

Obviously, the Hamon warriors were prepared to deal with vampires, so there was an underground dungeon on the island that was suitable to hold Donatello. She had only seen it once herself before while touring the island. The matter of Donatello's Stand made things a little bit more tricky, but after some discussion, they quickly decided he would be bound at the wrists with silver chains and watched over by someone at all times so that he would have no opportunity to activate his Stand.

Shizuka was tired, but she was feeling much better thanks to Giorno, so she took care of Romeo with the help of Iulius, who came running to the area to offer his help in any way he could. Even though they were practically children, the Hamon training made the two of them much stronger than Romeo, so they took him without any problems. For a second, Shizuka's eyes met Jolyne's, who smiled mischievously at her as she mouthed the word 'blondes', causing Shizuka to quicken her pace.

Jotaro was called over by Lisa Lisa to talk about the wreckage, so only Jolyne was left along with Weather Report and Giorno to transport Donatello to the dungeon. Or rather, she led them while Weather Report dragged Donatello and Giorno trailed behind them, probably so as not to kill him right there.

Despite the age of the dungeon, it was not so different from a police station cell. It had a small bed behind long bars and a tiny ceiling window that allowed the moonlight to pass through into the cell below. The most modern thing about the place was the electrical installation and a small modern urinal.

After Donatello was tied up, Jolyne and Weather Report had a quick whispered conversation with their heads close together. She could feel Giorno's gaze on her from the corner of her eye, but nothing more. Perhaps he had grown accustomed to this habit of Weather Report's along with the way he tiptoed around as though he lived in a continuous state of extreme caution. To Jolyne, there was still so much mystery built around her friend, even compared to the others, but her gut told her he was a good person deep down.

Weather Report nodded to what she said and patted her on the shoulder before exiting the dungeon.

Feeling Giorno's gaze burn with curiosity, she said, "I asked Weather Report to let you talk to this guy alone."

"Grazie, not that I have much to talk to this monster about anyway," Giorno replied, shooting a disgusted look toward the cell.

"Of course, we're all monsters except for our golden boy," Donatello said.

Under the dim lighting of the cell, he looked too relaxed sitting on the bed for someone whose hands were chained together in front. While his red leather jacket looked pristine, his white suit was stained with blood.

"I'm sure that no matter how many lies you've told Rikiel, you think the same about our brother. Who even knows what you would have said about Ungalo."

"Ungalo?" Giorno was quick to latch onto that. "Is that the name of our brother?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Answer the question properly. I don't like repeating myself."

"You really want to know about our brothers, do you?" Donatello raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'll tell you, but not today. I don't feel like continuing the conversation."

Jolyne glanced at Giorno. His face looked calm, but she could tell that something wasn't right; his fists behind his back were clenched tight in anger. Remembering Rikiel, she guessed that the information on their remaining brother must be very important to him.

"I'm not going to get my hands dirty with you," Giorno said coldly, "but I'm sure my men will enjoy doing so. Didn't you want to meet them? One of them is going to love making you talk and then taking care of the remains."

Giorno was no longer Giorno at that point. He was Don Giovanna; he explained, not threatened.

"He's a specialist in dismembering bodies and keeping them alive during the process. At 12 years old, with a small knife, he dispatched men more intimidating than you. At 20, he was already feared by all of Italy. Imagine how much he's refined his skills now that he's left his humanity behind. He's a true craftsman of torture. Working on a unique specimen like you, who is capable of healing so quickly, will bring him immense joy."

Donatello was glaring at him with so much hatred, if looks could kill, Giorno would have been torn to shreds before her very eyes by now. Giorno, however, looked relaxed as he took a step forward.

"One way or another, you will answer my questions," he said. "Whether it's now or later, more painful or less, that's for you to decide."

"I'm not telling you anything," Donatello spat, trembling with rage. "Not to you or your cronies. Go ahead and try to torture me all you want. You aren't getting a word out of me."

"Is that so? Have it your way. The mafia shows no mercy, not even to blood relatives. You may be my brother, but you aren't my fratello."

As the brothers stared one another down murderously, Jolyne could swear the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. She decided it was a good time to bring up something that had been bothering her.

"The last of you, Ungalo. He's here somewhere nearby on this island or in Venice, isn't he?" Jolyne said. "He must be the one who violated Nintendo's intellectual property."

It was just a guess, but Jolyne became more sure as she said it aloud. It could explain Donatello's nonchalance. He must be counting on this brother to save him.

Not good. She shot Giorno a grim look.

"Oh? You want to know more about my brothers too, my JoJo?" Donatello leaned forward as much as the chains would allow, a smug grin on his face. "In that case, maybe I do feel like talking. I wouldn't mind if you're the interrogator."

"Eyes on me, Versus," Giorno growled.

Donatello ignored him, his eyes not leaving Jolyne's. "I'm willing to talk, but you have to do something for me first."

Jolyne glared, knowing it couldn't be anything good.

"I want you to kiss me."

Giorno went rigid beside her. No doubt he must be regretting what he had said before about her offer to let him be alone with Donatello.

Just when he was about to say something, she stepped forward to open the solidly barred door that separated her from Donatello. She approached him calmly as if to inspect him. Since he was kept seated and chained to the bed that served as a bench, it was the first time she had seen him from above. It was a little less scary that way after being haunted by him in her nightmares for so long.

She swallowed down her disgust when she caught sight of the smudged green lipstick stains around his mouth. She was afraid to look at herself in a mirror. Her own lipstick had to have been smudged too and maybe even covered in blood. Could Giorno have realized…?

She shoved the thought out of her head as she gently took Donatello's face in both hands and gazed at him. Smiling, he closed his eyes in anticipation. It was at that moment when she headbutted him hard in the nose. A telltale crack was heard, and Donatello groaned.

She let go, bursting out laughing. "Did you really think I was going to do it?" she said, clutching her stomach. "Oh, I feel so much better, more relaxed. Giorno, could you fix his nose so he can break it again?"

She tossed a look over her shoulder and found Giorno returning her smile.

Donatello's grimace faded as his blood dripped from his nose toward his mouth. He stuck out his tongue to lick it slowly. "Mm. Delicious, don't you think, my JoJo? You've had a taste for yourself, and I'm sure I'm going to love yours too. It must be true that love is about sharing because I certainly enjoyed doing it with you." His smile chilled her bones. "If you want more, you know you only have to ask."

Jolyne froze. Something churned in her stomach. She wanted to say it was all disgust, but there was something else too, something she had been able to willfully ignore during the battle. But now the adrenaline was gone, and she felt an inexplicable evil desire that brought her shame.

Meeting Donatello's deep blue gaze, she saw his cold eyes dance with laughter. She quickly turned her gaze downward, only to catch sight of the splotches of blood on his expensive tailored suit. Whose blood was it? She began to wonder if the red of the leather was just meant for camouflage.

She wanted to break his nose again… but then she also wanted to lick the blood that seeped out. At the memory of the kiss, there was a surge of pure anger intermigled with desire. Jolyne clenched her fists, trying to look nonchalant.

Seconds could have passed or even minutes before she felt a gentle grip on her arm, pulling her out of the cell.

As the cell door shut with a click, she looked up and met Giorno's reassuring aquamarine gaze. He pulled out a handkerchief neatly folded in his lapel. Grabbing her gently by the chin, he brought the handkerchief to her face, setting about wiping it. Slowly, her face felt cleaner. When he withdrew the handkerchief that was stained red and green and held out his hand, it took her a few seconds to understand what he was asking. She handed him the green lipstick she carried in her pocket. Cradling her face with one hand, he proceeded to carefully reapply the color to her lips.

"Not a trace," he whispered to her.

This time, the faint heat she felt in her cheeks had nothing to do with the blood she'd consumed.

"No matter how much you try to erase me from her body, you can't get rid of me!"

There was the sound of chains clinking and moving. She turned and saw Donatello angrily tug at his restraints, seeming to check the hardness even though it burned him.

"This posh Italian wouldn't understand anything you've been through, Jolyne, but I do!"

At his words, she gave him her full attention, pursing her lips.

"Do you know? I was once also sent to f*cking prison for something I didn't do, and I was only 13. Like you, I was treated like sh*t over there. And also like you, I was isolated from a family that was supposed to love me. Don't you see? Our lives are a reflection. It's gravity, if you think about it. It's what Pucci was telling us so much about..."

"If you're going to talk, it better be information we want on Pucci. I don't give a damn about your so-called feelings for me." Jolyne glared before sighing in frustration. "You know what? I've had enough for today. Punzie, he's all yours. Enjoy the family reunion."

"You're leaving already? You can go ahead and try to escape. Chasing you is fun, my JoJo," he said, licking his lips.

Jolyne heard a 'crack' that momentarily stole Donatello's smile before it returned to his face, now with an unbearable smirk. Squinting her eyes, she noticed something odd about his nose. Not only had it stopped bleeding, but it seemed…intact. As though it had never been broken in the first place. Seeing this, she put her hand on her throbbing forehead, on the place where she had hit him.

She whipped around, rushing away. She didn't think she could take another second of that smug smile or the tantalizing smell of his blood that was now inside her as well.

As she left, she mumbled something insulting under her breath, slamming the door behind her. Of course, a lone string was left behind. She didn't intend to stop listening to what was going on in there. Donatello wasn't able to see it from his position, and she hoped Giorno wouldn't either. She found a safe spot for herself a distance away, half-way toward the exit.

It was amazing how quickly the atmosphere in the dungeon changed. She even seemed to notice a change in temperature through her thread.

"So, you're working with the enemy now, are you? With the same man who killed our father?"

"I'm not the one who murdered their patriarch in cold blood," she heard Giorno say. "They're not my enemy."

"Oh, so you think the Joestars are going to let you have her just because you play the good guy with them?" Donatello didn't laugh, though the mockery was present in his words. "You may be the golden boy, but you're nothing but a dirty mobster to them, dirtier still for climbing over others to get your way to the top. You're just as much a son of Dio as the rest of us, only guiltier of more crimes."

"How many of us are there? I know there's one more at least. I'm giving you a chance to talk before I force it out of you." Giorno's voice was stoic.

"You're still as cold as when we first met. I hated you then, you know. I was destined to be the one to lead Dio's sons, and then overnight, Pucci showed up with news of another one with life-giving abilities and, on top of that, he controlled the most powerful gang in all of Italy." Donatello's voice seemed empty at that moment. "But when you arrived, I discovered that you were little more than a child, more lost than even I was. You had no courage to do what really needed to be done. That's all you ever do. Keep me from doing things like a coward. The worst part is that even Rikiel wants to leave with you."

"Rikiel is a grown adult who can choose for himself," Giorno said coolly. "Do you treat our other brother like that as well?"

Donatello began to laugh, the reverberations of his laughter making Jolyne's skin crawl. "Do you really think I'm so easily fooled as to give you more information about our other brother like that? You want to know more about him. Well, I'll tell you that his name really is Ungalo, but nothing more. If you want to know more, you'll have to wait until we beat you. You lost the right to know more about them the day you left us."

"Left you? Is that what you've convinced yourself? Don't you mean the day you went to assassinate Joseph Joestar?" Giorno spat. "You know the main difference between you and me? I don't run away from my mistakes and spend my time blaming others for them."

"That's what you tell yourself to sleep at night on your throne over the corpses of your enemies? You know, I wouldn't have actually been able to do it if you had warned them in advance. I trusted that you were too much of an egomaniac to ask for help, and I was right. You're a lot easier to read than you think, and you're certainly not invincible. That will be the end of you."

Jolyne furrowed her brows, questions flooding her mind, but she would wait to hear an explanation from Giorno later. That was a much better option than continuing to think about the sinister things that might or might not have happened.

"I may agree with that to an extent, but it won't be today and it won't be by you," Giorno said. "I have more people on my side than you think. You think you're going to get into my head that easily?"

"Our father also believed in his followers, but he ended up dying alone. His followers convinced him that he controlled them, yet that control was not enough, just like you with your zombies. Oh, I know about your little secret in the basem*nt of Naples, GioGio..." He exaggerated every syllable of his name with a thick fake Italian accent, making it almost sound like an insulting parody. "It's the same with the Speedwagon Foundation... Jotaro Kujo isn't going to let you near his daughter now that he's found her. You missed your chance to pop her cherry even though you had so many opportunities."

It took Jolyne a few seconds to process his last sentence. When she did, her heart shook.

Damn, did all of them know she was a virgin? f*cking vampires and their obsession with blood and smells. She wanted to punch a wall.

"How did you…"

She could practically hear Donatello's smirk as he responded. "You thought I wouldn't realize? There is something so exquisite about the blood of a virgin. Even more exciting is the prospect of taking it. Really, I should thank you. Despite having passed through both you and that idiot boy's hands, she's still as good as new. Must be fate. Our father wanted to snatch everything from the Joestars, and now it's my duty to steal her away."

Feeling bile rise up her throat, Jolyne restrained herself from going right back in and throwing her fist straight at his face again.

It seemed that her lack of sexual activity had really been made a state issue. She didn't know how she was ever going to be able to look people in the face again.

She felt exposed; it was less about her virginity and more about the whole world knowing about her intimacy, something that should only matter to her and the person she did it with when the time came. As always, Donatello managed to make her feel like an object instead of a person. It was the same thing Romeo had done to her when he tried to make her follow his will, minus the few moments of false happiness.

Engrossed in her own thoughts, Jolyne realized she had missed part of their conversation. It was probably for the better. She didn't think she could take any more disgusting words from him anyway.

With the way Giorno was moving, she could tell his patience had reached its limit too, and he didn't need to hide it now that she wasn't in front of him. If he was thinking of killing Donatello, she wouldn't do anything to stop him. Surely, no one would miss him. However, something still seemed to hold Giorno back. She didn't know what, but if there was anyone capable of restraining himself in such situations, it was him.

Giorno's voice spoke again, with more passion than she heard before. "Jolyne is a person you won't have. Gesù benedetto figlio di Dio Padre, you can't just decide on your own that you're going to have someone. They are... a human being." He paused. "People are not to be owned, least of all her. She deserves someone who will love her regardless of her legacy."

"How chivalrous of you to say that when you find yourself drawn by her blood and to her beauty. Do you even love her?"

"Yes," Giorno said without hesitation. "Because I know her. She is much better than you and me. She's brave and strong, and in spite of everything, goodness still shines in her. So yes, putting aside my desire for her blood, I love her."

Jolyne retracted her string. It was just in time too because one of the advanced students walked past her just then, apparently arriving to stand guard.

She couldn't tell if Giorno had given up on the interrogation, but it was best that the student took his place. They just weren't going to be able to talk to Donatello anyway. She knew Giorno didn't enjoy being cruel, at least not normally, but she didn't doubt that in this case, he would be more than willing to allow his consigliere to torture Donatello as he had promised, right before handing him off to Rohan to read.

She stared at her intact finger as if it was to blame for what she had just heard at the very end, a thousand thoughts circling her head.

Giorno liking her was not news to her, but apparently, he had skipped the path between a crush and full-blown love. Her mom always told her that Italians were very intense people; it seems she wasn't lying.

Knowing Giorno must be coming out soon too, she knew she couldn't stick around with her thoughts in a jumble. It wouldn't bode well if he caught her eavesdropping on him.

Little did she know, Giorno had seen her string and known she was listening from the very beginning.

Chapter 38: Romeo

Chapter Text

Romeo was stressed out in a way he had never been before. He had arrived safely in Rome, only to be kidnapped by his supposed new friend. At first, he thought he was wanted for ransom, but it turned out that he was just a means to get to Jolyne. Donatello, if that was even his real name, wouldn't answer when Romeo asked what he wanted from her, for as far as he knew, she was just an ordinary girl, nothing special.

That liar Donatello actually stuffed him in the trunk of a car and dragged him to Naples where he thought he was going to die until some huge scary guys rescued him. Hours later, they were on some island where they found Jolyne calm and covered in blood, seeming to have beaten up his kidnapper. When she knocked Romeo unconscious, it was almost a relief. Or at least until he woke up again.

The new captors had put him in a little room that looked like something straight out of one of those period soap operas his mom enjoyed, with a huge balcony behind it. It was all very dreamy and vacation-like if it weren't for the fact that he was brought there against his will and he didn't know how he could communicate with his dad to get him out of there. He currently sat on a couch that looked older than he was, even if it was elegant, peeking through the crack between his eyelids at the only other two people in the room as they chatted with each other. Luckily, they hadn't tied him up; it seemed that at least they didn't consider him a threat.

Even though he hurriedly shut his eyes again, the voice of the older lady told him she knew he was awake. She said something about his breathing giving him away, though he swore he wasn't loud.

"Please let me go! My father has plenty of money. He'll give you however much you ask!"

Neither of the two people seemed to pay him any mind.

"I'll tell you whatever you want, but let me go home first!"

"I know you have your plans, Jotaro, but only a few hours ago I made her a promise to beat him up. It's like the spirit of my George and my Joseph have interceded to fulfill a last will before my old bones prevent me from doing something like that."

"I don't believe in that nonsense, witch, but I don't really mind you beating him up," the one called Jotaro replied.

If Romeo had known how the meeting between the old woman and the other huge, serious man was going to go, surely, the idea of being thrown into the sea would not have seemed so unpleasant. Not even the old hags in horror movies were as scary as this old lady, but the huge man was even worse.

"You're related to Jolyne, right?" Romeo said rather frightenedly to Jotaro, who kept looking at him with his classic expression, maybe a little more threatening than usual. "Jolyne and I are… very good friends. Where is she anyway? I want to talk to her. She would never be okay with all of this."

"I'm her father. And I know who you are."

Romeo gulped. He hadn't imagined that Jolyne's dad would be a grumpy giant. He had only known that her parents were divorced and that she hadn't seen him in years. His first meeting with her mom was at her house before the accident and the second was when Marena slapped him by the courthouse door on the day of the trial. No doubt her ex-husband was up to date on that matter.

"N-Nice to meet you, Mr. Kujo."

"Frankly, the feeling isn't mutual," Jotaro said with a tone even more curt than usual. Next to him, the old lady sipped her tea, looking at him with the same contempt.

"Our Jolyne is a lovely young lady. Intelligent, kind, good, strong, and beautiful." She drilled Romeo with her gaze. "I thought that being a bit prone to buffoonery like my Joseph and just as headstrong was her biggest flaw, but I see she had a much worse one hidden."

Romeo began to almost wistfully think back to when he was locked in the trunk. When Jolyne appeared, he was the gladdest he had ever been to see her. Everyone in the room turned their attention to her instead.

"Your disciple offered to stand watch, but nothing much happened anyway. Giorno just talked to Donatello and I broke his nose. He won't be telling us anything substantial until Rohan arrives. Speaking of, have you questioned this guy?" She refused the tea that the old lady offered her. "I swear that whenever I forget that you're English, I remember again because you're always drinking that stuff."

"Joliet!" Romeo said. "I don't know what's going on, but some guy pretended to be my friend and then he kidnapped me."

"You're as clueless as ever." Jolyne turned to her dad. "Can we send him on the first flight back to the states? Even if it's as animal cargo, that's fine too."

"That's not very funny." Romeo tried to smile, unsure if she was joking. The Jolyne who had been his girlfriend would say that as a joke, but the woman in front of him, who had not yet cleaned up after the battle, seemed perfectly capable of carrying out what she said. And he may have given her reason to do so too.

It didn't take long before another one of his ex-saviors joined them, a tall man with blonde hair that flowed down his shoulders. Rather than the tracksuit worn by others on the island, he was fully dressed in a flamboyant attire and ornaments, like shown in mafia movies. He had to be one of those criminals who kidnapped top designers to serve them exclusively. Romeo was almost positive that his hair had to have extensions too. And were those pectorals made of silicone? He wasn't sure, but he was willing to bet on it.

The blonde criminal went directly to the old lady, to whom he began to speak in Italian after bowing respectfully to her.

"I don't believe we've been introduced, Mrs. Joestar. My name is Giorno Giovanna." He gave her a gentlemanly kiss on the hand. "I've heard of you, but I've never had the honor of meeting you in person."

"The pleasure is mine," the old lady replied. "I've heard a lot about Passione. I know it's changed since you became its don."

Romeo wasn't really listening to what they were saying. There was something about the blonde man, Giorno Giovanna, that seemed awfully familiar. He soon realized where he recognized him from. For the past couple of weeks, he had stared at and cursed at the picture Jolyne had sent him of her with that other man, the same one that happened to be standing before him now.

"Hey, I know you!" Romeo pointed accusingly. "You're from the picture, the new boyfri..."

Before he could finish, he felt something thin and very long press into his arm, quickly wrapping around it. The string-like thing, which he couldn't see, tightened before he suddenly felt an electric shock-like sensation course through him and his mind went blank. He didn't have time to feel relieved when the invisible string loosened because he suddenly lost complete control over his arm. He found himself forming a fist and then punching himself harder than he thought he was capable of, breaking his nose on the spot. A scream escaped him.

"You're up against noses today, are you? Not that I blame you. Were you capable of doing this before?" Giorno was not at all fazed by the other man's cries of pain or the smell of fresh blood even though he had been neglecting his special feeding. He was more mindful of Jolyne's response. "No? Well, it seems that combining your Hamon techniques with your Stand ability is making your own Stand grow. Congratulations."

"If done carefully, mixing together something as versatile as Hamon and your strings can make you very formidable, even among Stand users." Jolyne's dad patted her on the shoulder. "Not to mention you can play tricks like this on imbecile non-stand users without them being any the wiser."

"I don't know what happened at all, but I think a congratulations is in order," said the old lady. "I think you're the first person since my Joseph to possess a Stand while also handling Hamon. Looks like your abilites have grown to a point where you're able to physically manipulate your opponent. I'm very proud to have a descendant as capable as you."

Jolyne seemed deaf to Romeo's moans of pain, her eyes watering at the old woman's words.

"When Bruno comes, you should use this same trick on him. Let him have a taste of what it's like for someone to manipulate your body without permission," Giorno suggested to her, making her smile. That smile reminded Romeo of the one she used to give him, though this was much more relaxed.

"Oh, f*ck, yeah. He played so many tricks on me when I was training with him. I'm going to return the favor!"

"I have no doubt it's a magnificent ability," the old lady said, "but I think you forgot to turn it off, if you know what I mean. You should release it if you're still using Hamon. You could hurt him, but more importantly, you'll exhaust yourself even more than you already have after having used a lot throughout the day." She glanced at Romeo as he struggled to move his fist away from his face.

"Oh, I think..." Jolyne mimicked the movement she did a moment ago, but this time Romeo noticed that he regained control of his arm. As the string loosened around his arm and let go, his arm felt a little heavy, no longer having any support. She paused, thinking about something. "Dad, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Ham-on? Stands? Romeo didn't know about all of that, and he didn't care. Seeing Jolyne leave the room with her scary father, he began to feel panicked.

He shrank in on himself and almost screamed when Giorno Giovanna approached him, with the old lady laughing behind him. His nose somehow healed amid cries of pain.

Air Suplena had several rooms for study but only one for relaxing while watching TV, so Jolyne was surprised to learn that the other disciples didn't stop by often. This meant it was usually free for her and Shizuka when they weren't crawling off to sleep. Hence, she was sure that room, which was right next to Lisa Lisa's chambers that they had just exited, would be empty. Thanks to the sound proofing, it was perfect for having a private conversation.

Shutting the door behind them, she faced her dad.

"There's something you should know," she began.

Jolyne wanted to have a better relationship with him and be more open but not so much that she had to tell him how her relationship with Giorno was going. It was best to embellish that a bit.

Gosh, hopefully this would be easier to spin than when facing her mom.

"You know the whole story about the car accident with Romeo and the framing, right? So, apparently, Romeo now claims to feel sorry for selling me out, and he constantly tried to contact me through my social media. I tried to tell him off, but he wouldn't listen. It was getting real annoying, so I messaged him and lied about having a boyfriend. Since he didn't believe it and acted all co*cky, I showed him 'proof' by sending him a picture of me standing next to someone better-looking than him, which happened to be Giorno. So…"

The few seconds he stared at her seemed like eternity. Jolyne began to worry that she had underestimated her old man's knowledge of social media use and that he would be able to pick out the flaws in her story.

"I see," he finally mumbled after a long while. "I don't trust that that boy would have kept quiet and not spread his knowledge about your so-called boyfriend everywhere. Good grief, that's one more annoying problem we didn't count on."

"Yeah, that's exactly it!"

Then, Jotaro suddenly turned and walked back to the living room where a hushed Giorno and Lisa Lisa were discussing the lack of cleanliness in the canals. Jolyne couldn't see, but a nervous Romeo was tied to the seat with a grapevine created by Giorno.

She feared the worst when Jotaro called Giorno, asking him to accompany him for a moment. Was he going to smack Giorno?

She didn't think her dad could hurt him much when Giorno had the Requiem and all... Could he?

As soon as Giorno entered the adjacent room, Jotaro started talking. He went straight to the point.

"Giovanna, there's a little problem. The kid in that room who Donatello used to mislead us is my daughter's ex-boyfriend. It seems he came all the way here from the US to romantically pursue her, indirectly creating this whole mess. Jolyne says he's been very persistent, not leaving her social media alone, so to get him off her back, she lied to him about having a new boyfriend. Which is you."

Giorno gave her a quick side eye before turning back to Jotaro. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps words to calm Jotaro down, but her dad didn't give him time.

"I don't know if it's too much trouble for you to pretend it's true. It'll help us get a rich brat like him under control."

Jolyne guessed that Giorno must have spent a lifetime practicing being expressionless because it was impressive that his only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. The last thing either of them expected was for her own dad to ask him to go out with her, even if it was in a pretend way.

She couldn't have known about the many things that crossed Giorno's mind, like the desire to tell her father that he was just a method actor or that Giorno could even keep up the act until it was time to give him a few grandchildren.

"It isn't a bad idea," Giorno finally said. "Men like him only give in to another man. Otherwise, he'll keep bothering Jolyne and making everyone's job more difficult."

"Besides, while we erase her records, it's good to have an excuse for what she's been doing here all this time," Jotaro said, considering the idea. "Something like making a passionate, youthful decision to go meet a boyfriend's family in Italy, from which she learned a lot, like a new language and customs of that culture. It would look good on a college application too."

"I agree, Dr. Kujo," Giorno said seriously. "However, I am a busy man. I have something to attend to in Venice. If you want my help in keeping up the act, Jolyne will have to come along with me."

There was a small bout of silence, then all the cordiality between the two men seemed to vanish all at once. Jolyne looked at them both for a few moments before sighing in boredom at the display of testosterone.

"Do you have a house in Venice too?" she asked to break the ice.

"This is not the time to talk about real estate," Jotaro said. "From what he's suggested, it's clear he wants to interrupt your training as if he has any say in this."

"I didn't say I wanted to interrupt anything, signore. I can manage from Venice, but I can't miss any meetings, no matter how delicate the situation with Donatello is. My business is important to too many people. Besides, in all the time that Jolyne was with me, they were not able to get that close to her. I have more than enough means to protect her effectively. So, please don't blow things out of proportion." He turned to Jolyne. "Of course, I have a house in Venice. A palazzo, in fact. I have many properties around Italy and a few scattered around the world. It's the norm in my profession."

"She's not going to be any safer with you than with me, Giovanna," Jotaro interjected again.

The two men proceeded to stare each other down.

Jolyne was tired. She had been overcome by difficult situation many times, but on this occasion, she was literally tired. Exhausted. Not just mentally, but physciall too, as she had fought a Pillar Man and a vampire just before, using Hamon for a prolonged period of time. If she passed out, would they fight over who carried her to rest? She knew they would, and that caused her to growl in frustration. She was stuck between two of the most powerful Stand users in the world.

With a history of conflict behind them, the situation would be dangerous for anyone. Right now, she was actually thinking of kicking both of their asses.

"Uh, excuse me, who was it again who stopped that vampire bastard?" she said, not wanting to say Donatello's name aloud because of the disgusting feelings she feared it might insight in her. "Until you guys showed up like you were some kind of saviors, I was holding the fort by myself pretty well. So, f*ck you both. I'm not a baby in need of protection." She folded her arms and looked at them alternately in disdain. "Give me a break. Are you going to fight like complete assholes, or are you going to let me have my say? Because may I remind you, Mr. Mob Don, that I am not one of your superordinates. And Dad, I'm an adult."

Both men mumbled an apology to the most important person in both of their lives. Jolyne had always been strong, but there was a kind of new resolve in her that was palpable. Giorno found her sublime. Jotaro thought that perhaps she was spending too much time with Lisa Lisa.

"If you guys are done being jerks, let's be reasonable. It seems pointless to do all this just to try to calm that asshole down. First, it doesn't make sense for me to suddenly stop training. I mean, I hate it with all my soul, but hell, its effective. Second, even if I could easily come for training all the way from Venice, it begins in the wee hours of the morning and there's no way in hell I'm leaving before dawn for it. Besides, Giorno, don't you have to go back to Rome?"

At that moment, Giorno had an image of Fugo saying that he couldn't just leave without further ado for Venice. Luckily, since it was to help Jolyne, Abbacchio had been on his side and told him that anyone who needed to see the Don could take a few hours' drive to see him; that's what the f*cking Don was for. Bucciarati would meet him in Rome, but the others would stay there. Feeling sorry for anyone who insisted on the imperative need for an urgent appointment, he had seen to it that Leone Abbacchio, with Panacotta Fugo as secretary, would receive those who wanted a meeting and were unwilling to go to Venice. He was sure that most would either lose their haste or claim that Venice was too beautiful a place not to go to when they found out. So yes, he could do it.

"Sometimes, I have to spend periods of time in Naples, Florence, or here in Venice, so it's normal. Don't worry about it," Giorno replied with a totally unconcerned expression.

"Ok, then what if I keep training a few days a week but take a day off to go to Venice with my 'boyfriend'?"

"Jolyne, I don't know if..."

"Mrs. Marena called me to say she's coming to Venice too," Giorno interrupted. "She also told me to inform you that she's coming whether you like it or not."

Jolyne smiled triumphantly. Anyone thinking of Jotaro Kujo and how to defeat him would think of elaborate plans or powerful Stands, but Jolyne knew that if she wanted calm, without her father interfering too much, she had the ultimate weapon on her side. Marena Regio Kujo knew how to neutralize the invincible Jotaro Kujo better than any Requiem arrow.

At the end of the day, Giorno departed to his Venice mansion. He had to supervise everything for the arrival of the guests even though he did not at all like the idea of going far away from where Donatello was being held. Although he had made sure that the monster was well-guarded several times, he was not at ease and communicated with them several times by phone.

Bruno arrived with a spirited Marena the next day. As her appearance made clear, her family was from Venetto, so it was like going back to her roots. As for Bruno, well, he had a lot of painful memories in Venice that he was trying to overcome, but overall, he was doing well. At least he could handle Venice, unlike Sardinia, which seemed impossible.

Having Bruno around was a God-send. Jolyne didn't want to disturb anyone when she woke up feeling dirty from dreams triggered by Donatello's blood, but he was always willing to beat her mind clear.

As plans were being made for Rohan, the other key, to arrive as well, they were rejected by Lisa Lisa, who refused to allow him entry onto Air Suplena. Having heard stories about Rohan Kishibe, the old woman was extremely wary and distrustful. Too many favors had already been granted to the Joestar family with the entry of people who did not practice Hamon, and they had endured enough having Donatello on the island.

According to the laws of Hamon, Donatello was still a vampiric beast. His attack had left several wounded and he had even killed one of the instructors on his way, so most of the disciples clamored for him to be executed. They were only so willing to hand him over to Giorno because they knew that it would mean a fate far worse than death for Donatello. Even if they were still hurting from the loss, perhaps having him away and knowing that he was going to pay for his actions would help them return the island to the peaceful place it had been before. With that said, they didn't have the time and resources to deal with a potentially dangerous enigma like Rohan.

Despite Jotaro's reluctance, they had to settle for transfering their captive to a cell in Giorno's Venice palazzo.

The day of Donatello's transfer quickly arrived. It was a sunny morning; Weather Report had made sure of that. Giorno did not like the weather, as he remembered the sun shining hopefully against the sky the day they found Abbacchio dead. He had woken up with a dark foreboding. When he arrived at Air Suplena, Donatello's calm smile sent shivers down his spine. Giorno knew something was going to happen, and he was going crazy not knowing what it was going to be.

Chapter 39: Shadow Moses

Chapter Text

Jolyne lost count of how many times she'd yawned while standing there on the harbor under the morning sun. It must have been a considerable amount because her dad and Giorno would shoot her concerned looks from time to time. She waved them off, having no intention of explaining to them that her sleep-deprived body was functioning entirely on too much coffee and weeks' worth of pent up rage and frustration. Wet dreams and bloody kisses didn't exactly seem like good topics for starter conversations so early in the morning either.

Trying to expel Donatello's cursed blood from her body with her Hamon had failed, so since that night, she was left to endure those damned dreams. Only an hour or so after hitting the sack, she would wake up disturbed and covered in cold sweat, feeling the intense urge to cleanse herself in gallons of ice cold holy water.

Bruno's sparring sessions helped exhaust her enough that some nights, she would immediately fall into a dreamless sleep after one of their sessions. However, other nights, the dreams still crept up on her, and she would wake up a while later, her body hot and drenched in sweat. On those nights, she tried using some of the mediation techniques she had learned from Lisa Lisa that were meant to conserve energy and provided the same restorative benefits as sleep. She would do this on her bed for the remainder of the night until it was dawn and time to get up for training. It was effective for the most part but still couldn't substitute for actual sleep. It didn't do anything for the intrusive thoughts or the slight feelings of excitement either.

Jolyne was ready to get rid of Donatello from her life once and for all. She hated him, plain and simple. He had caused her family immense grief, leading them to a long separation, and he was all too proud to announce his sinister intentions for her. Thinking about what he had said back in his cell about how hard his life had been, she was even more certain that any empathy would be wasted on a self-pitying asshole like him who blamed the world for his misfortunes.

These past few days, knowing that he was on the same island as her had made her constantly on edge and filled her stomach with butterflies. She would feel better once it was Giorno's problem. And maybe when they finished interrogating him, they could get rid of him for complete good. It was a strangely dark thought, and perhaps a few months ago, she would have found the idea of a life being ended quite upsetting, but too much had changed since then and so did her outlook on life.

"Is Bucciarati already at his post?" her dad suddenly asked her.

"Yeah, he came as soon as he could. It's weird, but..." She stopped talking when she saw Weather Report staring at the horizon instead of the main building like the others. "Hey, is something wrong?"

Weather Report shrugged, continuing to keep his eyes fixed straight ahead. Jolyne tried following his gaze but could not find anything out of the ordinary, just clear blue skies. Perhaps he was sensing something she was not with his stand ability.

A movement suddenly caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Seeing three people emerge from the main building, everyone became extra alert.

Donatello, flanked by two uniformed senior Hamon disciples on either side, stood out like a sore thumb in his white suit and red leather jacket as he limped out of the building. The platinum chain jewelry around his neck glinted in the sun, similar to the silver chains imbued with Hamon that wrapped around his torso and bound his arms at the back. Despite the sorry state he was in from his time in the dingy cell, his blonde hair disheveled and his clothes looking wrinkled and stained, he couldn't seem to stop smiling.

Jolyne took a deep breath, breaking away her gaze for a moment.

She was not afraid. She could do it. Whatever she had witnessed and endured in her dreams, none of it was reality. No one was privy to the contents but her.

When she turned back, she found Donatello squinting at the sky, seeming briefly bothered by the sun. However, he stopped paying attention to it when he caught sight of her.

"Oh dear, I missed you. Since you were so close, you could have come by to visit me more… I know you wanted to."

Jolyne's face contorted in disgust but she didn't bother to reply. Paying him any attention at all would be giving him exactly what he wanted.

Ignoring him, she said to the others, "Shall we go now?"

They had already made all the preparations, so they quickly boarded the boat that would take them to Venice. It was a small draft boat that could enter as far as Giorno's palazzo in Venice without any problems. The group transporting Donatello consisted of the two Hamon disciples, her dad, Weather Report, Giorno, and herself. It was not a large committee, but it was everyone necessary.

In good environmental conditions and with not too much cruise ship traffic, the job could be done in half an hour. The weather was nice, even nicer than what was forecasted thanks to Weather Report. Still, Donatello seemed quite calm, too calm for someone whose stand ability would be rendered useless on sea, where he couldn't unearth memories. It gave Jolyne a strange feeling as she watched him board the boat, stranger than what she had felt since her meeting with Bruno that morning.

The space on the vessel was much more enclosed than on the harbor, so everyone was more closely packed together. This also meant Donatello was in much closer proximity to her than she would have preferred, which was actually to keep a continent's worth of distance away. When he caught her looking at him, he grinned and blew her a kiss.

Jolyne shuddered, both at his action and the unwanted feelings it had stirred within her. She immediately turned her back to him, feeling his gaze drill into her as she put more distance between them, as much as the enclosed space would allow.

She was glad she had chosen to throw on a large sweatshirt that morning for the trip. Having a roomy layer of clothing somewhat helped alleviate the crawling gaze.

As they left the harbor, her dad was at her side, putting a hand on her shoulder. Feeling him so close gave her a bit of reassurance, as did Giorno's look of concern that constantly flitted from her to his brother, who continued to be flanked by the two Hamon disciples.

She couldn't wait for it all to be over.

The journey went smoothly at first, with no note-worthy incidents happening along the way. The sea's cool breeze was comforting, and she enjoyed how the icy seawater sprayed on her face when she stood close to the edge. Catching the serious but serene expression on her dad's face beside her, she even allowed herself a moment to wonder if this was part of the allure of his job for him.

She began to feel hopeful that she was just being paranoid until, ten minutes into traveling on the half path, they heard a thud and felt the boat lurch beneath their feet, as though the hull had hit something huge in the water.

Jolyne hadn't been on too many boats in her lifetime to tell for sure whether something like that would be normal or not, but her high-strung nerves put her on guard immediately. It seemed that she wasn't the only one, as the others around her also tensed, standing straighter. No one uttered the words 'Stand attack' but everyone thought it, recognizing the signs. Seeing the grim expression on her dad's face, who was far more experienced than her in both fighting stand users and traveling on water, she became far more convinced.

Peering into the blue sea, it didn't take long before bubbles began to rise from its depths, warning of the presence of something beneath. Jolyne hadn't really known what to expect but certainly not the sight of strange creatures submerged just beneath the surface. She felt as if she were in a movie and not reality. No way were sea monsters real. But then she wouldn't be able to explain what she witnessed next.

From the depths of the sea emerged blue octupus-like creatures that had only two tentacles and a head crowned with red jewels. If the jewels were not a clear enough clue that they were not from this world, then there was the fact that they looked like they had come straight out of a cartoon. To top it off, the creatures emitted an unnatural sound, like a pre-recorded, studio-generated roar.

"What the hell are those creatures?" asked Giorno, who probably had entire encyclopedias about marine biology memorized.

"f*ck, are those pokemon?" said Jolyne.

"Tentacool," replied Jotaro without hesitation. "First, they threw Super Mario enemies at us and now pokemon."

Even though the creatures didn't seem to be very difficult enemies to defeat, just as the gombas hadn't been, they manifested their Stands, as the environment the group moved in was disadvantageous. Her dad looked ready to jump out of the boat and fight in the water, but she asked him to wait.

"Guys, we should turn the Stand user over to Nintendo's lawyers so he knows the real terror when we catch him," Jolyne told them, managing to hit the pokemon with a fishing rod she had found in the warehouse room. "Venice is starting to appear on the horizon. Should we stop?"

They didn't have much time to think about it because as soon as she finished speaking, they heard a noisy whirring sound overhead that grew loud with each second. A glance at the sky showed a helicopter heading their way, though perhaps it was simply passing by. It wasn't something necessarily unordinary, but Jolyne's gut told her to exercise caution.

She stole a glance at Giorno and saw him frowning as he gazed up.

"Helicopters aren't often given permission to fly over Venice," he said aloud. "Stay on your guards, everyone. It's terribly suspicious."

By air and water, they could only wait for the enemy to approach. Another creature attacked the boat, this time not a tentacool but something similar, though much bigger, almost the size of a kraken. The evolution seemed to follow the patterns of the anime, making the tentacruel a huge beast with even more tentacles. It was much more dangerous and, certainly, more intimidating than the small tentacool. With a mighty swing of one of its tentacles, it knocked Jotaro clean off the boat.

"Dad!" She leaned out to peer over the edge.

"Jolyne, please stay away from the gunwale," said Weather Report. "Remember, Mr. Kujo is an expert swimmer."

He was right; she had almost forgotten that her old man was practically born to traverse the sea. As if summoned, a purple-jacketed figure emerged, punching with both his Stand and his own fist at the tentacruel. It wasn't the weirdest thing she had ever seen her dad do, but she was sure it made the top 10.

The downside about keeping an eye on him was that Jolyne stopped paying attention to the helicopter. Someone approached the gunwale beside her, leaning dangerously close to the edge, their knuckles turning pale as their hands clenched on the railing tight. It was Weather Report, the same person who had advised Jolyne to stay away from the gunwale only a moment ago. He gazed at the helicopter with sharp, unblinking eyes, surprising even her with his level of deep focus.

Had he spotted someone he recognized inside? She already had her suspicions on who it might be.

She tried squinting into the helicopter through her bangs that were swaying wildly due to the suddenly strong winds, but it was too high. The helicopter seemed to have also slowed down and now hovered aboved their boat, proving their suspicions correct.

"Pucci."

She shot Weather Report a look, her breath catching in her throat.

"What? How do you know?" she asked.

"I just do."

His gaze turned stormy. The winds around them suddenly began to pick up fiercely, making the waves more and more choppy as everything began to cloud over. The blue sky darkened to a gray, and there was even the sound of thunder not far away.

Jolyne didn't have time to doubt or question what he meant. Whether or not Father Pucci was really in the aircraft, which was a grave matter of its own, it looked like the boat would sink if Weather Report didn't calm down quickly.

Keeping his eyes glued on the helicopter buzzing above their heads, Weather Report suddenly stepped back and made his way to the other edge of the boat, where the helicopter was closer.

"f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck," she muttered.

As she followed after Weather Report, Giorno caught on and went to the position she was in to try and help Jotaro, although he seemed to be managing quite well.

Too focused on the dangers outside their boat, Jolyne had practically forgotten all about the ones lurking within.

It all happened before she realized it. Although Donatello had been locked up for days and perhaps even beaten, as indicated by the bruises on his face and the limp in his gait, his wounds had mostly healed. Hence, it took him no more than a moment of pain to dislocate his arms and free himself from the chains.

Her only warning as she passed by was the thud of the Hamon disciples' bodies hitting the floor or railing as they were shoved aside before a hand suddenly grabbed her waist.

Whipping her head around, she came face to face with Donatello's red eyes that seemed to be taken from the most terrifying of monsters and his feral grin. An atavistic fear ran through her in the few tenths of seconds before his sharp teeth brutally pierced her neck.

A bite hurt, but a bite to the neck hurt even more. A ragged scream escaped her. The others turned, even Jotaro, who had heard her all the way from the water. The scream only lasted a moment, however, before Donatello let go, pushing her away. Regaining her balance and grabbing onto the railing of the rocking boat, Jolyne turned and watched him double over, spitting out thick, purplish-blue blood.

"That's what you get for biting without asking."

Despite the dire situation, she had to suppress a snicker that threatened to escape when she saw Donatello lift his head and flash his red eyes at her, his body trembling uncontrollably. A choked, gurgling sound came from him, and he spat more of the strange blood.

Jolyne grabbed her neck and pulled off her sweatshirt, intending to use it to apply pressure on her wound, leaving herself in just a tanktop. The body peeking through her top was much tanner than her face. Underneath the fabric, a padded bra sat on her completely flat chest. Although she had a marked waist, she looked quite masculine.

"How is it? Is it your first time dining on corpse blood? Bruno specially asks for your rating."

Donatello fell to his knees on the ground, now vomiting. If he had been a full-fledged vampire, that would have knocked him out completely. The corpse blood from Bruno's body was the perfect poison to hurt a vampire. She couldn't believe his idea had actually worked.

Seeing him fall, the pokemon began to appear everywhere, closing in more aggressively. To make matters worse, Weather Report had not calmed down and the situation was becoming even more dangerous for them on the boat.

"Signore Report, if you don't stop, the boat is going to sink!" Giorno shouted.

Weather Report seemed too focused on the helicopter to pay any attention to anyone. Sometimes, she forgot how truly terrifying of a power the normally calm man had.

The boat began to lurch dangerously and the sea became choppier, causing her dad to succumb to the attacks of the tentacruel and sink into the sea. Just like that, Jolyne went from feeling victorious to watching the world sink all at once.

Looking up, she saw a face appear in one of the windows of the helicopter. It was still too far away for her to see clearly, but she was almost certain it was the priest. Even all the way from the boat, she could feel his mocking gaze on her, his very posture exuding arrogance.

She felt rage heat her blood, but instead of being swept up in the intense emotion, it was Hamon that began to form in her despite being in a foreign body. The lungs of a reanimated corpse didn't work exactly the same, but she knew she had to try when the moment was ripe.

The decision to go in Weather Report's direction instead of her dad's had been a difficult one to make, but she was confident that her old man would be able to get out on his own. He always found a way to come back to her.

She charged straight at Weather Report, who seemed to be in his own little bubble. Without even raising a shout or trying to talk to him, she smacked him in the back of the neck. The blow seemed to bring him back to himself, just as the storm that hard started began to die down again.

Now, to get her dad out of the water.

A deafening roar sounded from the other side of the boat. Jolyne watched with a gaping mouth as the sea burst open, letting out a huge, raging Gyarados, a giant blue oriental-style sea dragon, with Jotaro Kujo mounted on top. He wasted no time charging straight towards the rogue Tentacruel. Star Platinum tore the huge pokemon apart with a flurry of blows of which only half would have been necessary.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the boat, she saw Giorno glowing in the golden light of his stand as he faced off against other sea pokemon. Whichever ones so much as aimed an attack against him would disappear in that instant.

With a weapon as powerful as Gold Experience Requiem at his disposal, Jolyne wondered why it was taking him so long to deal with all of the creatures at once. That's when she noticed new pokeomon suddenly popping up, taking the place of those that had disappeared, although making it double.

Glancing back at the helicopter, she saw someone peeking out from behind Pucci's figure, watching the battle below. She couldn't see him well at all, though he seemed smaller and more hunched over than the priest. It wasn't long before he moved over to the helicopter's open door, holding something in his hands. The greenish thing in his hand unleashed two whips that shot straight down into the boat. They latched onto Donatello's legs and wrapped around him, all the while avoiding the chains around his torso. Jolyne realized with a start that the whips were actually leafy vines. Tracing them back to the man in the helicopter door, she was finally able to make out that he was holding a bulbasaur.

It was obvious that he was the one behind this bizarre phenomenon. Without a doubt, that user was the missing son of DIO, Ungalo.

The vines did their job, towing Donatello up, and it looked like he was going to escape again.

"Oh no you f*cking don't."

Jolyne hadn't put herself through all that harsh training just to let herself fail like that. Grabbing a coil of thick rope tucked away to the side, she did quick work of making a noose she had practiced tying numerous times with her strings. Then, with all the strength in her arms, or rather Bruno's arms, she began to move the lasso in a circular motion before tossing it hard. As it flew through the air, she poured her Hamon energy into it, forcing it to follow the trajectory of her will, which was toward Donatello's bloodsplattered torso.

Donatello, who seemed only half-conscious by that point, looked startled as he suddenly found himself trapped in her noose, the rope tightening around him over his silver chains.

"Overdrive!" she shouted.

She knew the borrowed body wasn't going to work the same as her own, but she hoped imbuing the silver chains with a new surge of Hamon would at least stall him long enough until one of the others could come to her aid.

To her elation, not only did Donatello's body squirm before going limp, but his upward trajectory stopped as well. It seemed that her sparks had run up the leafy vine and also affected his brother, who was pulling him up. Jolyne wasted no time, taking the opportunity to pull hard on the rope, tugging Donatello back down in the boat's direction.

Not long after, when she had caused the body to dip a couple of meters closer to her, she felt some resistance and knew it could only mean that Ungalo had gotten over his momentary shock and was now resuming his efforts to pull Donatello back up.

For a moment, the unconscious Donatello was tugged up and down like a rag doll as two people on either end battled for supremacy. Jolyne was impressed that the bulbasaur's leafy vine was able to hold out for as long as it had. Although it looked as though both parties were of equal strength, gravity worked in her favor, so she managed to slowly inch the body a little lower toward her end.

Just then, as she looked up to check the helicopter, she saw Pucci pull something from his body. He threw the object out the window, too fast for her to completely follow its trajectory with the naked eye, though she noticed a nearby flock of seagulls and how one of them cried out. She waited for something to happen, but they continued to circle in the air as the seconds stretched into a minute. Just when she began to doubt her assumption, the temperature in the area took a dive.

Wearing nothing on her upper body but the tanktop, Jolyne couldn't help but shiver and had the urge to hug herself for warmth. That would mean letting go of the rope, however, which she refused to do. Gritting her teeth against the freezing temperature, she instead concentrated completely on pulling Donatello further down.

She had underestimated Pucci's attack, thinking his intention was only to make her freeze. Before she knew it, a haze began to arise in the air and little translucent squares began to fall from the sky. Not having expected them, she wasn't able to dodge fast enough when one square fell near her and grazed her arm, passing through with a holographic touch. She heard the sizzling sound before she felt an excruciating pain that caused her to cry out and let go. Seeing bone poking out of her injured arm, she realized the square had melted part of the flesh in its path.

With her no longer dangerously tethering Donatello to the boat, the helicopter was able to take off at full speed, taking his unconscious body with it. The sea battles around her continued, but Jolyne could only watch the helicopter that carried their escaped prisoner get further and further away.

"I can shoot it down," Weather Report whispered from beside her.

Jolyne realized for the first time what he had been up to the whole time during her little tug of war game. Storm clouds were brewing overhead in the horizon, cackling with electricity. Weather Report seemed completely serious as he looked at her, awaiting a response.

She immediately shook her head, rejecting his idea. No matter how desperately she wanted to reverse the situation, it was too dangerous for everyone. She had never seen him this way before, the way he seemed far more obsessed with throwing the opponent down than he was with his own life and the lives of his teammates. For the first time since she'd known him, Weather Report scared her.

Only when the helicopter was a speck in the horizon did the sea finally start to calm, no more sea creatures popping up to replace those they got rid of that were making trouble for them. The boat was silent, rocking gently in the calm waves.

Jotaro simply adjusted his cap that miraculously hadn't been lost underwater. Giorno was quickly at Jolyne's side, seeing her numbly holding her burnt arm—technically, Bruno's. She gritted her teeth against the pain as he regrew the skin cells in her arm; her addled brain wondered if Bruno was feeling the pain back on the island too or if he got a pass since she was borrowing his body at the moment.

A wave of nausea suddenly hit her. She didn't know if it came with having her head attached to a body that wasn't her own for too long, especially one that was not quite alive, or if it was just the crushing defeat sinking in.

They set course back to Air Suplena to fetch Jolyne's body and return Bruno his. Giorno had given her his expensive jacket to cover up, which she had soon turned into a bloody rag, but he didn't seem to mind. He was much more focused on her being okay despite the bizarreness of her current state.

In fact, she really wasn't okay, as her nausea hadn't abated at all. Her physical state was nothing next to what she had felt: fear. It was not simply being scared—what she had felt was a sense of paralyzing fear, the likes of which she believed an adult could no longer feel. Being paralyzed for those tenths of a second could have made all the difference in how things played out. Had they not predicted that such an escape was possible and planned ahead for the contingency, Donatello would have undoubtedly stolen her blood and probably more.

The feeling actually got worse the more she dwelled on the fact that the man who wanted to hunt her had escaped and was on the loose again. She would have to be alert at all times from now on, even within the island, as he had already proven that he was capable of sneaking in. There was really no saying when he would appear again or where.

'Well, it won't be for a little while at least.'

She tried to be optimistic, thinking about a poisoned Donatello hiding in a ditch somewhere licking his wounds, but at the moment, it didn't bring her much relief.

As they neared the island, her dad explained to her that with a little luck, they could find the helicopter and track down Pucci along with the two brothers. Jolyne was going to grumpily retort that it was pointless, that there was no way Pucci would have used that mode of transportation if he didn't have a way to cover their tracks when she noticed Jotaro's tired eyes watching her carefully. She suddenly realized he was trying to cheer her up. That in itself warmed her heart more than any of the words he had just spoken to her.

"The truth is, seeing you riding a water pokemon is something I used to think you did when I was a kid," Jolyne said to him.

"It wasn't really the worst fight I've ever had," he replied with a very slight smile, though only for a second.

There was silence between them, but this time a more comfortable kind.

Jolyne would have been content to leave it at just that, but of course, that wasn't exactly her style.

"I guess at least we've learned quite a few things in this fight," she said. "First, we confirmed that the blood of the dead works as an effective poison even if it isn't used against a full-fledged vampire. Second, we gained more knowledge on the missing brother and his Stand; it's safe to say his ability can also be overridden by Gold Experience Requiem. As an added bonus, thanks to his ability, Dad even fulfilled his secret dream. Third and finally, I've realized the Leone Abbacchio experience."

"What do you mean?" asked Giorno.

"I've become one with Bruno Bucciarati."

Chapter 40: Take Me To Church

Chapter Text

"I'm not playing hooky," Jolyne said earnestly to Shizuka. "Me pretending to skip training a couple of days a week is part of our plan to try to attract the enemies' attention."

"Dating and shopping at one of the most expensive and beautiful cities in the world for the sake of your mission? Yeah, you seem upset to be going out with Giorno," Shizuka replied in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, it's not my fault that the closest thing to Air Suplena is Venice," crooned Jolyne. "Did you know that Giorno's Venice palazzo has whirlpool showers?"

Amidst complaints from Shizuka, Jolyne finished collecting the few things she was going to take with her to Venice. As far as she knew, they were going to transfer all her belongings from Rome directly, so there was no point in packing anything, not that she was going to need her training clothes there. Or at least she hoped that she wouldn't. Knowing Lisa Lisa, she didn't doubt that the old woman was capable of packing her gym equipment so that she wouldn't be able to avoid training even while away.

In that case, maybe she would regret leaving behind her training clothes, which led a huge doubt to gnaw inside her. Were there any sportswear stores in Venice? From what she had seen, it was only a place full of museums and houses for the ultra rich. She had no doubt that there would be stores, but not for normal clothes. She wouldn't be able to enter a Target and buy a tracksuit and sneakers. Although, knowing Giorno, he was capable of showing her a hyper-luxury mall that sold sportswear worn by princesses and European royalty. As she thought about it, something Trish had told her came to mind. She was supposed to be something like a European noblewoman, a Lady Joestar.

Considering all the mess that had been going on in her life since.... well, months ago, and especially now since Donatello's escape, she was looking forward to seeing Giorno. Among other things, she knew he would respect her enough to tell her what was going on and what they planned to do from there on out.

Shizuka waved goodbye to her as she boarded the boat that would take her to Venice. It was not the same one they had used to transport Donatello but a much bigger one with more personnel. When the boat arrived at the halfway path, her mood couldn't help but dip as she stared at the water where they had failed their mission.

Upon arriving at the harbor, she almost felt like a celebrity when she was personally escorted by people in black suits, her bodyguards. It seemed her plan to arrive discreetly at the new palazzo so that she could change out of her training suit before anyone saw her was up in flames. The escorts almost seemed disappointed that she didn't carry several suitcases; the few of them were too many just to attend to one person.

They had prepared another boat for her but one of those that moved through the canals, driven by someone at the bow. Jolyne, along with the bodyguards, sailed away from the main canals, going to the area where some of the wealthiest residences in the city were located. The boat moved fast and traffic became more sparse the more expensive the homes they passed became, so she safely arrived at the palazzo's pier in less than a dozen minutes.

After Jolyne stepped out of the boat, it started moving again, taking with it the bodyguards whom were probably off to attend to other duties.

She found her mom waiting for her past the entrance. Even though Jolyne was dressed very unbecomingly for a 17th century palace full of original frescoes, none of that mattered to Marena, who went right over to hug her.

"It's weird how this is the most normal place where we've met recently," said Marena, raising an eyebrow. "But anyway, you look thinner, although more toned. Have you been eating well on that magic island?"

"It's not a magic island," said Jolyne. "What's taught is Hamon, not magic. It's.... well, maybe it could be called magic. But the place is a normal private island with facilities designed by someone who might have been a crossfit fanatic. Well, if people who do crossfit also killed vampires."

Having arrived only two days earlier, Marena had spent some time touring the entire palazzo when she wasn't chatting up Giorno or spending time with Josuke and Rohan, who were both currently out in the city. The house was not as vast as the one in Rome, but it was large enough; after all, though Venice had luxurious places, there was limited capacity. Nevertheless, it was still a palazzo with eight bedrooms, even if the master bedroom was a proper suite.

In addition to the bedrooms and the shared bathrooms, there were kitchens, a dungeon that was used more as a storage space than anything (although, being that the owner was who he was, it was sometimes used for its original purpose), an office, a gallery, two salons, a living room, a terrace, and a pier.

All this, she saw after changing clothes and putting on something slightly more appropriate for the place, clothes that Trish had picked out for her on her shopping trips. Although, despite being adorned in Prada, Jolyne felt that she was missing at least a corset and a crinoline. Just when she thought she had gotten used to luxuriousness in Rome, she finds out that one of his other houses looked like a museum.

A maid informed her that the master of the house would not be long in receiving her, that he was settling some urgent business. She knew Giorno probably had a lot on his plate. He had moved overnight to Venice, leaving too much unfinished business that he needed to pick up again and resolve.

She went to the terrace to watch the waters of the canal flow; it was something pleasant to look at, but not so much to smell. At the moment, just sitting idle was what she felt like doing the most.

"At another time of the year, the canals are cleaner, though colder."

Giorno entered through the balcony window doors dressed in a bejeweled black brocade suit that showed the start of his pecs, his hair flowing down in defined waves to the middle of his back. The ring sitting on his finger only completed the look that Jolyne called his 'Don's uniform'.

"It may not be my favorite place in Italy," he said, "but it's still nice. It's not to blame for what happened here."

Jolyne knew the story of how Bruno died not far from there and how the rest of their little gang was attacked several times in that same city. Venice was the point of no return, where a child's dreams of change were stained with blood.

"With everything that's happened," he continued, "you didn't even get to see the city. It's a shame. We could..."

"The biggest favor you'd do me today is to be quiet, Punzie," she replied with a tired smile, though making a pretense of getting up. "I need to talk to you."

"Bene allora, let's talk."

"Would you mind if we talk in your office?"

"Oh, that kind of talk." Giorno tried to use a dramatic tone to take the tension out of the atmosphere. "By all means, follow me. You're the most pleasant person to come by in the last few days. Don't tell Marena I said this; I'm trying to get along with her."

He had certainly succeeded. Jolyne had heard her mom already complaining about how busy 'poor GioGio' always was. Between his impeccable manners and a certain air of sadness, ladies with huge hearts would be unable to help the desire to immediately adopt him. Besides, having Romeo around made comparisions inevitable, which tipped the scales in Giorno's favor even more.

Giorno's office in Rome was large and elegant but functional in the modern sense even though it retained much of its historical feel. The one in Venice, however, was an antique; even placing a laptop on the antique desk felt odd. It was very easy to imagine the place as a decadent setting for a period piece in which some illicit encounter had taken place. Not that the office of the head of the country's largest mafia family was anything but fanciful, but that's what Jolyne had grown accustomed to.

Sitting behind the desk with a stuccoed wall full of frescoes, Giorno looked ready to be portrayed. Jolyne, seated across from him, named that imaginary portrait 'Study of a sexy man at sunset in a palace'. If she had the same talent as Rohan-sensei, she would have painted it, certain that the offers to buy it would be pouring in. When Giorno cleared his throat, she realized that she had been staring at him too long.

"So, here's the thing. I want to know how exactly we're going to find Donatello. I've been busy training all this time, and no one's really told me anything." She tried to look at the fresco rather than Giorno so as not to get distracted. She was not to blame for finding his intimidating appearance so sexy. "Dad tells me that the foundation is searching for him with all kinds of expensive tech while also keeping an eye out for suspicious activity but that Passione is involved somehow too. By now, I think it's only fair that I'm also in the know of everything that's happening."

"I'm afraid to say that no one has informed you about what Passione is doing because they don't know either. We share leads, but the methods are solely up to us."

"Oh." Jolyne's mind worked fast, trying to think of something persuasive to say. "But what if..."

"I know you only want to help, but I've already abused my power to make exceptions for you. Lots of them. Fugo is angry, and unfortunately, he's not the only one." He placed his arm on the table, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Being the boss isn't the same as being the owner. Even the Don must abide by certain rules. As much as I would like to share all the information, I can't with outsiders."

The last part stung a little. She had grown close to the core gang members and even sat in meetings with the conseglieri, making her forget that she wasn't really one of them.

"But what about Trish?" she said. "She isn't a gang member either."

"Trish is not part of Passione, but she's allowed to come because she has sworn her allegiance."

"And I can't do what she did?"

"No, you can't. It's not that simple. Not only would you need to swear allegiance to me, but you would also need two people to agree to be your godparents, standing as witnesses," he said. "Jolyne, please. I don't want you to commit to Passione just as a means to see our plans in more detail."

She looked at him with a frown but said nothing. Then, under Giorno's curious and slightly exasperated gaze, she pulled out her phone and typed in a number, putting the call on speaker.

"Hey, Mista, can I ask you a favor? You see, I need a witness for the ring-kissing thing right now. Could you do me that favor?"

"Right now? I mean, yeah, sure. We should have done this weeks ago. Abbacchio is in the next room and so is Signore Castagnela. If Bucci is not with you, I can call Narancia. Oh, wait, Fugo is coming. He can be one himself so he can stop complaining about nepotism." Mista started shouting to a bunch of people whose voices they recognized on the other end. "Signore Polnareff says he is offering himself as a witness too."

When everyone agreed to schedule a brief, impromptu ceremony via video call for a little while later, Jolyne hung up the call and turned back to Giorno, standing up to her full height. She put both hands on the desk and leaned slightly forward, inching her face a little closer to his. His aquamarine eyes were forced to look directly into her confident emerald.

"Here's the deal, Mr. Giovanna," she said. "Either you forbid me from going near anything of Passione's, which will make collaboration between us impossible, or I swear allegiance to any capo that's willing to take me."

Seeing the eyes before her narrow at the last part of her threat, she knew he understood what she was thinking. She hadn't missed his subtle jealousy to the mention of Roberto during the call, a crack in his Don persona. He seemed none too pleased, perhaps disturbed by his imagination of her being placed under the orders of someone like Roberto.

At his deep, searching gaze, Jolyne held steady. She refused to back down.

But hell, why'd she bring her face so close to his? Now she couldn't stare at the fresco to distract herself.

After what felt like forever, he finally said, "Are you sure you want this?"

Inwardly doing a victory dance, she released a breath. Who knew maintaining a dominating pose required so much energy?

She knew he was only trying look out for her. From the beginning, he had not wanted to see her involved in the mafia. However, this was her own decision, and she would not allow herself to be protected as if she were a child anymore.

"I'm absolutely damn certain."

The oath was pronounced in rather poor Italian, read from a piece of paper that Giorno quickly scribbled on, but even though it was inefficiently pronounced, no one doubted that Jolyne would be loyal to them. Maybe she wouldn't blindly follow orders, just as Trish wouldn't either, but she would never betray them. And even more than that, Giorno was utterly convinced from the bottom of his heart that she would never hurt him.

All the witnesses milled around in front of the computer in Rome to listen to her and proceeded to give their approval. Even Fugo couldn't complain about the legality of the matter, though he didn't want to come close like the rest. The next part, the oath to the Don, was somewhat more private. Despite Polnareff's protests, they turned off the call.

"Last call to repent," Giorno told her, trying not to sound nervous. "You don't need to get down on your knees..."

"Nah, I've seen this in The Godfather and I want to go ahead with it. I can do it. Just let me live in the moment."

Giorno excused himself to go to the bathroom to wash his hands. Having been sworn in by hundreds of people since he took power, he hadn't been even slightly nervous in a long, long time. He thought he was going to have a heart attack on the first day, but he knew how to keep his cool. The oath ceremony itself had never brought him any nerves; it was more the situation.

This was the first time he not only washed his hands well, but also thought about putting on some cream and filing his nails, which tended to sharpen too much due to his vampiric nature. Were his hands beautiful?

The Don's ring was a bit excessive. They hadn't found Diavolo's—not that he would have wanted it—so they resorted to an antique, a huge seal with an emerald. It wasn't something he would have chosen for his daily life, but it certainly signified his status. They said that a crown should never be comfortable for the head that wore it, and the Don's ring was the equivalent of a crown for a king.

And deep down, he had to admit that he was more nervous than he seemed about the matter of the kiss, even if it was only on the ring and not on the lips as in the major oaths. He felt the temptation to slap himself. He couldn't get nervous over something like this; he had had more lovers than he could remember.

'It's only a kiss on the hand,' he reminded himself, going back to the office.

But it would be a kiss from Jolyne, and the sight of her made him inadvertently remember the last time he was able to touch her freely. Trying to think of something else, his mind slipped to Donatello. There was nothing more unerotic than thinking of his brother.

He sat in the chair, trying to remain impassive, and extended the hand with which he wore the ring. Everything became solemn the moment Jolyne bent her knee. He expected her to make some joke about princesses, but the situation had hit her too.

Jolyne took his hand in hers before bowing. She brought her lips to the ring, though her lips inadvertently grazed a bit of his skin and lingered longer than was strictly necessary. A tiny smudge of lipstick was left behind on Giorno's skin. He loved and hated seeing it, evidence of her lips on his body, like a tease that she could mark him but he couldn't have her.

"You can get up now."

Giorno tried to gently pull his hand away, but Jolyne held on.

"Rohan told me he re-scribed that spell on you, but he wouldn't tell me what exactly he wrote in the command. You don't know either, do you?"

She didn't wait for him to respond, not looking for an answer.

"Well, if it's like last time, a kiss on the lips will break the spell. But I wonder…" Jolyne ran her fingers down his to the arch of his thumb, then stroked just over the pulse in the most sensitive area of the wrist. "About the specifics of the command. If the rule only applies to what you do and not what I do. And which zones are safe, aside from your lips. Notice, I could kiss you right here and nothing would happen."

She substituted her fingers with her lips.

At first, she was gentle, her kisses like the brush of a butterfly. Then she sucked a little, leaving a perfect lipstick mark on his skin. The poorly disguised moan from him was all she needed to hear.

She hadn't quite shed Donatello's blood, which besides giving her the nastiest wet dreams she could imagine had also left her in a state of arousal that she had tried to undo with a level of exercise that even Lisa Lisa had been worried about. And now she had in front of her the most delicious snack wrapped beautifully in a suit made to intimidate yet managed to make him look sexy.

Giorno knew he should pull away and flee the room. It was a dangerous game that they were playing. There was no saying whether her kiss on any other part of his body would break the spell. He wanted to use his authoritative Don's tone to command her to stop, but he also wanted to pathetically beg her to continue.

Despite Jolyne being the one on her knees, he was the one at her mercy. Giorno, who had said out loud without hesitation that he loved her. Giorno, so handsome that he looked like an artist's dream, dressed in a suit so fitted that it seemed that if he took a breath, the fabric around his muscles would burst. Pectorals that showed without any shame, like something that should be admired by everyone. Jolyne agreed; those pecs deserved to be admired and worshipped.

She looked up from the piece of work and met his dilated pupils.

"It seems that your hands are safe. This only makes me curious about other places."

Carefully getting up from the floor, she sat on his lap and faced him, moving her legs on either side of him. She felt him stiffen with surprise. Her breathing accelerated and her cheeks flushed. Under her was probably one of the most powerful men on the planet, and she knew she could do whatever she wanted to him. The feeling of power mixed with eroticism. That was so much better than any artificial fantasy created with blood.

"Do I have permission to test the limits of the spell, Don?" she asked him as she brought his hand back to her lips and kissed the exact same pulse point. She noticed under her lips how Giorno's heart rate quickened.

"We shouldn't do this," he said huskily in a last attempt not to lose his sanity.

"Is that a command as Don? Do you want me to stop?"

"No…"

"Then do you want to continue, Punzie?"

Conflict flashed in Giorno's eyes for a moment before the truth won out and he let out a strangled 'yes' that sounded almost more like pleading.

"Buon appetite,"she said before leaning into the opening of his suit.

As soon as she said it, Jolyne gave a decadent lick on one of his right pecs. He may have been the one with vampire blood, but at that very moment, she wanted to bite him and mark him. And so she did, albeit gently, sinking her teeth in, encouraged by his increasingly agitated breathing.

Giorno seemed to be enjoying the idea of little bruises forming across his skin, as if all her instincts were pushing her to claim him as her own. The jacket was a work of sartorial art, but at that moment, she wouldn't have minded ripping open all the buttons at once. She was tempted by the idea, but watching him unravel as she opened it button by button was too charming to give up. Every centimeter of skin freed from the clothes was caressed by her, as if she wanted to memorize it with her fingertips, creating a tingling sensation in Giorno that continued further down his abs.

As her fingers made work of his suit, slightly clumsy due to inexperience, she kissed his neck just above the jugular vein before moving on to his chin. She parted slightly to open his jacket all the way while biting her lip, staring at his mouth. It was a crime not to be able to kiss him under those conditions. Every time he gasped slightly, he revealed his perfect teeth and the beginnings of his pink tongue. If only she could put that tongue to work on her...

She gently stroked his soft golden hair down the nape of his neck before carelessly pulling it back to lift his head and regain access to his neck.

"You're so freaking beautiful," Jolyne said, almost breathless from the sight. "Can I touch you?"

"I'm yours," he said with a gasp, flushed and fully ready for her. "Please, do whatever you want with me."

Oh, she intended to do so. They would have to move from that chair. Or maybe not. At the moment, it seemed to hold them both well; she just needed to get up for a moment to get her brain in order first. Before that, of course, she needed to nibble on his ear lobe, dodging his lacy earring that was shaped like an arrowhead.

That slight tug elicited another moan from Giorno. Jolyne no longer knew if she was having too much luck finding the sensitive spots on him or if he was just sensitive to her every touch. That thought made her lose what little judgment she had left. Anything she did to him turned him on.

She pulled away from him slightly to sink her head back into the curve of his neck. One hand gripped that incredibly soft blonde hair while the other tried to sneak under his clothes, eager to get to know him completely.

She licked the entire length of his neck before sinking her teeth back in and sucking hard, half-surprised his Stand hadn't manifested to push her away. That tore from Giorno a moan so erotic she felt she was going to melt all over him.

She turned again to those divine pecs, for she knew that if she raised her head, her willpower was not so strong as not to take possession of Giorno's lips.

Perhaps, she thought with her last remaining functioning brain cells, she should kiss him. Kiss him and get it over with on that desk. Losing her virginity right then sounded tremendously tempting. Even her neurons, like every cell in her skin, were pleading for Giorno.

She let go of his hair and gently caressed his cheek, which was beginning to stubble. The slight thought of what he must look like with a golden beard assailed her for a few seconds. Surely, it looked good on him too.

With that thought, she straightened back up on him, and they both looked at each other intently. It was as if they had both already given each other permission to do what they both wanted to do but were just waiting for the other to start.

So lost in one another, they didn't notice the intrusion until it was too late.

"Jolyne!" Romeo burst in without knocking. "I heard you were here and I wanted to tell you that..."

Giorno and Jolyne coordinated to shout at the same time, "GET OUT!"

With his face turning red, Romeo turned on his heel and scrammed.

"God, how I hate that guy. He does worse and worse things to me."

"Wasn't he responsible for you ending up in jail?"

"You should look in a mirror, Punzie. What he did to me now is worse."

Giorno hugged her tightly, frustrated but having to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. He had never ended up half naked receiving a loyalty oath, but with Jolyne, everything was usually more interesting.

There was awkward silence for a while after that, both turning away in embarassment. Finally, Jolyne climbed off, mumbling an excuse.

"I…I should go."

Giorno only nodded, understanding.

The interruption had served to remind them that it was daylight and they were in an unlocked place. Her mom was also home and could call her for dinner at any time.

Giorno, his shirt still open, watched Jolyne's nervous, retreating back, trying to contain his hunger for her.

It was clear to both of them that their control was getting tighter by the day and there would be less and less time before something was bound to happen. Not that either of them minded that happening at all.

Chapter 41: Weakness and Lust

Chapter Text

One of the things Giorno missed most was having his own facilities for everything. Yes, the palazzo in Venice was a work of art, but having to take a boat to the gym was a pain. Since he had to be in public, he took three bodyguards, not that they were going to save him from anything. They only served as decoration so that no one would get too close. With him was also Bucciarati dressed in sportswear even though he was not going to exercise. His body was in the same condition as when he had died, but nothing kept him from being able to keep track of the repetitions and act as a personal trainer.

Despite his particularly fortunate genetics, Giorno worked out assiduously. Having a Stand like his gave him a lot of confidence, but he liked to be able to assert himself physically without having to use his vampire skills. Besides, burning calories helped him to relax.

And he hated to admit it, but even though he later discovered that Dr. Kujo had gotten so far ahead of him because he stopped time a few times during their race to Jolyne and Donatello, part of him still wished he had gotten there first.

"You've done enough running time for today, Giorno. May I remind you that tomorrow you're going to have quite a bit of walking to do? You wouldn't want to have stiffness in your legs when you and Jolyne cross the Rialto Bridge."

Bruno was not at all casual with his comment, and his smile made Giorno confirm that his former boss knew something. He hadn't said anything to anyone and, at least as far as he knew, neither had Romeo, much less Jolyne, who had gone away embarrassed, mumbling things that obviously made it obvious that she felt guilty without giving him time to explain that she hadn't forced him to do anything.

He had ended up taking a shower with ice water before going to the gym, and at that rate, he would jump into the canal in the middle of the date.

"I saw Jolyne doing what Mr. Higashikata says they call 'the ancestral Joestar technique' out of your office." Seeing that Giorno was looking at him quizzically, he clarified. "Running away. So I was wondering what had happened, but considering that from time to time, you stay in a dreamy state, smile and then blush... Maybe Jolyne's unique scent isn't going to be a problem for long?"

Giorno was drinking water, and when he heard that last part, he almost choked. Even his Stand gave him a couple of blows on his back as he coughed.

"I wasn't going to sleep with her in my office," he whispered to Bruno. "At least that wasn't the plan. It was just a kiss on the ring, you know, the oath. But it got a little out of hand."

"Kiss on the hand, you say, and that you almost ended up sleeping with her? I remember other shouts too that could explain why you didn't go through with it, but it would have been a good chance to end all your problems with her scent... But if you want me to help you, I want details. Not to gossip, but to give you better advice. And maybe to gossip a little too."

Giorno didn't say anything. Instead, he went towards one of the weight lifting apparatus, as it was leg day that day. His bodyguards had cleared the area for him already. Bruno waited patiently as the young don positioned himself on the apparatus and began to lift the weight.

"She kissed my hand and realized there was no consequence... Then she decided to keep testing the limits." He looked away, unable to bear Bruno's direct gaze. He also started lifting weights faster. "She tested it on my neck and my... " He silently pointed to his pectoral area with a glance.

Bruno was silent for a few seconds before the start of a laugh escaped him, which he cut short.

"So our innocent virgin wanted a taste of your male boobs. I don't see the problem with that." He shrugged as he analyzed it all. "You're in love with her and making love to her would free you from making her irresistible to your brothers."

"It was at that moment that Romeo came in and interrupted us," Giorno clarified. "Although, it's for the better, you know? She deserves something more appropriate, a date, for me to confess my feelings to her... Being treated like she deserves."

"Giorno." Bucciarati looked at him in a tender way. "That's thoughtful of you, minus the feelings part, I think Jolyne and half of Italy are pretty clear about that by now. I've lost count of how many times you've lifted that." Bucciarati went back to focusing on what was important. "But she certainly deserves it. The men in her life have been a disaster, even when they've left her for good reasons like her father did."

Giorno stopped abruptly, partly because he was not feeling emotionally well and partly because no one was counting the sets and he had been lifting too much weight too fast.

"I'm still not sure if I'm good for her. No, I'm not referring to not feeling good enough. I'm already dealing with that with Josuke in my therapy sessions." He got up from the machine and wiped his sweat. "But my life is not something I wish on just anyone. I don't know if she's aware of all that it means."

"She saw you rip a person's heart out, so I think she pretty much knows what she's getting into." Bruno slapped Giorno on the back. "Besides, she's an adult and she deserves to be able to choose. Do you want to treat her like she deserves? Better than anyone else has? Fine, trust her judgment and let her choose. If she chooses you for a reason, she's smart, so don't choose for her."

"She is, isn't she?" Giorno couldn't help but smile. "Being in love is rare. It's being worried about someone else and at the same time being filled with peace. I'll admit, I was always a little jealous. I wanted to find someone to make me feel the same way Abbacchio told you the day we declared ourselves traitors."

"I was already dead by then, yet he made me feel as if my stopped heart was going to race. He's a romantic," Bucciarati answered him with a smile. "Jolyne is wonderful and I couldn't wish anything better for you, one of my children, the one I care about the most. So let's go home, rest, and get ready to dazzle that woman."

In another part of Venice, in Giorno's palazzo, in what would be her new room, Jolyne was standing next to the laptop that had been left for her to make a video call to her friends. She needed to talk to someone, and the person she had in mind was Trish. She loved and trusted Marena, but she didn't feel comfortable telling her how she had licked Giorno's pecs.

Jolyne didn't know if Trish was busy, but she wanted to at least try reaching out to her. When the video call connected, she was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by the sight of Ermes and F.F.'s faces. Trish was nowhere to be seen in the backdrop that was the palazzo guest room that was usually reserved for the pinkette.

"So you're all staying at that place until Giorno comes back to Rome?" Jolyne said after hearing them talk. "It makes sense. Even if you want to move out and do your own thing, it's better to wait. No one is really safe now, with those three bastards on the loose."

She was cut off by shouts off-screen on the other side of the call. Trish seemed to have been yelling at Mista nonstop the last dozen or so minutes for leaving the pink room that overlooked the garden full of crumbs from when his Stand had eaten.

"I think it’s perfectly normal for a Stand to have to eat," F.F. said, "but at least I’m being taught manners."

She'd been watching Trish yell until she got bored. The two girls had decided to wait out the nagging in Trish's room for their "mandatory" girls' night out when Jolyne had called.

"I'm afraid to tell that girl how much worse G.D.S Prison was with its confinement," Ermes said. "But enough about her. So, what is it that has you so anxious to call?"

"I'm not anxious," Jolyne denied.

"Please, you're easy to read like a book. It's girls' night out and you're mentally present with us, so you might as well spill the tea."

Jolyne hesitated but then remembered they had shared worse stories in prison. When she finally revealed to them about what was going on between her and Giorno, as expected, there were raised eyebrows.

"So you've slept with the vampire don?" asked Ermes.

"They couldn't have," said F.F. "It wasn't nighttime. Those things are done at night. There's a blanket and you point to the moon."

"She's been spending a lot of time watching romantic movies when she's not at the pond," Ermes clarified to Jolyne.

"I like the pond. Giorno told me I could be there whenever I wanted, but the other dead guy with the white hair said I had to go out when there were visitors. Lately, they come a lot, but they let me put in an inflatable pool and play movies for me, so I'm fine." F.F. took another sip from her huge glass. "If you marry Giorno, do we get to live here forever?"

"I'm not thinking about marriage…” Jolyne replied in a high-pitched tone in an accusatory manner. "And I haven't slept with him. For all the things that my blood does to him, we've only kissed and not even on the mouth. Just innocent areas. Hands count as innocent, right? And then... Well, maybe I wasn't so... But it wasn't in sexual areas. I think. I don't know. Maybe a little bit? No, even if a guy's shirtless, it doesn't have to be sexual, right?"

There was a small murmur between the two Floridians under their breath before they turned around smiling.

"So you haven't slept with him YET, but it's going to happen," Ermes said. "Because chica, licking a man is just a way to taste him before you eat him!"

"Or to find out if he's lying," added F.F. "Or so Bucci told me."

"I don't think it works like that," Ermes said to F.F., filled with doubt. Since she attained a Stand, she had learned that anything was possible. She turned her focus back to Jolyne. "But we need details. How did he react? You're going to need to give us more if you want help solving this crisis."

"There's not much to tell," replied Jolyne. "First, I was on my knees, you know, like in 'The Godfather'. And I did the hand kissing thing. And then I wasn't on my knees anymore but on his knees. And I asked him if he was okay with it, you know."

In the background, F.F. could be heard saying 'I don't know, what do I need to know?' as Ermes shushed her.

"And then, we just established how guys' chests are not erotic, right? But he told me I could do whatever I wanted and he made strange noises when I did. Not in a bad way. Everything was... Great."

"I may not know him well, especially the way Trish does, but that guy is definitely in love with you. You've got him in the palm of your hand," Ermes said. Pausing, she glanced to her side at something off-screen. "She's got to be tired of yelling at him by now, or at least she will when she starts to remember to watch her vocal cords. Lucky that she doesn't have any immediate upcoming concerts."

"You should chase him to the airport," F.F. suggested to Jolyne. "That usually works."

"I told you the world doesn't work like that." Ermes sighed heavily.

Jolyne knew they were right; she was glad she got to share everything with them.

True to Ermes' words, it wasn't long before tired grunts could be heard in the background. F.F. shouted that Jolyne had called, and there was a rush of thundering footsteps before the door burst open, letting Trish in.

"Mia Sorellina! What a joy that you made a video call. I was about to forget your face," she replied dramatically despite the amount of pictures they exchanged. "Thankfully, I have your lovely friends to keep me company; being surrounded only by boys can be exhausting at times. Ermes here even accompanied me for my last couple of concerts and helped out my management team a great deal."

Jolyne raised her eyebrows at Ermes, who only shrugged. It seemed that they had gotten closer while she was training. She felt a twinge of jealousy that she was left out of their little group's activities due to the physical distance, but she was also happy for them more than anything.

F.F. suddenly stood up and exited the camera's view, saying something about needing to get more water.

Ermes watched her before getting up too. "I'll go keep an eye on her. Don't need another toilet water incident."

Jolyne was too afraid to ask, so she just turned back to Trish.

"Anyway, I wanted to consult you about something delicate, if you don't mind," she said, hugging a nearby cushion in preparation for Trish's possible intensity.

"Sure, I can talk if you're in doubt about something, though I'm offended that you doubt at all," Trish said. "Since Gio is in Venice and you are too... Per favore, I've made a bet with Abbacchio. Has he kissed you?"

"How do you know? And no, Giorno didn't kiss me while here. I kissed him but not on the lips."

"Cazzo Leone, he always wins the bets. Anyone would say that his Stand reads the future instead of the past," she complained for a moment before continuing with a more animated tone. "That's my sorellina. Don't wait for anyone, be proactive. Wait, you didn't kiss him on the lips, so you mean you gave him a..."

Jolyne was slow to understand what Trish meant, but when she did, she turned as red as a tomato and was quick to clarify that she hadn't done that to him. She hadn't even seen that part of the male body live.

"Oh, just kissing. You can tell me the rest. I've played love counselor to him more times than I've played guest conseglieri."

Jolyne tried to tell her the story in as little detail as possible, but Trish interrupted her every two seconds to get new juicy details.

"It's been good gossip, and I don't know what you want me to suggest other than to tell you 'go get him, girl.' He loves you. I know Giorno very well, but if I didn't, just from seeing you guys once, I'd say 'wow, that guy really is in love'. I mean, even Donatella Versace knew he's in love with you."

The frufru of fabric was heard. Surely, she was wearing one of those fancy silk sleeping robes.

"You aren't doubting, Sorellina, are you? Because if so, you're in your right. Just because someone falls in love with you, doesn't mean you have to reciprocate their love or that you can't have second thoughts or go at your own pace. The good thing about Giorno is that he won’t pressure you, so don't do it on your own."

It was good advice, great advice, in fact. But much easier said than done.

"Well, don't think about it. You have a date with him, so let things flow."

"Thanks, Trish. I'll try not to get overwhelmed. I've been overwhelmed enough by the other idiot. Or 'others', since Romeo isn't helping."

"Well, this Romeo guy, I can beat him up if you want. As for the others... The missing one, Ungalo, have you seen him?"

Jolyne made a negative grunt; the helicopter had been too far to allow her to get a good look at his face.

"Considering the images of the others I've seen, we might get an ally, and who knows, he might be the sexiest man I've ever seen and I'll end up calling you one day to clarify my own feelings for him." They both laughed, more relaxed. "Rest up, Sorellina, tomorrow is another day."

"Unless you die. They say it can happen all at once," added F.F., entering the room with Ermes "All those veins, organs and little things can fail at any time."

"Thank you for trading my nerves about the appointment for vital terror of waking up dead," Jolyne replied sarcastically.

"Oh, but you're young and healthy." F.F. seemed to think about it for a moment and her face turned into a frightened expression. "You're healthy, aren't you? Please stay healthy and hydrated."

"I will, calm down. Good night, girls."

Despite the little Memento Mori, Jolyne couldn't help but smile. They were right. As nervous as she was, whatever had to happen would happen anyway, so she simply had to wait for the time to come. If she was honest with herself, she was quite looking forward to the next day.

Meanwhile, a little more than 13 kilometers away, in a small house with sealed windows in the suburban village of Malcontenta, the aforementioned Ungalo was nervous, nauseous, and worried.

Feeling nervous and nauseous was nothing strange to him. It was what he was used to feeling when he had been off drugs for a while. But in addition to his normal state when he was sober, there was something else. Donatello had been insufferable for a long time; since the very day he met Jolyne, everything had been getting worse. Not that Donatello had ever been someone easy to deal with, of course, but it had been an escalation in the measure of sh*t even by his standards. Then, just when everything was on its ass, Rikiel decided to leave as well.

It's not that he missed Rikiel too much, as they hadn't been allowed to forge bonds, but at least when his brother was around, the blame was shared between the two of them.

Taking Rikiel's departure as the worst of betrayals, Donatello had decided to go all out in the search for the blood of the Joestars. They could have gone after any of the others while Giovanna was protecting Jolyne; that would have caught them by surprise. Joseph Joestar's daughter had a weak Stand, so she was the perfect target. However, even with Pucci's opposition, Donatello insisted that it had to be Jolyne. Further, all the plans he ever made were partly dedicated to keeping Ungalo away from her, as if she was super special or like he had no self-control at all.

Well, okay, he was a drug addict, but that didn't mean he was going to throw himself at the woman like a desperate man. A woman who was supposedly in love with Donatello, as his brother claimed, along with a lot of other crap Ungalo didn't believe. He knew that Donatello thought he was an idiot and always looked at him with disgust, at best with pity, but he was not an idiot. He was aware Pucci hadn't given Donatello time to form a relationship with that bitch. No matter how much his brother embellished it with pretty words, Ungalo knew he was only trying to again take what belonged to all the brothers. Having seen her himself from the helicopter and in more pictures than he wanted to, he didn't think she was even all that. Yes, she was cute, but he liked softer women with bigger breasts.

At that moment, he was listening to the cries of a frustrated Donatello complaining that the fruit of his Stand, Bohemian Rhapsody, was not the same as the real one. He pretended not to hear as he was insulted in the next room. Donatello had asked him to 'make' her again, a Jolyne.

Using the many pictures of her as a reference, he was sure his Stand had done as perfect a job as possible, but it was still not a perfect piece of work, only a copy, not even human. Besides, when he had made her more like the real deal, she had insulted Donatello, which was honestly funny. Making her more docile never came out the same, but he was grateful for it, because while it wasn't nice to have Donatello angry, it was even worse to have your brother try to f*ck a manifestation of your soul.

"Stupid pile of sh*t." Donatello flung open the door. "I was calling out to you. Are you so high you can't hear?"

"Maybe my f*cking problem is that I'm too sober to put up with you," Ungalo replied angrily. "And definitely to put up with what you're trying to do to my Stand. Where the f*ck is Pucci?"

"You think I'm his spokesman?" Donatello replied. He was still grumpy, but he didn't expect such a forceful response, so he softened his tone. "He should have been back days ago. I don't know what the hell he's thinking. As much as it annoys him, our biggest enemy now is Giovanna."

Ungalo looked at him without saying anything. He knew their oldest brother was dangerous, but that also had to be jealousy talking. It wasn't only because of the Jolyne affair either. Donatello had been jealous of Giorno from the moment he learned of his very existence.

"I'm going out," Donatello announced to him, as though he thought he was that important.

"Bring me a souvenir," Ungalo told him as he watched him go. "Asshole."

The door closed behind Donatello, and Ungalo breathed a little easier. Although, knowing what Donatello was going to do, he knew that this calm would be transitory.

Chapter 42: Monsters

Chapter Text

As a child, Donatello heard that the most powerful force of all was love, but it didn't take him long to realize that it was the power itself that was important. What was love if not possession? And nothing gave you more possession than power.

He normally disliked prostitutes because they were easy to get and didn't really belong to anyone. To him, they were cheap and easy relief, like eating junk food in questionable condition.

Now it was even worse when he had had the most delicious delicacy ever created right at his fingertips. Jolyne seemed like a being from another world next to people like that, but sometimes, hunger got the better of him and he had to settle for a dollar store meal.

If you didn't look closely, you could almost be fooled into thinking that the prostitute he was going to was Jolyne. The first time he saw her, he was surprised by the resemblance in their facial features, possibly because of the Italian ancestry of his future wife. The rest was easily arranged. A hairdressing session, some contact lenses, and a tattoo. After taking her off the streets and feeding her his blood, that bitch would have done anything he asked for and more.

Her name was Alda, but she had dropped it when he started calling her Jojo. She kept it only for her job, as after a reasonable time to make sure she was clean, he sent her back to work. Only now, she wasn't loyal to a Passione pimp, but to him.

Prostitutes were allowed to enter everywhere. Even though the current don had improved their conditions, it ended up happening like with drugs: in the end, under his rule, only children were protected.

The prostitutes heard many things, such as the Don having a guest, perhaps a mistress, who came with him after his sudden trip to America. Also that the so-called Speedwagon Foundation tried to talk to the Don and that he turned them down. He always had his ear to the ground for anything he could hear, so he had went quietly to the US again to look for the ex-boyfriend to set Jolyne up.

When he opened the door to her apartment, she was already waiting for him, faithful like a dog. The combination of his blood and treating her relatively well after a lifetime of beatings had made her incredibly dependent on him. It disgusted him.

"Well, my little JoJo," he said, feeling that the name he had given her tasted like acid after having held the real one in his arms. "Do you have something for me?"

"Mr. Donatello!" she cried, the tone of her voice annoying him as it had never done so before. "There's tons of news about the Don having temporarily moved to Venice without notice."

That information was useless, and Donatello did not like to keep things that were of no use to him. No matter how many cosmetics he used to alter her appearance, she looked less and less like Jolyne. She had always been on the physically weak side, but lately, she seemed more emaciated. Not that he could blame her entirely, for perhaps he had drunk more blood than he should have last time. But at the end of the day, no one cared who had broken the toy. If it was broken, it had to be thrown away.

"You look frustrated. I can help you with that," she said in what sounded like it was supposed to be a tantalizing tone but repulsed him deeply.

"Not today." He took her chin with two fingers, analyzing her face, only to find more and more imperfections. "Everyone knows the Don is in Venice." He pressed his fingers as hard as necessary on her chin. He knew it was painful, which showed in her expression, but she didn't complain. "Nothing else?"

"I can still make you happy," she told him, trying to bring her cleavage into his field of vision.

Donatello let go of her with a smile, and the poor girl fell to the ground. He held out his hand to help her up.

She had been quite helpful, not only in feeding him information, but acting as a good substitute for Jolyne, who had been snatched from his grasp. However, she knew too much now while being of so little use. Additionally, the changes she had undergone to look like Jolyne were becoming blatant. It risked raising suspicion in the capos among her clients who had seen what the Don's "girlfriend" looked like when visiting his palazzo during the organization's purge weeks ago. That rendered her quite useless for infiltrating Giorno's environment.

"Despite what my brother believes, I'm very close to accomplishing my goals." He patted the girl's head. "Even though that coward Rikiel betrayed us, everything will be easier when Pucci returns. Then defeating Pucci himself will not be so far into the future."

He shoved her without much care to the nearest seat. He was in a good mood. Really, his chances were higher than they seemed. He would spare her life another day.

"Stay out of the Don's environment, my dear. I have to go."

"Mr. Donatello." She tried to stop him, hungry for his attention. "I don't know who the woman is, but I'm sure you'll get her. You're one of the most radiant men I've ever met. Any woman would want you. There is only one in the world who could rival you, but surely you can do it."

"Which man?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I've only seen him once from afar myself, but I'll never be able to forget the image of the Don of Passione." She seemed to think about it for a second. "Don Giovanna is truly beautiful."

All resolve to let her live a little longer went out the window. With unnatural speed, Donatello effortlessly sliced open her jugular. If she was that stupid, let her at least serve as food.

When he released her lifeless corpse, he realized with disgust that the whor* had bled on his shirt. He regretted that he couldn't kill her a second time.

After throwing the corpse into the sea, he walked home, calming his spirits. He began to regret killing her too early. She could have continued to serve him after going back to the hairdresser's, but now he had to restart the process of getting a new prostitute while waiting on Pucci to hurry.

He knew Pucci had his own plans that he didn't tell him or Ungalo, but for the moment, the priest was still useful to him, even though he hadn't trusted him in a long time. Pucci had seduced him to his side when he was practically a child, but he had destroyed that trust when he had appeared to him unannounced with someone else for his position as the leader of Dio's heirs to conquer the world. It was then that he realized that his father really meant nothing, and his legacy even less. Dio was just a powerful guy who f*cked a few women he didn't kill afterwards, but little else of importance. Or at least nothing that should have mattered to Donatello beyond releasing him into the world without taking care of him. It was clear that they were tools to Pucci, especially after Rikiel's betrayal when he showed cold rage rather than concern for him, but Donatello was fine with that because he was using Pucci too.

Maybe Pucci was amusing himself with tracking the traitor right now, as if anyone cared what that useless man was up do. Unlike Pucci, Donatello wasn't of the opinion that Rikiel's whereabouts was a matter of urgency. If he saw him again though, he would kill Rikiel himself.

"You smell like blood," Ungalo told him as soon as he walked through the door in his bloodied shirt. "Just like that girl you use. Blood and death. With that large of a stain, there's no way that girl is still alive."

Ungalo wasn't scolding him, just stating things. Donatello simply nodded and went straight to the shower.

He had to clear his head. Having Jolyne was a priority, but his desire for her was starting to cloud his judgment a bit. At least he knew that idiot Giorno was playing too noble and wouldn't dare put one of his manicured fingers on her. Giorno may have been powerful, but he was also too cowardly to snatch all the power he could have. If it were him, Donatello would have already taken Jolyne's blood, not all of it, just enough to turn himself. Then he would take her whole—her blood, her body, her soul, and her life—to be his queen in a world he would soon have at his feet.

As soon as he got out of the shower, he noticed one more presence in the house. Sensing the familiarness, he decided to take his time and make the person wait.

He was in no hurry to feel Pucci's disappointed gaze on him again, leaving that privilege to Ungalo for a while. Putting on clean clothes, he looked at the red leather jacket he loved so much and barely managed to salvage after his escape. He knew the priest hated that jacket and even more so when it smelled of blood. That's why he put it back on while plastering on his most irritating smile.

"Long time no see, Father Pucci." He took a seat next to Ungalo on one of living room's armchairs, not looking at the priest directly. "How's life? Are you starting to get the aches and pains of age?"

"I've had a lot of trouble getting the helicopter back and making it untraceable. Passione's tentacles are long, and being in Italy makes things too difficult not to follow the plans." He muttered something, always the damn prime numbers, to keep calm. "You've been vomiting for two days because of the corpse's blood. They already know you're going to come after her. Change your target."

When Pucci started with the usual speech about attacking Holy, the weakest link, when she was out shopping at full-speed, Donatello looked away and stopped paying attention. Jolyne was made for him; he didn't want to completely lose his humanity to an old woman he didn't care about. It was like getting married in a tracksuit when there was a tailor-made suit available. Simply unthinkable.

"Have you gotten ahold of the Martian yet?" asked Donatello, interrupting midway through the priest's reprimand.

"Almost, I just need you to hold back while the plans finish flowing." Pucci looked at him, anticipating the worst of responses. "I'm going to need discretion, so for that, I'll be taking Ungalo with me."

Both the priest and Ungalo, who had seemed to be half absent the entire conversation, seemed to hold their breath, as if waiting for him to go off in some sort of violent tantrum at the sight of another preferred before him. He gritted his teeth and formed an extremely strained smile as he nodded.

He didn't like him insinuating that his obnoxious drug addict brother was better than him, though surely he was more manipulable, which was all that mattered to Pucci. Donatello didn't care if he took another as his puppet. The time when he desired validation from anyone was definitely behind him. It had taken him too long to realize that the opinion of someone inferior to him was worthless.

"Of course, Father, I still need a little time to recover anyway." He looked away, a serene smile on his face. For a moment, from the corner of his eye, he saw Pucci stare at him, though it was as if he was seeing someone else. "It will be as you wish."

Let him take Ungalo away to waste his time. Donatello had his own preparations to make, a golden boy to take down. Well, if he could still even be called that now that Donatello had discovered his secret, one he hadn't even shared with the others. Little abused Haruno was too good at hiding. So much so that Donatello was now inclined to agree with Pucci that his eldest brother was the son that was most like their father, who was an asshole that had gotten himself killed because he wasn't aware of his own weaknesses.

Recalling the memories he'd unearthed and witnessed recently, Donatello couldn't help but sneer at the irony. Who would have thought the person he was envious of for so long was nothing more than a pathetic man coated in gold paint?

Chapter 43: The Magic

Chapter Text

Jolyne was sure she hadn't bought those clothes she had seen in her closet. All the personal hygiene and cosmetic products also looked unused. She no longer felt as guilty about it as before, as she had started to take what Trish had said about it not being an effort for Giorno to buy all that stuff to heart.

There was only one person in the world who would use a pen with pink glitter ink to hang a note saying 'wear this' on a Gucci dress that was white with flower print, so there was no question as to who the note was from even though she had never seen Trish's handwriting.

A romantic date in Venice, even if it was pretend, was too important for Trish to ignore. Jolyne remembered the day of the mafia party and how much she had complained about having Trish, Abbacchio, and Bucciarati in the room and the headache they gave her when they were getting her ready.

A party full of mobsters where meeting a target was far more dangerous than going on a fake date with a friend. A friend whom had confess his love for her. A friend she had been snogging shamelessly the day before. She wanted to hide under a rock. Well, at least she was able to make it perfectly clear to him that she was attracted to him, what with practically ripping off his clothes while throwing herself at him.

She wouldn't have picked that dress if she'd seen it on a hanger, but now that she saw herself in it, she had no doubt that Trish would have made a great personal shopper if she hadn't been a singer. It was a long dress, nothing she was used to wearing, but it was still quite comfortable.

When Marena stopped by to see how she was doing, Jolyne took advantage of her mom's presence to help her with the makeup. Marena was much more modest when it came to make-up than her extravagant daughter, but at the moment, Jolyne's hands were trembling too much, so the help was immense.

"Don't you find this a bit much?" Jolyne asked, pointing to the dress.

"Normally, I would tell you yes, but seeing how GioGio usually dresses, I have to say no. Besides, you look very pretty. Do you know how long I've been wanting to see you in a long dress again? You haven't let me since you were seven," joked Marena, trying to calm her daughter. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but remember, it'll just be taking a walk with a handsome man. You're not afraid of him, are you?"

"Of course not! I mean, I'm not going to pretend that I don't know Giorno is capable of killing me and he could have done it many times since we've met, but I've always known he would never hurt me. In fact, it's the opposite; there's a part of him that tends to sacrifice himself, making me nervous. He's not able to look out for himself." Jolyne blushed. "The problem is that maybe I wish this wasn't fake."

"Maybe? Honey, I'm not your father. I can see how you practically glow around him. And I don't know him too well, but I've seen how he is with and without you around, and it's like flipping a switch that he doesn't seem to notice." She patted Jolyne's head, taking care so as not to ruffle her hair. "It's normal for you to have a hard time after Romeo, so you don't have to be in a hurry if you don't want to. But he is a blond Italian and you Joestars have that taste in your blood."

After finishing with her preparations, Jolyne followed a maid to the pier. As she crossed the palazzo, she decided she was appropriately dressed after all, matching the luxurious aesthetic.

"Jolyne, wait," she heard Romeo call from somewhere behind her.

"Not now, they're waiting for me," she said without even turning to him.

She sensed that he was following her to the pier, but anything she was going to say to him was completely overshadowed by what she saw awaited her there.

She had expected the typical motorboat that moved through the canals, but instead, Giorno had decided to be more classic and call a gondola. Not a normal gondola, but one of those super luxurious ones covered in red brocade velvet, with only a sofa for two people and filled with golden details on the carved wood. In addition, there were peonies on every unoccupied surface of the gondola, making their fragrant scent completely counteract the smell of the canal and giving it the appearance of a luxurious cloud of flowers. However, the most striking piece of art was the man who sat waiting on it.

The gilt of the embossed woodwork shone no more than Giorno's curls, free of any ties as they fell over a wide silk shirt with a small flower pattern that vaguely resembled her dress. The silk was so fine that the contours of his body were perfectly discernible in the light.

He was also wearing obscenely tight white pants. However, what almost made her fall into the canal was when, the moment she saw him get up to help her, she realized that the vest he was wearing was not a vest at all, but a white male corset perfectly molded to highlight every curve of his torso. As he held out his hand to her, the emerald of the Don's ring glowed.

"I already saw this dress when Trish showed it to me, saying that it reminded her of you when she went out shopping and that obviously it had to be bought, but you make it look spectacular. Every time I think you can't get any more beautiful, you prove me wrong." He gave her a gentle kiss on the hand, making her blush, and despite his stoicism, he couldn't help but blush too. "Not half flattering? I dressed while thinking of you..."

Hearing that, Jolyne couldn't help but punch him lightly (although, Giorno suspected that if it weren't for his privileged genetics, she would have knocked the wind out of him; she was getting stronger and didn't realize it) before telling him very quickly that he looked very handsome.

"Signore Giovanna, you were right. The lady is more beautiful than flowers," the gondolier said, complimenting her. "Shall we go now?"

"This place is gorgeous. I didn't think it would actually be better than what you see in the movies." Jolyne looked around in wonder, though glancing at Giorno from time to time. It seemed a sin not to. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to swim around here though."

"Ask Narancia about the experience… He wasn't originally going to come with our team, just like Fugo, but he got cold feet and jumped in the canal instead of calling us to turn around."

Jolyne didn't want to spoil the mood, but there was a question she'd had for quite some time.

"About the Fugo thing... You don't have to answer me if you don't want to, but it seems like, I don't know, he hates you and loves you at the same time."

"You're quite intuitive. I can tell you about it, but wouldn't you rather talk about something else?"

Jolyne's green eyes radiated curiosity, so he continued.

"When I became the Don of Passione, I needed people I could trust, as changing power is a long and difficult process and... Well, you saw what happened at the party. Fugo showed up back then, and I happened to need him. Even though I was a little wary, I understood why he hadn't joined us."

He cleared her throat with some embarrassment.

"We were 15 and 16, and while I understood him, I also couldn't help but blame him a little. His Stand would have been very useful in our endeavor, and with one more of us, Abbacchio wouldn't have been left alone on the beach that one time in the first place. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything, but I couldn't stop thinking about other scenarios, so in part, I couldn't stop blaming him, even though he tried proving his loyalty every day to me, which was a problem in a different way."

"Great, now I understand you even less." Jolyne gave him a confused look. "Isn't the whole oath thing supposed to be about loyalty?"

"You're right, but that's not what I mean." Giorno thought a bit before answering. "Think about Mista. I know you're not the best of friends, but you know I can trust him with Passione, my own life and even yours. Fugo I would blindly trust with my life, but I don't trust him following my orders without supervision from Passione, and I wouldn't even ask him to pick you up from the airport. He tends to think he knows best what to do and is loyal to me, not Passione. And sometimes, I think he hates me for it, just like he hated Abbacchio. In Fugo's own words, when he joined Bruno's gang, he tended to be extremely possessive... Abbacchio says he solved it by punching him the first time he threatened him with his Stand. But in my case, as the Don, punishing him wouldn't be the right impression, and the situation got worse when I started dating..."

"Giorno, I know you dated Mista. You are gloriously bisexual, and in case you've ever wondered, I am too. So, the only thing I could judge you for is dating someone unhygienic. Although, on second thought, maybe I can't judge anyone either. You've already met Romeo."

"Ok, Miss Gloriously Bisexual or just Glorious," he said in a flirtatious tone. "He became immensely jealous. Which was weird because I'm sure he has no romantic feelings whatsoever for me or anyone else. What's more, he seems disappointed every time he sees any sign of weakness in me. That's why he doesn't like you; because of you, my beautiful chaos, I show myself to be more human than I ever have since I was a kid. A lot of people just have a hard time understanding that I'm also a person."

Jolyne was torn between responding to the flirtations or to whatever else he had just told her. Her heart felt pain for Giorno, who was deprived of the chance to just be a normal person with faults because people had elevated him to an impossible image of a golden deity. Even if it was an image that he himself had insisted on creating, it was something that had ended up eating him up and hurting him.

"Luckily, I've come to remind you that you are human." Jolyne jabbed her finger in his cheek playfully, but Giorno grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to it.

"Almost human, but you make me want to be human completely." He carefully held her chin so she would look him in the eye. "I know it's probably a terrible idea, but... I'd like this not to be a pretend date. I don't want you to feel pressured to accept, but I'd like to always be honest with you. And the truth is, I want to date you even though it's a terrible idea."

Jolyne should have been more prepared for that moment than she really was. Everyone was telling her to do the thing she most wanted to do, but Giorno spoke the truth: it was not a good idea. The best thing was to go out with someone normal when it was all over, to have a life that was considered ordinary for someone her age, maybe go to college and meet new people, like everyone else did. However, she had never been a normal person, and she was beginning to accept that she wasn't meant to be.

"You know I don't make the smartest decisions," she said, "but I still usually get things right. I mean, yeah, let's do it."

Giorno smiled as Jolyne had never seen him do so before. He seemed... happy. Not happy because he had achieved a goal, but genuinely happy, as if he had withdrawn a mask, too happy to wear it. And against all odds, losing the mask made him even more beautiful.

"How I wish I could kiss you right now," Giorno said as Jolyne hugged him tightly, separating only to kiss him on the cheek. "Signore Kishibe is going to kill us if we make him fix his spell again."

"Nah, I'm Josuke's favorite niece. Well, his only niece. But I don't want you to do something that will make you uncomfortable later."

"If breaking the spell only affected me, I wouldn't mind a little discomfort." He saw Jolyne blush a little but she did not look away, full of curiosity. "In fact, even pain at the right time, Farfalla, can be most pleasurable. But we're not talking about that but the possibility of hurting you. In the face of that, I'd rather deal with a little frustration."

He spoke to her with such intensity that Jolyne thought that if all she needed to do was get laid, she would tell the gondolier to turn around and drag Giorno into the first empty room she could find. Luckily, Giorno changed the subject for both their sakes and started telling her about how Venice was built on several smaller islands and how they had been linked by bridges. While explaining all that to her, Giorno put his arm around her shoulders and stroked her shoulder absentmindedly.

When they arrived at their destination, they began waiting for the classic visit to the Doge's palazzo. Unexpectedly, the square started to flood, so the employees offered to help Jolyne get to the platforms, which could be difficult with the long dress and heels.

"May I?" asked Giorno, gallantly extending a hand, to which she nodded before taking it.

What she didn't expect was that instead of helping her by simply offering support, he took the opportunity to carry her in his arms bridal style.

Jolyne protested, slightly embarrassed, but if what they wanted was to be seen, it was working. There were tourists taking pictures of them instead of the square, and there were even onlookers starting to ask if it was some kind of photo shoot. In order not to draw the wrong kind of attention, Jolyne stopped protesting while trying to hide her face in Giorno's chest.

"I'll get you for this," she whispered to him when she heard him laugh.

"And I'll be waiting."

When they got to where they needed to be, Giorno let her put her feet back on the ground despite half-joking proposals that he could carry her in his arms all day. Jolyne had no doubt that if she asked, he would. But she needed some distance if she didn't want to end up kissing him without thinking.

The ducal palazzo was beautiful. A guide attended them during the visit, and when it was over, they walked along the footbridges to reach the non-flooded area where the small tents were located. Jolyne practically had to threaten Giorno not to buy anything she looked at and not to carry her in his arms again.

The street was crowded, so Giorno reminded her to at least hold hands.

"I know, to avoid attacks and to not get separated," replied Jolyne.

"Of course, but also because I like to walk with you hand in hand."

Despite walking with their hands interlocked, Jolyne stayed a little behind. Even if Giorno gave a light squeeze from time to time, she needed to pull away a little, feeling overwhelmed. Then she noticed someone staring at her. As she met the gaze, she saw that it was an attractive woman who seemed to be evaluating her dress, although she couldn't be sure. You never knew where there might be an enemy. When the woman's eyes shifted to Giorno's ass, Jolyne relaxed. She seemed to be a normal human being.

"GioGio?" the woman said with a start.

Giorno turned, and the woman advanced to him. Once she was right in front, she stood up on her tippie toes to greet him Italian style, giving him two kisses on the cheeks. Very close to the mouth. To Jolyne's surprise, Giorno didn't sidestep her to continue walking forward. The woman then began to talk to him in Italian at full speed about how long it had been since she had last seen him, even commenting about the clothes he was wearing.

The woman was beautiful, that was undeniable. Her black hair was shiny, her brown eyes clever, and her tanned skin lucious. Although she was short, she was full of curves that were sheathed in an elegant terracotta-colored suit. Her voice was melodic, her Italian lilt rich, and she expressed herself with her whole body, gesticulating every word and taking the opportunity to touch Giorno lightly.

When Jolyne heard her call him 'my good friend' in a weird tone, it all became clear to her. The woman was that kind of friend. And she told him she wanted to catch up with him.

Oh.

"Giorno, I'm a little tired," she suddenly said, feeling her throat become dry. "If you want to stay, I can go back by myself."

"Sorry, I interrupted." The woman stepped away from Giorno, but not to leave. She instead moved forward to give Jolyne two kisses too. "My name is Vincenza Casano. And you must be Miss Regio, the woman Donatella Versace herself dressed. Although, it's more Gucci today. You are very pretty."

The woman's charming smile tasted like an insult to Jolyne, for it was evident from the way she looked at Giorno that she liked him and did not regard her as a rival. All at once, Jolyne felt as if it was she who was the small one and not the woman.

"Nice to meet you," Jolyne made herself say. "I know Bucciarati had to follow us closely, so can I go with him?" She looked Giorno straight in the eyes. "Please."

Giorno twisted his entire body to face her, still holding her hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but as she had anticipated, it didn't take Bruno long to get to where they were. Jolyne didn't say anything, only letting go of Giorno's hand, before stepping toward Bruno. He didn't ask questions nor address Giorno, taking her hand and guiding her to the nearest canal.

She shouldn't have looked back because then she wouldn't have seen Giorno's look of sadness, how he held back as usual so as not to make her uncomfortable. Maybe that way she wouldn't feel like sh*t. Those aquamarine eyes had silently pleaded with her to wait, but as always she ran away. Joestar Technique, she supposed.

Bruno helped her in mounting one of the small motorboats that were surely waiting in case they had to escape.

"Do you want to talk?" asked Bruno.

Jolyne shook her head. It would do no good because even she didn't understand herself. Bruno simply patted her on the head and murmured to her to rest. Maybe that was all she had to do, get some rest.

Chapter 44: Vent'Anni

Chapter Text

It turns out, rest was not what she needed at all. She shut her eyes, only to immediately regret it when she was haunted by the image of Giorno's sad eyes. She groaned, snapping her eyes open again.

"Jolyne, are you sure you don't want to talk about it? You know I'm here for you."

"I'm fine, Bruno. It's just the Hamon training. Coach is set on making sure she works me to the bone till they become so brittle that I'll never get the chance to outlive her and dance on her grave when she's five feet under."

Bruno frowned at her half-hearted humor, not looking convinced. His blue eyes were filled with concern for her.

Jolyne was grateful for him, but she was not ready to talk to anyone. What she wanted was to lock herself away and die of embarrassment alone. It was the least of what she deserved for running away like a little girl the second Giorno gave someone else a little attention.

Thinking of his lonely figure that she had left behind, she felt her heart sink in her chest.

'What have I done?'

Their 'little'date had been going wonderfully, and even if that woman intruded, that was no reason for Jolyne to act in the manner she had. Her response had been so…immature. A huge contrast from the confident, mature atmosphere that Ms. Casano had exuded.

Staring at the water below, she caught sight of her distorted reflection looking back at her. Wide-eyed and naive, a girl barely out of high school. That's who she really was. Maybe that was the real reason why she had fled with her tail between her two legs. While Stella Torchio and the other shameless admirers triggered her fight response, this rival that put them to shame made her switch to flight. Inadvertently, she had made way for someone who felt more worthy to stand beside Giorno.

Her gloomy thoughts were put on pause as the boat arrived at the harbor before the palazzo's main gate. Jolyne thanked Bruno for dropping her off and stepped onto the harbor. With just a few quick steps, she was right at the entrance, only to find someone loitering there, waiting for her.

"Jolyne, can we talk?"

It was Romeo's voice. Her first broken heart. Just what was it with lovers from the past coming back today? Truthfully, she had completely forgotten all about him being in Venice. She recalled that he had gotten his passport back a few days ago yet somehow managed to spill coffee all over it only an hour later. That could be why he was still here.

Maybe she really should talk to him, get him off her back once and for all. She owed him that much; he had been kidnapped because of her, after all. Another scared kid who had no business in the world of the big bad adults of Italy.

"I guess I have time," she told him, resigned to having an unpleasant conversation.

She followed her ex inside the palazzo. He had only been there for a few days, yet he moved about the place with ease, behaving as if he were the host and not a guest who was overstaying his visit. He continued to lead her until they arrived at the balcony where she had run into Giorno the other day. Trying to shake off the nagging thought that he had chosen to stay with Ms. Casano instead of going after her, she focused her attention on Romeo instead, who gazed out at the scenery thoughtfully before turning to her.

"I have something to say to you," he said expressionlessly. When he was sure he had her undivided attention, he continued. "I want to break up with you."

Jolyne stared at him. She waited for him to smile or give some kind of indication that he was joking, but when he didn't, she realized he was completely serious.

The grave mood popped as she burst out into laughter. Romeo frowned, taking a step back as she grappled for something sturdy to hold on to, maybe the balcony railing. Otherwise, she might think she was dreaming. It was just too surreal.

He had chased her all the way to another continent, got himself kidnapped by Donatello, and stuck around all this while instead of going back home…to break up with her?

"I don't see what's so funny about this," he said angrily. "Is our relationship a big joke to you? Because, technically, up until now, you've been cheating on me. Now we're going to have a proper break-up. And before you ask, it's not just because of your unfaithfulness."

He raised a haughty eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"Jolyne, it hurts me to say this, but someone young and innocent like you makes easy prey for certain men. They'll tell you sweet lies to trap you and then throw you away like you're a toy when they're done with you."

He seemed to miss the irony in his own words. Jolyne broke her gaze and instead observed the scenery.

"Even though I'm going to dump you," he continued, "that doesn't mean I want you to be in a tough spot. I want to protect you, which is what I'm doing by telling you to be careful with that guy. That guy you're seeing could be dangerous, and soon, I won't be here to protect you anymore."

Jolyne whipped around to face him, feeling her last drop of patience leaving her.

"Do you really think you can protect me? YOU?!" Romeo bristled at her accusing finger, surprised at her outburst. "You've never protected me. Hearing you say you want to defend me from someone else, I don't know whether to feel bad for you or to laugh. You, Romeo, have never been able to defend anyone. Or do anything by yourself, for that matter. You've only ever thrown around money that belongs to your dad and flaunted a face that, honestly, isn't even much... "

"What do you have to say about my face, huh?" he said angrily, taking a menacing step forward. Jolyne flinched but didn't back up, standing her ground. "Apparently, you've made a couple of co*cks turn hard and put on one of their expensive dresses, so now you think you're somebody. Well, let me tell you, my father has done the same with each of his mistresses." He started pointing his index finger accusingly at her in the way she did before. "That's what you're going to become and nothing more. The mistress of a rich man. And maybe if you're lucky, he'll plant a little bastard inside you to pass on child support to. Otherwise, you have nothing to make a man want to stay with you."

Jolyne felt the muscles in her arms tense, just waiting for her to release her pent-up feelings. A good slap might set him straight; he was practically asking for it. But she forced herself to stand still. If she knew her strength at all, then she was sure that Romeo wouldn't be getting just a bruise on his cheek if she hit him. A Hamon warrior always protected the weak and, unfortunately, Romeo fell into that category.

She took a couple of deep breaths, counting to ten. Only when she felt calmer did she speak.

"Listen, I'm really sorry you came all the way here for nothing, so I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." She turned around, showing her back to him. "Try not to cross me before you go back home."

Her plan was to return to her room with as much dignity as she could and avoid him for the rest of the time. However, Romeo stepped toward her, grabbing her arm with tight force.

"Where are you going?" he said. "You're acting as if I'm crazy and you're not the one to blame here."

"Romeo. Let go. Right now."

"You know what? I've had a lot of time to think about this lately, and it just hit me that all the sh*t that's been happening to me started after I met you." He squeezed her arm harder, which would have ended up leaving bruises had her body been soft like it was a few months ago. "The accident had me so f*cked up, I couldn't drive without fear for months. The abduction was terrifying too. And that was all your fault. You're cursed and you break everything you touch. Maybe Donatello winning would have been a pretty fair thing."

Something in Jolyne snapped. Freeing herself from his grip in a fluid motion, she used the same momentum to slam her hand into his face hard.

Slap!

The stunned look on his face brought her a sense of satisfaction, relieving much of the frustration that had built up since that morning. The feeling was only momentary, however. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood trickling from Romeo's face.

Noticing her gaze, he brought his hand to his broken-looking nose in confusion and felt the wetness. She watched his expression transform when he realized what it was.

"Urgh! Ahhhh!"

Jolyne whipped around, hurriedly leaving the balcony. From behind, she heard Romeo continue to screech pathetically in the same spot.

She didn't regret hitting him. He had gone too far with what he said. She was also starting to think that his kidnapping was karma he had brought unto himself for having bad intentions from the very beginning. She just wished she hadn't underestimated her own strength and lost control. Whether or not he deserved it, Lisa Lisa would be disappointed if she saw how quickly Jolyne had lost her temper.

Running away and resorting to blows; how very mature of her.

Locking herself in her room wasn't either, but at the moment, she just wanted to have time alone with peace and quiet. She threw herself on her bed, lying face down and letting her weight sink into the mattress. Unfortunately, not even a few minutes passed before a knock came from the door.

Jolyne groaned, lifting her head. It must be Bruno, who had come to coax her with sweet words she didn't want to hear.

"JoJo, it's Mom. Can I come in?"

Great. This made it all the worse. Still, she got up and trudged toward the door, opening it for her.

"I heard that you punched Romeo and broke his nose," Marena said.

"I—"

Her mom cut her off. "I wish I had your strength when I met that idiot outside the courtroom. It looks to just be a broken nose, but he's screaming as if someone crushed his testicl*s. Josuke refuses to take a look at him, so some staff members are bringing him to a doctor."

A sense of satisfaction overwhelmed Jolyne at those words, and she felt no shame admitting that to herself. Then remembering what happened earlier on in the crowded streets, she lost all strength and collapsed on the bed again, face down. She didn't have the courage to face the world.

"Giorno asked me out, you know," she said, her voice slightly muffled due to having her face pressed against the mattress. "For real and not just for the sake of a role we have to play."

"Oh honey, that's wonderful! It was about time. Anyone with a pair of functional eyes could see how he feels for you. In fact, when I first arrived, I thought you two were already going out together and were trying to hide it from me."

Jolyne lifted her head to look at her in surprise. "You mean it? You don't mind at all?"

Her mom patted her shoulder. "He isn't the most ideal choice for my son-in-law because of his... business, but I'm beginning to understand that the world you and your dad move in is far from ordinary, so it isn't fair to judge things from a normal lens. It would have been nice to know that when I started dating your dad though."

Jolyne hesitated, contemplating something, before saying, "I did something stupid."

"It can't be that terrible."

"Well, what happened was... Have you ever felt weak and small? As if you're suddenly hit with the realization that no matter how elegantly you dress, you don't truly belong?"

"Jolyne, just tell me what happened."

"We ran into one of Giorno's, uh, former special friends while on our date."

Marena let out a breath in understanding.

Thinking about it now, Giorno had probably had several mistresses before her. He was an Italian man after all, and a wealthy one at that. It's not like he had even tried to hide that fact from her. She recalled him vaguely mentioning his dating history back when they visited the museum in Rome. It just felt different seeing one of those mistresses in person than just hearing about them.

Jolyne grunted in disgust. "That woman made me feel, I don't know, like an idiot child. She was so mature and elegant, knowing how to carry herself. Then meanwhile, there's me, who probably looked like a little girl dressing up as a grown woman for Halloween."

Marena tapped on the mattress to get her daughter to come closer. Without another word, she began to undo Jolyne's braid and slowly loosened her hair before starting to brush it. It was just like when she used to be little. Jolyne leaned into her touch.

"With all that has happened, it's very easy to forget that until recently, you were a girl fresh out of high school." She looked a little closer at her daughter's hair. "Your roots are already showing under the dye. A very flattering color, by the way. Wasn't it the day before the accident that you dyed your hair? So much time has passed since then... Yet you haven't even turned twenty. Do you want me to tell you what I was doing when I was twenty?"

"You had just left Italy, right?" Jolyne said, having heard the story countless times.

"Yes, but before that, I had to decide whether to come with my family or to stay here. Did I ever tell you that I had a boyfriend? Of course, I told you that Paolo existed, but not that he threatened me, saying that if I left, he would never speak to me again. So, as you can imagine, that same day, I started packing my bags, swearing that I would never fall in love again. Not that I had much time to when I was moving to a country where they spoke a language that I knew relatively well but did not consider mine. And the change in the educational system..."

Jolyne waited for her mom to start ranting about the education system instead. Marena had a variety of topics she was passionate about, like the transport system and taxes. Thankfully, she didn't talk about the health system more often; Jolyne had the impression that her mom would lead a revolution. Marena seemed lost in her memories, however.

"Everyone seemed so outrageous when I first started going to class, and I'll remind you that I grew up in a place where people talk loudly by nature. But if there was one person I really disliked in class, it was a guy who always made my classmates' hormones rage." Marena gave a wistful chuckle as she continued brushing her daughter's hair. "I hated him more than them, but he was very handsome and sexy, something good to look at, at least. Anyway, it was all confusing. I was your age, and even though my life was much easier than yours, I remember it being chaotic."

"I guess the lesson is that it ended up going all right," Jolyne said.

"My classmates were getting on that super hot guy's nerves, so he ended up sitting next to me. He was always serious, but just like me, he had recently come to the country. I had a hell of a time getting information out of him. You know your dad..." Marena got up to get the makeup remover, trying to remove the mess the emotional outburst had made on her daughter's face. "My promise to never notice men again was short lived, especially when some sleazy thug tried to threaten me. I was telling him I wasn't going to let him bully me when your father came up from behind. He told me that I seemed to be handling the situation well, but if I needed help, he'd stick around. So, I hit the thug, and your dad carried him over one shoulder to a campus guard. The poor guy was so terrified of him, I almost felt sorry for him."

"So you were lost and ended up marrying a man only because you guys both disliked the same kind of people," said Jolyne, turning a deaf ear to the part about her dad being extremely sexy. "Are you trying to say I shouldn't date Giorno?"

"No, I mean that I was lost, yet without powers or being half as strong as you, I managed quite well with your dad." Marena gave up on the hairstyle, leaving her daughter's hair loose and curly as it was rarely seen. "If anyone can find themselves and choose what they want, it's you. And you're no less than Giorno or any man or woman on the face of the Earth."

The two looked at each other and Jolyne hugged her mom, grateful for her kind words. Talking to her always helped. Her mom may not be physically strong or have a Stand, but she was very capable and loved her daughter dearly.

"Wow, it's gotten too boring even for a peek." Rohan's loud voice came from the other side of the door.

"Rohan!" Josuke was heard. "We're not eavesdropping, just politely waiting for you to finish talking."

"Well, you were waiting, I was eavesdropping." Without further ado, Rohan opened the door. "I mean, if you needed love advice, you could have just asked me, yet you went to your mom... You have no idea of my expertise on love. I once wrote a romantic story and did a lot of research..."

He looked at Josuke, who cleared his throat, before continuing.

"And oh yeah, I've been maintaining a good relationship with a difficult person for years. That's why I can be immensely helpful. You could even ask your favorite gruncle, who is also the best mangaka in the world with Naoko Takeuchi's permission, to be on call in case he has to somehow renew the commands on a certain mafioso..."

Rohan looked at Marena.

"I'm going to give sexual advice to your daughter. Are you okay with that, or would you rather step out?"

Marena thought about it for a moment. She was open with her daughter and had no problem talking about sex, but if she had learned anything, it was that the mangaka might be a little too extreme for her. She considered staying in the hope that Rohan might slow down the pace, but then thinking it over, she realized it would probably be a wasted effort. Hence, she got up and waved goodbye to her daughter.

Josuke seemed to have the same idea. "I've been dating him for years, so I know him well enough to know that there are conversations I don't want to hear him have with my lovely grandniece."

"They're so easy to scare away," Rohan said after they both left. "There are only so many ways to hold off Giorno's thirst in a potentially sexual situation, but I could certainly manage to allow you to go beyond a kiss while still keeping the command intact. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

His designer clothes tightened as he stretched before sitting on the bed elegantly with perfect posture.

"I wanted to talk to you about you being intimidated by Giorno and his track record. Quick, tell me who you are and who he is." He snapped his fingers, not allowing for hesitation.

"I'm Jolyne Kujo, a 19 year old student who has not yet been accepted to a university because I don't even know what I want to study," she said, spurred by the snapping fingers. "And he's Giorno Giovanna, Don of Passione and perhaps the most powerful Stand user in the world."

"That's certainly one way of looking at it. But you're also Jolyne Kujo, the woman who saved herself despite all the traps set for her in prison just by using your intelligence alone. Jolyne Kujo, heiress of the Joestar clan, which besides being wealthy, saved the world several times and belongs to British nobility. On the other hand, we have Giorno Giovanna, delinquent." Rohan raised one of his profiled eyebrows while raising his head with an eloquent gesture. "Both what you have said and what I have said are true. It depends on how you look at it. And I assure you that you Joestars are all intimidating creatures that make their mates wonder if they are truly worthy of them. Even if one of those mates happens to be the greatest living artist of our generation."

"Thanks, Rohan," Jolyne said sincerely. "I guess you're right."

"I always am. Now go and kiss him. He needs to learn to be less dependent on Heaven's Door though. He used to cope fine without it." He got up and went straight to the closet. "Tomorrow, we're going shopping because, unfortunately, you have a problem. It's that you don't know how to deal with certain types of people. But have no fear, for I, Rohan Kishibe, am going to teach you."

"Teach me what? How to deal with bitches?"

"Well, partly," he said, pulling out a pink blazer. "And no better way that than showing you how to be the biggest bitch in the country."

Chapter 45: I Belong To You

Chapter Text

"I can't believe you even thought about going in the same outfit. Shame on you." Rohan pulled out a pink wool mini dress with the Gucci symbol printed all over it. "Have some tact, will you? You have to present yourself to him dressed in a relaxed, comfortable way."

'Who actually wears Gucci for comfort?' Jolyne complained in her heart. Then she realized just who she was standing before. What the hell, surely even Giorno was that kind of person too. She was already beginning to know his closet background.

Rohan stepped out to leave her privacy to change, or at least his version of privacy, which was to stand on the other side of the door, hurrying her along.

"Good, excellent. Let's leave your hair as it is too. We want to make an impression after all," he said, inspecting her as if he were a sergeant to her soldier before going into combat. "Now go. Go and kiss him, and if he suggests anything else, you tell him you have an unavoidable appointment tomorrow with me. And it's unavoidable because if I have to use my Stand so that you don't forget about it, I will."

Despite all his eccentricity, Jolyne had to admit that she felt a little more confident by the end of the dressing session because of his help. Stepping into the hallway, she asked a passing maid if the master of the house had returned and was told that he was in the office.

"He has instructed that no one is to disturb him. Unless, of course, it's Miss Jolyne," the maid added.

With that, Jolyne loitered in front of the office door for a few moments. The impression she got from what the maid told her was that he was expecting her. Was he so confident that she would come back to him? After all, she was only a child; a person her wouldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to date someone like him.

No, Giorno wasn't like that. He wasn't perfect; she knew his negative qualities all too well, for he himself had taken it upon himself to show them to her as a warning many times. She reminded herself that he was not like Romeo. If he had given her that opportunity, it was because he hoped she would come see him. Maybe the Don of Passione, the invincible man...was a little afraid of her. Or at least of how she made him feel, enough for him to not go after her himself.

Jolyne took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Hey, it's me," she said. "May I come in?"

"Sure. Come in," he replied right away.

His tone might pass unnoticed by others, but Jolyne noted the anxiousness even with the door in the way.

She opened the door and saw him halfway. It was obvious that he had gotten up in haste to open it for her. Now they stood face to face.

Giorno had not changed his clothes, but his shirt hung loosely over him and the corset rested on a nearby chair. His hair was still the usual fantasy of golden curls, but it looked less neat, perhaps from nervously running his hands through it many times. It could hardly be counted as disheveled, as he looked ready for a catwalk, but compared to how he looked that morning, she could tell he was much less composed in his appearance. Perhap he had also dived straight into work, not even stopping by his room for more comfortable clothes. And all because of her.

"Are you very busy?" she asked him, trying to start a conversation without quite knowing how.

"No more than usual," he replied, stretching his hand lightly towards her hair, but stopping short, as if unsure whether she would allow his touch. "I've never seen you with your hair down before. You look beautiful, as always."

Even though she felt strange with her hair down and all over the place, she liked his reaction. She let the compliment give her strength, because she was going to need all the courage she could muster after acting like an idiot that afternoon.

"I'm sorry I went off like that this afternoon," she began. "It's not your fault, I..."

"No, don't blame yourself. Maybe I got too excited and made you feel overwhelmed. From now on, I'll hold back more. You can rest assured, I didn't—"

Jolyne put her index finger over his mouth to make him shut up.

"You're not to blame for my doubts. My feelings are my own business, ok?" She removed her finger from his lips to caress his soft face. "Well, actually, I wanted to tell you the opposite. I've been talking to Rohan and he's brought something to my attention."

"Oh. Now I'm scared."

"Very funny, Rohan isn't so... Ok, yes, Rohan can be very intense, but whatever. He's been telling me that he can always put another command on you but that maybe, the best thing solution is for you to go without them, like before." She saw Giorno's gaze spark with curiosity. "And I think he's right. Imagine if it stopped working all of a sudden. You would be so unused to it that you might lose all control and... I'll be honest, I just really want you to kiss me."

Giorno was petrified on the spot, which coupled with his physique, made him look like a statue with flushed cheeks. He looked as shocked as if Pucci had come through the window asking for tea.

"If you want to do it, then sure. I'm not going to force you..." Jolyne said in a joking tone. She knew that Giorno was not at all opposed to the idea.

"I want to kiss you, Jolyne. More than you can imagine, for too long, but I'm afraid that I won't be able to control myself. I would never forgive myself..."

He could not finish expressing himself, for at that moment, his lips were possessed by hers. A bit of a rude shock but still a kiss on the lips by the one he loved. It was a gentle but prolonged brush, giving Rohan's Stand's command some time to inactivate.

"How do you feel?" she murmured against his mouth.

Giorno needed a moment before he answered. "A little scared, but I think overall good." He smiled a little. "I think I can kiss you more."

And he did, with more care and delight, unhurried as he at last took her lips. Yes, the hunger was awakening in him, but his desire for her had been growing so great that it could compete with the desire for blood without trouble.

He wanted to possess her, but he was used to that feeling. Perhaps he had to be careful with his teeth, but kissing her slowly was fine. Better than fine even. It was wonderful.

He sank his fingers into the hair he was seeing loose for the first time, softer than he had ever dreamed, to find a better angle to kiss her. The beast was howling inside him, but the man was completely in love, too happy to pay any attention to it.

"I could devote myself only to this," said Giorno, pulling away a few millimeters, just enough to let her catch her breath. "Kissing you. I think Passione could manage without me for a season."

"And your brothers?" she asked him, playing along.

"Donatello would definitely mind, but that's even better a reason to go along with it."

They languidly kissed again, unhurried, though they both knew they were going down a dangerous path. There must have been something special about that office; Giorno was grateful that she had found him there instead of in his room. That would have been dangerous.

He could have spent hours like that, but someone knocked on the door.

"Jolyne, if you're alive, give a sign! Although, your smooching is audible even from here, so I guess you're doing good," Rohan's voice came. "Remember, thoughtless one, I said I would be waiting in case you needed help. We have a lot of business to take care of tomorrow, so I don't recommend taking all night." Another murmur was heard on the other side of the door. "Josuke is also here asking me to be discreet, but at the same time, he says that for security, he prefers not to leave until you come out."

"Roh!" his partner shouted.

"The truth is the straightest path," Rohan replied.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" Giorno asked, pulling away a bit while tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "I could accompany you."

"No way!" Rohan shouted. "Now come on out. I need to sleep."

They both sighed, but they knew he was right. Besides, as powerful as Giorno was, the last person he wanted to fight in the world was Rohan. If he didn't master his vampire instincts, he was afraid of what he might do if he hurt anyone. And attacking him at Josuke's side... He had not seen the heir director of Joseph Joestar attack anyone. His soul was too kind and he focused on healing, but Giorno had been told that he was so formidable that even Dr. Kujo acknowledged his abilities.

"Good night," Jolyne said to him, giving him one last peck on the lips before leaving.

He followed her with his eyes and couldn't help but smile. A goodnight kiss from Jolyne, his girlfriend. Sometimes life could smile at him.

Killing Rohan Kishibe couldn't be that big of a problem. Josuke would get over it. Eventually. That's what Jolyne thought the next morning as Rohan continued to give her unkind but totally honest criticisms about her makeup.

"Have you lost your skills after all that Hamon training?" he said, snatching the brushes from her. "Or are all Joestar beasts incapable of understanding the art?"

She would have ended up strangling him if he hadn't turned out to be as good at painting on a face as he was on a canvas.

He had fitted her in a beautiful pink Gucci suit while he himself wore a suit with shorts and a garter belt. She would have laughed, but it fit him in a way she wouldn't have imagined would look so stylish.

Watching as Josuke blushed up to his ears, Jolyne could tell just what he thought about the shorts too. The three headed to the reception of the house, where Shizuka was waiting for them. Before that, however, they crossed paths with Giorno. At the sight of him, Jolyne's heart raced, remembering the previous night. The top three buttons of his shirt buttons were undone, exposing part of his sexy chest.

"Good morning, mia bella," Giorno greeted her, looking too composed. "You look beautiful."

As he was ruminating about whether to kiss her or not, Jolyne leaned forward and brought her lips to his. Quick but tender.

"W-Wonderful," he said with a blush as she stepped away. His gaze darted and caught sight of Rohan. "I like those pants. They suit you. I thought about shorts but didn't dare."

"Well, John Galliano knows his stuff. But perhaps, rather than a garter belt, you'd look better in a breast harness. Josuke, when he lets me put them on him, looks glorious in it..."

"Too much information," Jolyne said, covering her ears and pushing Rohan along, though not before giving Giorno one last meaningful look. "I hate it when you're always right."

On their way to the main entrance, they ran into another person. This time Jolyne groaned. Romeo's wound had been treated without help from either of the two miracle healers in the house, so he was stuck wearing a silly-looking nose brace.

As she debated on what to do, she felt a weight on her back, a hand pushing her to keep walking. Rohan silently steered her in the direction of the reception area.

As they neared Romeo, he finally caught sight of them. His step froze, but then seeing Rohan's hand on Jolyne, his eyes narrowed.

"You, stop for a second," he said in a nasally voice through his brace.

Rohan ignored him and they walked right past him, but then Romeo hurled an insult.

"You hit me, and now you're going with this fa*ggot when I'm talking," he said, his voice dripping with disgust.

Rohan's eyes were cold as he released Jolyne and turned around. "Excuse me, but I'm not a hom*osexual. My boyfriend is. A common mistake among ignorant people like you." With a movement so fast that it was barely perceptible, Rohan invoked Heaven Doors.

"I can order him to fly to Florida and forget you completely," he said to Jolyne.

Romeo had not lost consciousness only because Rohan had not wanted him to, so he was shaking with fear without understanding what was happening to him.

"I could even order him to disappear in a more permanent way." When Rohan saw Jolyne's horrified expression, he smiled at her. "It was a joke, but I have something else in mind that will hurt more than that."

Rohan scribbled something on Romeo's trembling arm. When Jolyne caught a glimpse of the words, she nodded in approval.

A few hours later, Romeo would board a plane that would take him on a long flight with many layovers. He felt something strange in his right arm, but after a few hours, he forgot about it, as he forgot most of what had happened to him in Italy and eventually even about the girlfriend he had had a while ago who had gone to jail.

He didn't have much time to think about those things, as a feeling he couldn't quite grasp was driving him to keep studying hard to graduate with honors in law. He would spend his whole life defending poor clients pro bono and fighting the injustices of the system. He hated it, yet he couldn't stop, for when he thought about quitting, a strange pain would come over him that wouldn't go away until he was back to helping others.

Hating his job while he unable to stop working hard on it, Romeo lived his whole life punished in a way he didn't understand for something he couldn't remember. Punished, forced to be a good person, Romeo never saw Jolyne again.

Chapter 46: Adrenaline

Chapter Text

"Back straight and chest out," Jolyne repeated while Rohan nodded. "Head held high and tone assertive. I'm a Kujo, heir to the Joestars. I've destroyed Stand users and vampires." Her voice then gained confidence. "And I'm killing it in my Hamon training… Do I really have to do this?"

"If we don't want you to start thinking nonsense every time you meet an ex, yes, it's necessary. Joestars confront their problems, not run away," he lectured her, but then remembered the late Mr. Joestar. "Well, sometimes you people run away too, but that's not what you should do. Now, go at once, before Shizuka finishes distracting Josuke."

Josuke and Rohan's theories on how to deal with problems clashed diametrically. Josuke was an advocate of behavioral therapy while Rohan of attacking the problem at its root. Attacking it literally.

Rohan had been busy the day before learning up about Miss Casano after Jolyne's little crisis. He had looked up where she worked and had unilaterally decided that Jolyne was going to talk to her. Whether it was on good or bad terms would depend on Miss Casano, but they were ready for the worst.

The store was expensive, like all the ones in the area, which meant it was even expensive for Venice. He was not surprised, he knew that Miss Casano and Giorno had met in that tailor shop where he purchased many of his custom-made suits. 30 years and running, it was one of the most exclusive tailor shops in the world; you couldn't even get in without an appointment. Rohan had pulled contacts to get one so fast.

They were greeted at the door by two employees who directed them to where Miss Casano was, although Rohan excused himself to stay behind, asking about one of the showroom garments. Of course, it sounded realistic considering he was wearing an original Galliano. It wouldn't be unusual for him to buy whatever had caught his eye either.

"Buona sera, signior Kishi... You are not Mr. Kishibe." The woman looked Jolyne up and down, as if analyzing her, although it was obvious that she had recognized her. "If you wanted a date, I'm always willing to do a favor to an old friend, as you know."

Jolyne looked at her as she had practiced, all the while screaming 'slu*t!' internally.

"I don't always need help from Giorno. Why would I need it to talk to you, Miss Casano?"

"Usually, people in your position take advantage of it, Miss Regio." She smiled politely at Jolyne. "You can call me Vincenza, or Vinnie, since it's easier for English speakers."

"Yeah, whatever Ms. Casano." Jolyne made a vague hand gesture of disengagement. "I think there was a misunderstanding the other day. It looks like I ran off, but actually, I didn't."

"Of course, you didn't, Miss Regio," she replied in such a calm tone that it got on Jolyne's nerves. "Why would you think that?"

Jolyne couldn't stand that placid, self-paying smile that got on her nerves, but at the same time, she knew she couldn't get out of it by punching her way out as usual. Why had she listened to Rohan? And where the hell was he anyway?

"It was stupid of me to come here," Jolyne finally said. "I think I'd better leave."

"Please, miss, can I have a word? Just a minute. Besides, you've already booked the time with me."

Jolyne took a seat warily as she watched the other woman sit gracefully across from her.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand what's going on. Everything about Signore Giovanna is a mystery to me, for my own safety. But I have gotten to know him a little, and I have never seen him look the way he did that day when he was with you, not even in front of the bulletproof fabric that simulates Egyptian cotton," she said, broadening her smile, as if it were a particularly funny joke. "I know Signore Bucciarati. You must be extremely important to Signore Giovanna for him to have assigned Signore Bucciarati as a bodyguard, and I don't just mean political importance within his particular organization. And I don't think I'm wrong in saying that you are surely more than capable of protecting yourself alone."

"It is difficult to explain. And I think it's also secret," Jolyne explained.

"I understand, I don't need explanations. What I want to tell you is that you have worked a miracle. I believe that you have obtained Don Giovanna's heart, which many people would swear he doesn't even have."

The woman rose with the same elegance and crossed the room to a filing cabinet, where she pulled out an elegant card. She scribbled an address on it.

"This is a gift. You don't have to use it if you don't want to, but it's a token of goodwill." Vinnie extended the card to her. "Signore Giovanna has always liked pink."

Jolyne didn't immediately take it. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because Giorno spends a huge amount of money on my clothes, and I don't want to lose his patronage if the woman he's fallen in love with looks at me wrong, bella."

Jolyne hadn't expected the conversation to turn out that way. She had gone to confront one of Giorno's exes who despised her, not to meet a woman who was going to be supportive. Gods, at that moment, she hated Rohan for convincing her into doing this.

Vinnie was beautiful; even in her previous state of jealousy, Jolyne was able to appreciate that, but now that she was calmer and being so nice to her, that made her even more nervous. No one could blame an innocent 19-year-old girl for getting nervous when surrounded by such beautiful people.

"Surely, you're strong enough to stand by the Don's side, but if you need a little moral support... Well, that's what my gift is for, Miss Regio."

"Yare yare, you can call me Jolyne. No one calls me Miss Regio." She hushed up the part where no one called her that because it wasn't her name. "I think I should rescue your employee from Rohan."

"Rescue who?" said Rohan, making the entrance at the right time. "It's an interesting store."

"But not as interesting as your outfit, signore. Very few men dare to wear something like that and wear it so beautifully." Before Jolyne's eyes, a miracle unfolded: she thought she saw a slight blush on the mangaka's perfect pale complexion. "I know it was some sort of ruse so that your friend could talk with me in private, but if you are signore Kishibe, I would love to create something for you. Do you know what it feels like when you meet someone who makes the Muses sing for you?"

At that very moment, it was clear to Jolyne that Rohan was going to spend a tremendous amount of money on clothes. But she didn't expect what she heard next.

"Do you have experience in groom's suits? Oh, sorry Jolyne, can you wait outside?"

The thousands of questions crowding her mind blocked her to the point where she obeyed Vinnie's slight 'per favore' before. Or maybe, during the commotion, Rohan had used his Stand to get her out of there. She wasn't entirely sure, but she found herself heading for the exit, where she met up with the rest of the group.

"Where's Rohan?" Josuke asked worriedly, though knowing him, he was probably more worried about whoever might be with Rohan than him.

"He's inside," Jolyne said, knowing she had to change the conversation. "Did you buy what he picked out for you?"

"Of course, he wants to go to a dinner at a special place, probably to get more experience for his sleeve, and he told me he doesn't want me to go in 'rags'," Josuke told her in a bored tone, to which Jolyne had to bite her tongue to keep from letting out a scream.

As Josuke looked at the window display, Jolyne looked at Shizuka, who returned an excited look. A possible wedding in the middle of everything that was going on was weird, but at the same time... It was what she needed, to let love win for once in the middle of all the bullsh*t. She didn't know if their marriage would be legal, but neither was jailbreaking and yet there she was, shopping in Italy.

"Oh, mom is calling me," Shizuka interrupted them, making them both focus on her. "Oh, hey mom! We're shopping. What about you?... Yes, I'm with Josuke and Jolyne. Rohan is inside a store… Ok, I'll put her on."

Without a word, she handed the phone to Jolyne, who suddenly felt nervous. She hadn't spoken to her great-grandma in years.

"Jolyne, my little star," said an excited yet tired voice on the other end of the line. "It's Suzie. Remember me?"

"Of course, I remember you, great-grandma." Her eyes felt moist and her vision was slightly blurry. "How could I forget the best cook in the world?"

"I wish I could cook you something, but oh, my old bones ache," she complained from the other side of the world. "Still, will you come see me?"

"Of course, I will, great-grandma. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

"And I you, my little star," she answered with a voice full of tenderness. "Will you bring a boyfriend from Italy?"

Jolyne protested, but the old lady laughed. It was obvious that she had privileged information.

"A handsome Italian boyfriend, blond by all accounts. In the end, the Joestar blood always does the same... Bring him along too. We have a wedding to prepare for. Don't protest, I know you think you're too young, but in the end, we Joestars always marry young. Except for my Josuke, but only because he has the legal problem and Roh is as handsome as he is stubborn."

Her tone of voice made it clear to Jolyne that she had inside information about that too. She imagined Rohan talking to Suzie and Josuke's mother about it, as if he cared nothing about the women's opinions but still deep down wanted their approval. And she realized that if they went ahead, surely, Giorno would want to do the same with her dad.

At the thought of Giorno as her fiancé, she couldn't help but blush. The idea of it… surprisingly didn't bother her at all.

"When this is all over, maybe instead of you coming, I should go and visit you in my homeland and see Mrs. Lisa Lisa. She looks younger than me, doesn't she?" Suzie said cheerfully. "I have to hang up, dear. I have to decide what we are going to eat today, and it isn't an easy decision. But now I have to plan a trip to Italy too."

The old woman hung up as she could be heard talking excitedly to someone, a male voice. Josuke clarified it was Okuyasu.

Now she just had to go get the package Vinnie had given her to the address on the note. What would it be? Maybe some shoes. The name of the place didn't ring a bell. When Rohan had left (they waited for him in a coffee shop, because it took half an hour longer) they went to the site. They all waited expectantly to see what the gift was, but when Jolyne opened it to take a peek, she immediately closed it again with a blush. Yes, no doubt Giorno would like it, but she didn't want her family to see it.

They had bought a lot of things, eaten delicious food, and had a lot of things to keep quiet about, but overall, it had been a great day. They were returning to the palazzo when, almost as soon as they arrived, Jolyne saw the glint of a sniper's rifle on the palazzo in front of them.

Chapter 47: Shum

Chapter Text

Jolyne barely had time to let out an exhausted sigh before hurriedly taking off her shoes. She was going to need her feet free for this.

The floor of the motorboat felt cool against the soles of her feet, but when she leaped out over the edge and into the water, she found that the canal water was cooler. Quickly finding her footing on the Hamon-charged water, she began running. Her training was paying off once again, for she moved much faster than their motorboat. A single glance confirmed that the rifle was pointed directly at Giorno's office, whose unmistakable blond hair could be glimpsed through the window.

Her companions finally took notice of what she was doing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shizuka trying to get out and join her, but Josuke pulled her back in. The motorboat, maneuvered by Rohan, changed direction and started following her.

Golden sparks mingled with water droplets as she took long strides. She threw her left arm forward, unraveling it into strings before fixing it on one of the window shutters of the house she wanted to reach to further accelerate her run before jumping straight inside.

As soon as she entered through the window, someone spoke up.

"You're cursed and you break everything you touch."

Jolyne froze for a moment, finding familiarity in the voice and those words. For a second, she wondered if Rohan's curse had failed and Romeo actually stayed back in Venice. But no, it couldn't be; she knew how powerful the mangaka was. Scanning the room, it seemed completely empty. That could only mean one thing.

Realizing she would have to deal with a hidden assailant that was not only armed with a sniper but also possessed a Stand ability, she immediately became extra alert.

"You're constantly giving me hope…"

It was a new voice, this time belonging to Anasui. Chills crawled up Jolyne's spine when hearing the voice of a dead man whose funeral she'd held only weeks ago. She immediately shot one of her strings to probe in the direction it came from, near one of the walls.

"I can see hope for myself through you, and I've never felt this way... not in a prison, not in the outside world."

There it was. Attached to the surface of the wall was a small mouth that was the same color as the wall. She had almost missed it because of how well it camouflaged with its backdrop. Despite being found out, the lips continued moving, forming cruel words.

"That's why I'm here."

Jolyne felt a hot flash of pain in her chest as if stabbed by an arrow, remembering how Anasui had died only because he followed her. She punched the mouth, not wanting to hear anymore. However, another voice spoke up, and then another and another. All were familiar to her; some were her loved ones and others were her enemies. Regardless of who it was, the words they spoke grated at her heart. She couldn't get to all the mouths fast enough to make them shut up before another one would start, the volume getting louder and louder.

'STOP IT!'

Unable to stand them anymore, Jolyne immediately covered her ears. That left her defenseless to the first blow. A fist attached to a slender arm punched her hard in the stomach. She immediately doubled over in pain.

Resisting the pain, Jolyne lifted her head and connected gazes with her attacker. She saw a young woman with a short bob of dark hair and two long green braids on either side of her head. Jolyne didn't know where the attacker had come from, but what was important was that she was now in plain sight.

The attacker must not have counted on Jolyne being able to react so quickly despite being caught off guard. Surely, she also must have also not expected Jolyne to unravel her own ears into strings in order to mute all sound and focus on spreading the other strings throughout the room.

One of those things where the noise was coming from bit into Jolyne's string, but she didn't so much as flinch, aiming a direct kick at the opponent's face.

The fight didn't last too long. Still deaf and also scared, Jolyne might have hit the attacker a couple of times too many even though her Stand had stopped shouting.

Just as she raveled her strings back into her ears again, she was greeted by a mini explosive sound in the room. There was a newly formed hole in the wall next to her, with a fist sticking through. As the rest of the wall crumbled away, Josuke came in at full speed, only to find a fuming Jolyne on top of the strange girl.

"Little Jojo, Giorno has texted me to tell you that this woman is one of his own. Can you please stop hitting her now?"

Jolyne's hostility fizzled slightly, and she looked at the rather pissed-off woman below her with surprise. She'd never seen her even once while staying at the palazzo, but it shouldn't be a surprise that Giorno had plenty more subordinates he wouldn't have told her about.

"Oh, crap." Embarrassed, Jolyne released her grip and stood up before offering her hand. "Sorry."

The woman ignored her to stand up on her own.

"Well, ok then," Jolyne muttered.

"Walking on water was pretty cool. I wasn't expecting that," Rohan said, stepping in through the collapsed wall. Then sweeping his gaze over the woman, he said, "How about we question her before her boss arrives?"

"Hell no!" Josuke shouted before turning to Jolyne to heal her scratches. Seeing that she seemed to be thinking about it as well, he said, "Enough, both of you."

He finally turned to the other woman, who had yet to even tell them her name, and approached her with his stand to heal her, but she shook her head firmly.

"The bottom edge of your pants is wet," Shizuka said, having appeared next to Jolyne at some point. "This could only mean you haven't channeled the Hamon through your feet properly. Master's not going to like that."

As Jolyne protested, the mysterious woman watched their exchange coldly. Not only did the buns girl jump into business that had nothing to do with her, obstructing the woman's duty, but the things her Stand, Voodoo Child, spoke about were also very unsettling. Everyone had dark secrets, some more so than others, but few people were able to attract her boss' eye, especially a girl like this with such a messy history. Although she knew the girl wasn't a target, part of her couldn't help but want to slap her before the Don arrived.

However, that thought was interrupted by Giorno's voice.

"Sheila, are you okay?" He stood in the doorway, scanning the wounds that covered her. "You should let Josuke take care of you."

Sheila straightened in his presence. "Um, with all due respect, Don, I'd rather you heal me."

Giorno thought nothing of it and manifested his Stand. He knew it was painful, but he had never received a complaint from her.

"What happened? Did you not have time to notice that it was Jolyne before attacking?" scolded Giorno. "Besides, I already told you that I don't need you to set up this kind of weapon, much less without warning me first. Jolyne could have killed you."

There was an exchange of glances between the two women. Jolyne, who was still upset about having to relive certain bad memories, gave her a smug look, while Sheila returned her an icy stare.

"Bene, since you are here, it would be best to introduce yourselves." Giorno sighed heavily as he was caught between the gazes of the two. "This is Sheila E. She's one of my bodyguards, but she was in Russia on a mission these past months, just like Mista. And this is Jolyne Kujo. You've heard of her, my girlfriend."

Realizing it was the first time one of them had said it aloud, Jolyne felt some shyness.

"Maybe…the bodyguard thing isn't a bad idea for when Jotaro finds out," Josuke said.

Behind their backs, there was an exchange in Japanese between Shizuka and Rohan, of which Giorno understood almost nothing. However, he was accustomed to hearing swear words in so many languages. Hence, he understood the words 'the bitch' and 'in love' perfectly, and figured out a few other things too from the tone they used.

"It was a bad start, but you can get to know each other better over dinner," offered Giorno conciliatorily.

Shizuka stood up. "That's not happening. Let me remind you, we're going back to Air Suplena tonight. It was one of the conditions that Master gave me to be able to come, that I take Jolyne back because she still needs training. Haven't you seen how awful she's been?"

Giorno and Jolyne exchanged glances. With one look, he knew what she was thinking. She had no intention to defy the old woman's orders, as Jolyne seemed to agree with Shizuka's evaluation. He sighed, accepting that it was time for another goodbye.

In Jolyne's villa bedroom, Marena gave her daughter a hug, pretending not to notice the suspicious vegetation growing outside the window. She decided to let the two lovers have their moment.

As soon as her mother left, Jolyne opened the window. Giorno entered with an elegance unbecoming of someone who had been hanging over the canals so precariously.

"I thought we still had a few hours together," Giorno said, resting his forehead against hers as he hugged her. "How can I say goodbye to you when you're finally mine?"

"I'm only going to be a few miles away," she said, breaking away only to give him a kiss on the cheek. "The truth is, for a moment, I thought I was going to sink into the canal. I need more training."

Giorno was going to say something else, but whatever it was was forgotten the moment Jolyne put her lips on his again. It was still shocking for him to be able to kiss her like that. His inner beast tensed, but the kiss was still as special as the previous times. She was so soft while at the same time strong, also determined. Her kiss told him she knew what she wanted, and it made him feel like he was hers.

Normally, someone being possessive of him was something he didn't like, but with Jolyne, it was different. Jolyne owned him from the moment she smiled at him. She was his mistress and his home. He finally understood that lust could be mixed with love.

The days without her were going to be long, but he had a lot of work to catch up on too. Sheila's return meant he probably had even more work than he bargained for. He must work hard and pacify everything if he wanted to have a life with Jolyne. So, after a few brief kisses, he let her go.

Later, in his office, Giorno sighed with relief when he received a message from Jolyne communicating that she had arrived at Air Suplena safely.

Even though he knew she was capable of defending herself, he could not help but worry about her whenever she wasn't with him. He supposed that to love was to worry constantly while also leaving the other person freedom.

"Do you really think she deserves you?" Sheila asked, entering the office and closing the door behind her. She didn't have to clarify who she was referring to.

Giorno closed his phone and put it aside.

"The person who took you down in a matter of a minute?" he asked with irony. "I don't want to talk about this. My relationship with Jolyne is not a topic on which you can have an opinion. I won't allow gossip and idiocy where she's concerned, whether it's from you, Fugo, or anyone else."

Looking up, he saw Sheila bite her tongue to keep from saying anything before she looked down. He knew she would obey him in the end. She always did.

"Have you learned anything during your time in Russia?" he said to change the subject and get to the important matter.

"Oh, yes, of course." She squared herself in the chair and then took out a tablet filled with top-secret information. "Following the clues that Zaitsev gave to Mista, I found an interesting text. I may not know much about your strange condition, but I think it might be useful. I was afraid to send it to you online because of the hacker issue."

"Is there a trustworthy Russian translator?" Giorno asked. "I think this might be beyond Abbacchio's skills."

"Is the Russian Abbacchio speaks good for anything other than talking to his grandmother or making Bucciarati horny?" Sheila asked before turning serious. "Sorry, boss. Maybe Fugo will be able to understand him. His accent is garbage, but he really likes reading old sh*t in Russian. When he found out I was going to Russia, he gave me a hard time about his favorite authors."

Giorno drummed his fingers on his desk, his brows furrowing. Entrusting something of utmost importance to Fugo never put him at ease. Deep down, he was clear that Fugo was trustworthy, but the seed of distrust still lay dormant between them. Besides, this was not just any old thing. What lay before him might possibly be the answer to the problem that had been plaguing him for years. Having to rely on someone he didn't quite trust didn't please him at all.

His face may seem impassive in those moments, but to anyone who had studied it in great detail, there was something buried beneath. Sheila could not deny that she had spent a lot of time looking at her boss's Apollonian face.

"Are you all right, boss?" she asked.

He laughed. "I'm fine, but I'm afraid you're soon going to understand that I'm the one unworthy of Jolyne."

Chapter 48: I Put a Spell on You

Chapter Text

"There's something sticking out of your shirt." Shizuka pointed out to Jolyne. "Is that lace?"

When Jolyne looked down and confirmed that a strip of pink lace had slipped out from underneath her blue tanktop, she hurriedly tucked it back in, grateful that they were still in the privacy of their room. Although the lone witness was only a 12-year-old girl, Jolyne couldn't meet her eyes, too busy fighting the blush that threatened to overtake her face.

There was nothing easy about what she planned to do. For starters, she couldn't even be certain that the gift she so generously received from Vinnie wasn't secretly poisoned. The woman, who was neither a real close friend of Giorno nor an ally of Passione, clearly knew how much Jolyne meant to the don; that alone made her dangerous. She was perfectly capable of using Jolyne to exploit Giorno's weakness. And when Giorno saw Jolyne in all her pink glory, he would certainly grow weak.

Standing before the wall mirror, Jolyne pushed aside a stray lock of hair in front of her eyes, admiring the dye job Shizuka had helped her with. The pair of girls had gotten to work applying pink dye, which Iulius had brought over from one of his visits to Venice, over Jolyne's green strands and her new roots a night ago. Jolyne had just wanted a change, but she had to admit that pink suited her a lot, much better than that unlucky green.

"I'm a girl too, you know, and not even that little," Shizuka grumbled. "If you didn't want me to overhear you whispering to your friends on the phone, you should have talked to them somewhere other than here."

Jolyne exited the room and then the building, heading towards the port. Shizuka followed her, continuing.

"I might not be experienced, but I've read a lot of romance novels. They were my mom's too. She doesn't know I swiped them from her shelf, of course. Unless Okuyasu tells her, she doesn't usually notice these things anymore. Oh, I also have expert advice I can give you from Rohan. To him, I'm not too young to know anything."

Jolyne sped up, but the little girl behind her matched her pace, speaking louder.

"Why don't you tell me how you feel about having a boyfri—" Shizuka cut herself off when she caught sight of Jotaro waiting at the dock.

"Dad!" Jolyne shouted. "And Great-great-grandma Lisa Lisa! What are you doing here? Come here to say goodbye to me?"

"We were waiting for you to join us so we may depart to Venice together," Lisa Lisa said slowly, her gaze seeming to dip to the edge of Jolyne's shirt. Fearing that something might have slipped out again, Jolyne unconsciously clutched it. "We have to talk to the boy don."

"Does it have anything to do with me?" Jolyne asked, fearing the worst.

"Not everything is about you, my dear," Lisa Lisa replied. "We need to talk about other Hamon matters that concern us, although you're more than welcome to participate in the discussion. Now, come on. The weather in the harbor isn't doing my bones any good."

"What about me?" Shizuka piped up. "Can I come too?"

"Your instructor informed me that you cheated during your training yesterday," Lisa Lisa said, "and that he's grounded you to repeat that exercise five times over the weekend. So, no."

As Shizuka trudged back to the island with a pout, Lisa Lisa sighed.

"Joseph, having discovered his Hamon at a young age, was quite the cheater himself. It looks like he taught that girl some of his tricks from infancy."

As the old woman got on the ship, all the ship staff hurried to obey her orders. Lisa Lisa was like the queen of that island, and the disciples of the Hamon were her loyal subjects. But admiration didn't only come from her apprentices, as the people of the Speedwagon Foundation obeyed her in the same way. She was so charismatic that everyone listened to her without question.

"Pink suits you," she told Jolyne while passing her, looking toward her blue tanktop again. Jolyne didn't know how she knew, but she was just glad Lisa Lisa didn't seem to be in the mood to tell her dad.

Speaking of her old man, he moved to stand next to Jolyne halfway through the short journey and started a conversation. "So, that's... another weekend of pretending to be Giovanna's girlfriend. Fortunately, this won't last long. Just hang on for a little more."

Jolyne, unsure of whether his apparent blindness was a gift or a curse, only nodded.

"But when this is over," he added, "it's better for you to spend some time somewhere else. Your mother and I think that maybe going to Morioh with your relatives would be best."

"I don't know," Jolyne replied, fidgeting with the end of her braid. "I do want to visit Japan and get back in touch with Great-grandma Suzie Q. and everybody else, but I also want to be introduced to Mom's relatives here."

'And there's a certain someone I want to be with too,' she thought inwardly.

As her dad stared at her, Jolyne forced herself not to fidget. No matter how much she had progressed in deciphering his expressions, he was still too much of a mystery. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, and maybe that's how it would always be.

Jotaro looked out to sea again. "A person who's achieved mastery with Hamon would be very helpful to the Speedwagon Foundation."

She let out a small laugh. "Funny, the prison guards used to say I was a nobody, yet here I am, a nepobaby. Air Suplena, Passione, and now even the Speedwagon Foundation."

"What? Passione?" Her dad whipped his head toward her again, the slight irritation in his voice palpable. "He dared to offer you a job?"

"I helped out on a mission, and it turned out that I was very good at my job," Jolyne quickly explained. "Giorno would be an idiot not to want me on his team, though his invitation seemed to be a joke."

Jotaro frowned but, perhaps sensing her mood, he thankfully didn't push the subject for the time being.

Jolyne took a deep breath. What she planned to do was probably going to disappoint him immensely, landing probably at the top of the list of things she had done in the last few months that he disagreed with. But she had already made her decision; this was what she wanted. She hoped that her dad would come to accept it eventually when they lifted the whole fake dating guise.

Seeing the Venice harbor up ahead, butterflies began to fill her stomach.

Upon arrival at the pier, they found Sheila waiting for them. The mobster woman gave Jolyne a brief look of contempt akin to one of a Green Dolphin Street prison guard before immediately looking away. Although Jolyne was already familiar with the way to the don's office, she followed after her like the others.

Giorno waited for them in his office that marked his position. The four filed into the room, which was arranged differently to allow for a small meeting to take place. Giorno greeted Lisa Lisa and Jotaro first and then Jolyne when she stepped out from behind her dad's towering frame. She was satisfied to note the surprise on his face when seeing her newly dyed pink hair. At the unrestrained way his heated gaze quickly ran up and down her form, her whole body became warm despite the cold dampness of the canals.

It didn't help that they were in the same room where, the only two times she entered before, she ended up running her mouth over various parts of him. As she took her seat, Giorno cleared his throat and swallowed, no doubt remembering those times too.

Something about him felt different, Jolyne realized, as she scanned him from head to toe in turn. It wasn't just the lack of his usual shyness—or rather, apprehensiveness—when something remotely sexual happened between them. He was brimming with a new kind of energy that day.

"We don't need to get into useless presentations, Giovanna," Jotaro said. "You called us here to ask us a favor. Since you helped Jolyne, we owe you."

"If I helped Jolyne, it was because my own blood-related family attacked her," Giorno said, becoming serious as he faced her dad. "She knows she owes me no debt. If anything, it would be the opposite."

"Yes, yes, we get it, so if we can get to the point... I'm old, Giorno, and I want to go home," Lisa Lisa said. "Don't try to be captivating or present the case with too many twists and turns."

Jolyne inwardly cheered. 'Yes, please end the meeting soon so that we can…'

"I'll be straightforward then," Giorno replied. "Sheila, give them the copies, per favore."

As soon as the papers were handed over, he began.

"For years now, I have been preoccupied with my vampiric condition. It's unusual in how it came about, activating without a stone mask and affecting all four of DIO's sons suddenly. We had no choice in the matter. While my brothers may have adapted and accepted the change, I would prefer to regain my humanity. That's why I've been using my sources to search far and wide." He paused, looking at each of them individually. "And now, I believe I've found a way at last."

Giorno looked at Jolyne specifically when he uttered the last part. Her heart leaped in her chest. So this was the change she had sensed in him. She almost stood up and reached for him but quickly caught herself. Not yet. They would have time to talk about it more personally later in private.

His gaze moved on as he continued. "And I need someone belonging to a lineage of witches,"

"What? Witches?" Jolyne said, startled. "Are you telling me they exist? Like the kind who wave wands and cast magic spells?"

Honestly, it shouldn't be too surprising. If vampires and zombies could exist, who was too say witches couldn't? What was next, ghosts and mermaids?

"Oh, yes," Lisa Lisa answered her. "There are many types of things that we could call magic in the world. Occult sciences, if you prefer. These can only be used by people born with the talent for it." She nodded to Jolyne. "Take yourself for example. Just like Joseph, you're able to use two kinds of abilities. I've heard of another force called Spin that you may be able to use if you put your mind to it. I know of many women who wield these type of talents that would call themselves witches and even consider me and you one, but there are indeed also witches who are capable of performing the classical kind of magic, casting spells and curses like in children's storybooks."

Jolyne muttered "bitchy witch", but Lisa Lisa ignored her, turning back to Giorno.

"Since we are warriors of the Hamon and committed to wiping out vampires... Knowing that there is a cure would be huge for us, so you can count on my help, boy."

The rest of the meeting was a blur for Jolyne. Before she knew it, her dad was accepting the papers that Giorno had given them and Lisa Lisa was assuring Giorno that she would read them carefully to find the best way to help him.

Jolyne sat up straighter. "So, is the meeting finished?"

Unfortunately, there was too much Italian blood gathered for the meeting to end before at least having dinner together.

Even though it was quite impromptu, the dinner was great. Their group was also joined at the dinner table by Marena, Josuke, and Rohan, the latter of which who had just returned from one of Rohan's multiple drawing expeditions. Sheila stood with her arms crossed in the doorway, watching them all guardedly.

"I almost feel sorry for leaving Shizuka on the island, but that girl needs to stop using her other abilities to escape from her training," Lisa Lisa said. "You can tell she was raised by Joseph. She's just as much of a troublemaker."

"Doesn't it bring one more joy to your days at this point in your life?" Jolyne asked, feeling some pity for the little girl for missing out on what had practically become a family dinner.

"Are you really one to talk? If there's anyone who is more trouble than Shizuka, it's you. If you had been a boy, we would have had to call you Joseph II. You're just as talented and skilled at causing trouble as you are with Hamon." For a moment, Lisa Lisa's spirits dropped. "I wish you could have gotten to known him better."

"Yare yare daze." Jotaro noticed the change in the atmosphere. "Did I ever tell you about that time he traded a luxury car for some camels he didn't know how to ride?"

Josuke, interested in anything with his late father, put down his fork. "This is the first time I'm hearing about this. Tell us."

Anecdotes about Joseph began to flow in the room. Even Marena recounted a time she met the old man, who told her about how "sweet" his grandson was, making her think she was describing someone else entirely. This elicited some chuckles around the table while Jotaro lowered his hat.

Thinking of Great-grandpa Joseph made Jolyne remember the conversation she had with Suzie Q. days ago. The old lady had urged Jolyne to bring her blond boyfriend to Japan for a wedding. Considering that Suzie hadn't met Giorno nor knew about the details of their love life, Jolyne wondered why she was so insistent about them getting married and that early in their relationship too, where there was so much room for mistakes. Once Suzie met him, would she really approve and welcome him to the family?

While everyone continued to be engaged in the stories about Joseph, Jolyne found her gaze drifting to Giorno, who sat at the head of the table a couple of seats down from her. He had already been formal about the conversations at the start, but she noticed that he gradually became more and more removed. When he caught her gaze fixed on him, rather than returning her smile, he looked away.

"There is no way I can forget the night of Mr. Joseph Joestar's passing or ever make up for everything my family did to yours," Giorno finally said. "I owe you all a debt I can never repay."

Jolyne frowned and was about to reply when, Jotaro, of all people, beat her to it.

"Bullsh*t," her dad said. "I'm never going to apologize to you for killing your father, so don't even think about apologizing to us for the things he or your brother did."

"What my great-grandson means so inelegantly, Giorno," Lisa Lisa said, "is that children shouldn't carry the sins of the fathers. You, dear boy, are already doing more than enough."

The old woman took off her near-permanent sunglasses. Her skin was aged, but she still had beautiful eyes.

"Don't think of yourself as anything other than a victim of everything that happened. When I found out that DIO had left children behind, I felt like an idiot. We didn't know of any vampire that had children, but we should have considered the possibility with DIO since he was never an ordinary vampire. I wish I had known. I would have looked for you even before the Speedwagon Foundation and brought you up with Hamon. Maybe I could have saved you or at least given you a pleasant childhood. But we can't live in the possibles and the what ifs. You've done well in spite of everything."

"I'm the don of a mafia family," Giorno said, using a napkin to wipe his hands.

"Yes, a mafia family that has gone from terrorizing people to keeping criminals scared and helping little old ladies cross the street," she replied in an authoritative tone. "I know you're not perfect nor is your organization full of angels, but I've lived more years in Italy than you have to remember what Passione was like before you became in charge. And let's face it, no one can really judge you too harshly when the Speedwagon Foundation has been skirting the law since it was founded. It certainly did when I was in charge."

The last part was news to Jolyne. She hadn't known her own Hamon teacher had been the head of the Speedwagon Foundation at one point. She could only imagine what the now demilitarized research group had been like back in the day under such a strict person's rules.

"Weren't you supposed to be treating his self-esteem issues?" Rohan chided Josuke.

"Therapy is slower than Heaven's Door!" Josuke defended himself.

"You see, there are worse things that are part of my family," Lisa Lisa said to Giorno, who cracked a genuine smile for the first time since the dinner started. Seeing this, Jolyne couldn't help but feel a sense of relief for some reason.

"Come on, lady, I know that deep down you appreciate me," Rohan said with a smile of his own. "All of this is only adding to the mystery surrounding your island before you finally let me visit."

Marena, sitting next to him, took a sip of her drink calmly. "The truth is, if I had an island full of secrets, I wouldn't let you in either."

"This woman here is smart," Lisa Lisa said, getting up to retire for the night. "Someone like you is more than welcome in Air Suplena."

Lisa Lisa was very serious. Marena was extended an explicit invitation from her to visit the island. As her mom squealed and got up to squeeze the old lady's hand in gratitude, Jolyne's focus darted over to her dad, whose gaze was fixed on his ex-wife. Throughout the dinner, Jolyne had noticed him often staring at Marena, who seemed to return his gaze in a sort of silent game. Although, it could just be passing glances since they sat diagonally across from each other; Jolyne didn't want to get her hopes up in vain.

The dinner neared its end as everyone had their fill and the conversations began to die. Jolyne decided it was time to put her plan into action. Lifting her leg beneath the table, she stretched it out, careful to avoid her dad who was sandwiched between her and her boyfriend, before tapping her sandaled-foot against Giorno's leg to get his attention. Perhaps it was the abundance of wine on the table or that he was going all out that night, but he didn't react at all. He only continued to stir the wine in his glass, lost in his own thoughts.

'Hey, look over here!' Jolyne thought impatiently.

She tapped him again, then even resorted to pinching his calf between her two big toes, when she suddenly felt another person's bare toes brush against the middle of her leg. Jolyne flinched away from it, immediately putting her leg back down. When she looked up, she met her mom's wide eyes across the table. Thinking she was busted, Jolyne was ready with her flurry of excuses when she noticed the guilty red splotches on Marena's cheeks that she tried to cover with her blond hair.

Oh. Oh.

Maybe she hadn't imagined the faint, lingering looks between her parents after all. Although feeling somewhat disgusted over the thought of her mom attempting to play footsie with her stone-faced dad right next to her, Jolyne also felt her heart flutter with renewed hope.

Jolyne nodded to her mom, then pretended like she hadn't seen anything. Whether or not Marena decided to try again, that was up to her. Meanwhile, Jolyne would try another trick she had up her sleeve with her own darling.

Beneath the table again, Jolyne unraveled her fingers into blue strings. With practiced ease, she maneuvered her strings to avoid all the human legs and chair legs in the way and reached her intended target at the head of the table.

Giorno's neck suddenly stiffened while in the middle of taking a sip of his wine.

Ha! It worked! Jolyne suppressed a grin, allowing her strings to get bolder with where they slithered on his body, though taking care to keep them out of sight. It was impressive how he managed to keep a straight face in a situation that would have sent her spine crawling. When one string stroked close to his ear lobe, both his ears turned red. Sheila stepped forward in Jolyne's vision, alert to her Don's strange behavior.

"Hey, Punzie," Jolyne whispered under her breath, her lips barely moving. "I'm calling it a night in a moment. I want to watch the sunrise with you tomorrow, so please don't go to bed late."

She knew Giorno had heard her through the string because his eyes flickered to her for a brief moment. He muttered something under his breath, which her strings caught since they were tangled with his body: "This woman will be the end of me."

Giorno put his glass down, uncharacteristically spilling some of its contents on the table along the way. As Sheila approached him in concern, he waved his hand to dismiss her. Although reluctant, the woman went back to stand by the door, unsure of what had happened. Jolyne, relishing in the success, couldn't help but teasingly caress Giorno with her strings, taking pleasure in hearing his breath hitch.

"You okay, Giovanna?" Jotaro said as he stood up to retire for the night, scrutinizing him.

Jolyne inwardly cursed and swiftly retracted her strings, deciding she'd played enough. Knowing her old man, things would go South if he stopped time out of suspicion to inspect the don. She would rather die than have to explain herself in front of everyone there.

Ok, patience. The real thing was just ahead. It was time to leave and move forward with the next step of the plan.

Her room and Giorno's were not far from one another. It might seem too difficult for anyone to scale from outside on the ground floor, but it was a piece of cake to someone who had survived climbing the f*cking Infernal Pillar with their bare hands. Jolyne felt like freaking Spiderman as she snuck into her boyfriend's room. Of course, she also had to give Bruno credit for his part of the bargain that they had agreed on earlier. His zippers had been a huge help with speeding up the process of getting to the window. She was right to count on him.

Sure enough, the room was like everything she had learned to associate with Giorno, full of gilded frames, baroque, with a huge bed with brocaded sheets. The smell of fresh flowers also flooded the whole room. She had the urge to smell the sheets but stopped out of embarrassment at the last minute.

Now she just had to muster the courage to execute the last step. Vinnie had practically dared her to do it with her gift, so Jolyne wasn't going to chicken out now. She knew Giorno liked pink. And she had noticed tonight that he loved pink on her.

Jolyne removed the garment that was covering the uncomfortable lingerie underneath. She would never have bought something with so many hearts and so many little pearls, tulle, and even more hearts on the garter belt. But it fit... It accentuated all her curves, even some she hadn't known she had. She had to hand it to herself, it looked great on her. Even if what she was looking for was for Giorno to take it off.

Although it might be excessive, she even put on a pair of super sexy long gloves that she saw had matched before finally lying down on the bed. She hoped Giorno would find this position sexy. As per her friends' advice, she had practiced the pose in her room before the mirror several times when Shizu was out.

And so, the waiting began. Jolyne fiddled with a pink strip of lace then put it down when she saw a wrinkle form. Checking the clock, she was suddenly struck with a thought. What if the words she'd whispered to Giorno weren't provocative enough and he didn't come soon? If she had to wait for him to go to bed voluntarily, she might fall asleep before he came back.

No, no, that wouldn't do at all. Jolyne got out of bed to grab her cell phone and sent Bruno a quick text message.

As usual, the man was efficient. She soon heard Giorno heading down the hallway, mumbling something about reports left in the room. Feeling her heart hammer in her chest, Jolyne quickly got back into position, checking in a large full-length mirror to make sure not a hair was out of place.

The footsteps outside came to a halt right in front of the door. He must have noticed the sliver of light coming from underneath the crack of the door in a room that should have been dark. sh*t, what if he attacked her? Before she could get herself in a fret, she heard him knock on the door while calling her name.

"Jolyne? Are you all right?"

Jolyne felt like headbutting herself; she had forgotten about the vampire sniff.

"I'm coming in," he said, before the door swung open.

After taking a step into the room, Giorno froze, drinking in the sight of her splayed on his bed. She thought he might stay like that for a while, but then without taking his gaze off her, he quickly shut the door behind him. Slowly approaching her, his eyes raked over her again and again, as if looking at the most tempting thing he had ever seen. His fingers twitched by his side, seeming ready to reach out and rip the clothing off.

"I hope you don't mind that I asked Bruno to trick you into coming," she told him as she fiddled with the straps of the garter belt. "I was getting bored waiting for you."

Chapter 49: Me Quedo Contigo

Chapter Text

Ever since he was a child, Giorno Giovanna, or Haruno Shiobana, had been fascinated by the color pink. His mother used to paint her lips pink and he thought that when he grew up, he could do the same, but she did not take long to rebuke him by telling him that boys did not paint their lips or wear pink. It was funny that Lucia Giovanna—he had a hard time remembering his mother's original name, perhaps it had been 'okasan' in Japanese for him—who had never cared for her son had been so insistent on it. Men don't put on lipstick or wear pink.

Lucia was afraid that her son was a fa*g, as he so openly expressed. That's why when he could get rid of her, the first thing he did was buy a pink suit. He had never been much of a makeup wearer, but he had done it all the same and remained the same as a man, even when he had male lovers. Because it turned out that being a man had nothing to do with the ideas his mother had in her head.

In front of him was his beloved barely covered in a lingerie of his favorite color, like the most valuable gift in the world, beautifully wrapped. Seeing her stare back at him with a seductive smile, albeit a little nervous, he swallowed and paused in his step. Her scent, camouflaged among the flowers, was unique, with an almost spicy sweetness that lingered in his nostrils. The most exquisite perfumers did not have the nose of a vampire, so only he was able to capture all the nuances. He could live in it. The beast that resided in him was howling; he had to dig his fingernails into his palms as he clenched his fists to restrain himself.

He scanned his eyes over her to make sure what he was seeing was the reality. It just seemed too good to be true. While that was definitely Jolyne—his senses were already screaming for her, so the feeling was unmistakable—it never hurt to be cautious.

"Jolyne, you haven't been attacked by a Stand, have you?"

"Hell no," she said, looking almost offended. "Well, I guess I can't blame you for hesitating. Weirder things have happened to us… Why don't you come over here and check on the situation yourself?"

At the flirtation, he averted his gaze, a blush dusting his cheeks. "You know what I desire. But why are you doing this all of a sudden?"

"Easy. I want you as much as you want me."

"Are you sure about this?" Giorno said, returning his gaze. "You heard what I said in the meeting. We're so close to finding the cure. If you could just wait a little longer…"

Jolyne was reaching out her fingers, and he thought she was beckoning him to take her hand, but then her skin unraveled into strings. Once again that night, he found Stone Free's strings snaking over his body, gentle but firm as they imprisoned him by the waist and guided him toward her.

"We're always treading so carefully," Jolyne said, sitting up straight now to meet his gaze seriously, "holding back so that our desire doesn't get out of control. But what if we just let it happen?"

The strings took him as far as the foot of the bed. Jolyne released him from his restraints and raveled her skin back to normal. Then she crawled closer to the edge on her hands and knees and took his face in her hands.

"Punzie, I know you're only afraid of hurting me, but do you trust me when I say I can keep you in line in case your instincts go crazy? Then, will you have me?"

Of course, he trusted her. All his instincts were screaming at him to have her. His cold logic that had saved his life so many times seemed to tell him that this was also the best way to ensure Jolyne's safety. But if there was anything devastating, more than all that lingerie, it was realizing the vulnerability in Jolyne's emerald green eyes. She was offering herself to him, of all people in the world, and she was still prepared for the possibility of rejection. And while he didn't feel worthy of her, he felt even less worthy of rejecting her.

Slowly, he brought his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks like she was cupping his, and connected their foreheads. Jolyne let out an audible sigh, her warm breath hitting his face.

"Sorry, is it weird that I'm waiting for something horrible to happen right now?" she asked. "Life's just been tough lately, so I've decided I'm going to snatch all the happiness I can. Does that sound like a good idea?"

Giorno pressed his mouth to Jolyne's and smiled against her lips. "What can I say, you're a very smart woman."

Jolyne kissed him while continuing to lure him onto the bed, although Giorno wasn't exactly resisting, just trying not to trip over the edge of the bed. She must have noticed because she took advantage of the precarious balance to lift him onto the mattress.

While she had great control, it was very difficult for him to take a more active role and control himself, not that she minded. Having Giorno under her mercy had its charm, and he seemed to enjoy it.

Giorno's clothes always made him look deceptively exposed, but when it came down to it, they were complicated to put on and take off, lots of tiny buttons and custom-made delicates. He was having a hard time holding himself back from ripping those buttons off and tearing the clothes apart.

A burst of pink rose petals covered Jolyne for a moment, and when she looked down, she realized that Giorno's torso was completely naked. He smirked, clad only in a pair of pants.

"I thought I could make the mood more romantic with some roses."

"The shirt was a work of art by a good tailor, but..." Jolyne ran her fingers down Giorno's sides. "Sometimes you have to destroy something to get to the good stuff." She felt Giorno's hands on the edges of her bodice. "Nope. Don't even think about it. This was a gift from our friend Vinnie. Besides, it's surprisingly easy to remove."

Giorno's hands did not leave the edges of the garment, not daring to go directly on the skin but staying very close, following the lace lines while Jolyne languidly nibbled on his neck.

"What, are you afraid to touch me, Punzie?" she teased.

Giorno, having never shirked a challenge in his life, was quick to grab Jolyne's buttocks with both hands. He had dreamed of touching her like that, but now it was she herself who was egging him on.

"I want to worship you, mio cuore, every last corner of your body," he hissed, trying and failing to stop the emergence of his fangs. "But I don't know how far I can keep my reason with you like this."

"Let's make a deal." A golden spark imbued with Hamon formed on Jolyne's lips as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss. Giorno felt a mini shock, but then his fangs began to retract. "We'll make it good this time, but without overthinking. In return, after the dangerous first time... You can have me in any way you want."

Giorno ran his tongue over his teeth, verifying that they were back normal and would not harm her. "That's a dangerous deal. I may want to worship you forever."

"What if that was my intention?"

She wanted to be his, and she was going to be. She was eagerly giving herself to him, the only way he would have taken her. He had felt wanted on many occasions, which was always a powerful feeling, but to feel so desired by the one he loved made him feel even more powerful than when he attained the Requiem.

As Giorno kissed her fervently, his fingers tried to loosen the strings of the bustier. Jolyne shook her head, giggling. Apparently, the bustier was supposed to be opened with hook-and-eye fasteners in the front. She sat upright and straddled his hips, leaving him no doubt that she knew the exact state she had put his lower body in. He was thinking about whether to give his pants and underwear the same treatment as his shirt when she was already dropping the bustier.

"Ocean man, take me by the hand."

The upbeat tune of Ocean Man coming from Jolyne's phone on the nightstand made her freeze. Whispering a 'how could he have known?', she jumped away from Giorno, who stared after her in surprise and frustration while catching his breath.

Jolyne tossed him an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's Dad. If I don't take this call, he's going to come running back from Air Suplena. I'll try not to take too long." She leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the lips then turned around and picked up her phone.

Giorno, half-naked, was frozen on the mattress, wondering whether Dr. Kujo had sensed what he was up to with his daughter and if this was going to be the last moment of his life. Well, at least it had been a happy few minutes. He inched forward a bit as Jolyne spoke, not that he understood much of what she was saying. Maybe he should take Japanese lessons, remember the language of his childhood and earn points with Dr. Kujo. He needed all the points he could earn with his future father-in-law.

When Jolyne's shoulders stiffened and her tone turned sharp, he knew there was something wrong. It wasn't a routine call to make sure she was okay. He looked at her expectantly after she hung up, but she didn't turn around, showing him her back. Concerned, he got off the bed and moved to stand in front of her, asking what was wrong.

"It's Great-Grandma Suzie," she mumbled, almost in disbelief. "She's dead."

Giorno's eyebrows shot up in surprise. While his exterior tried not to show anything, his mind was racing, thinking of the different possibilities and scenarios involving his brothers. He felt his heart sinking in his chest.

"I'm sorry." He took her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "We'll find them. I won't let them do anything to anyone else and..."

Jolyne rapidly shook her head. "This has nothing to do with them. She died in her sleep. She had...many, many years."

Giorno let out a breath, making an "oh" sound. He wasn't sure what else he could say to soothe her, so no further words were exchanged as they continued to hug for a while.

"I have to get dressed," Jolyne said a moment later, withdrawing from his embrace. Her eyes were completely dry, perhaps still processing the shocking news. "Sorry, I have to go be with Shizu."

"Of course, let's get dressed. I'll take you there myself." He went straight to his closet. "Take my robe for now."

Jolyne gladly accepted his custom Versace robes. Her body felt cold now that the heat of the moment was snuffed out.

Giorno disappeared while Jolyne was wrapping herself in his robes, then he returned a while later from her bedroom with some of her own clothes. Seeing her shivering in his robes, still in a state of shock, he decided to help her get dressed. There was nothing sexual in his touches, only his desire to take care of her since he could not tear the grief away from her. He stepped back when she seemed to be able to change on her own and averted his gaze, despite the situation they had been in just earlier.

It didn't take them more than ten minutes to join Rohan and Josuke, whose hair was ungelled, by the entrance. Josuke and Jolyne hugged tightly, and they even pulled Rohan into the embrace. Although the mangaka slipped away quickly, his red, puffy eyes were a dead give away that he had cried a while before.

On Giorno's boat, it was mostly quiet except for the sound of the motor and the sea. Observing the way Rohan expertly combed Josuke's hair, Giorno decided to braid Jolyne's hair as she stared out at the sea. He did not know how else to comfort her.

Josuke broke the silence. "It's weird, you know. She should have hated me, being her husband’s bastard son and all. But when I met her, she gave me two kisses on the cheeks and told me how much I looked like Joseph when he was young. She was the sweetest person ever. Damn, now Shizu..."

"She won't be alone," Rohan reminded him. "She's got us and your sister. If she even wants to live with us, she can, okay?"

While they discussed it further, Jolyne said nothing. She leaned into Giorno's warmth, her thoughts and heartbeat drowning out the background noise. Sadly, she had gotten used to people leaving her and seeing death on her doorstep, but losing someone peacefully came as a shock. To think that only a while ago she had been planning on visiting her great-grandma in Japan after so many years of separation. Suzie had wanted Jolyne to introduce her blond boyfriend too. But the opportunity was lost forever.

When they arrived on the island, they found a few apprentices waiting to escort them. Although no one said anything, it was clear that it was so Rohan wouldn't go anywhere he wasn't allowed to. For once, he didn't kick up a fuss.

Upon entering Lisa Lisa's room, they found her with Shizuka and Marena, who was comforting them both. The old woman was weeping with the silent dignity of someone who had already lost too many people. Jolyne headed straight for them. Seeing Shizuka's tear-soaked face, the tears that had refused to come out before started to flow freely as Jolyne hugged her.

Giorno felt a little awkward standing by the door, unsure of what to do. His sentiments seemed to be shared by Dr. Kujo, who had been in the corner of the room as silent as a statue. The older man pulled down the brim of his hat, obscuring his eyes, before walking over to him and putting Giorno's shoulder.

"My grandmother wanted to be buried in Italy, so my mother and I are going to Japan to retrieve her body. Josuke and Kishibe will be accompanying us to help with all the arrangements. Meanwhile, someone from the Foundation will take over, someone I trust completely, but if something should happen… I hope you can take care of everything."

"You don't even have to ask me," Giorno said. "I can call for more men if that's what you see fit. Passione and I won't stop protecting. This is our territory."

Jotaro glanced at his bereaved family members before walking out of the room, motioning for Giorno to follow him. Instead of going to one of the other rooms, they went to the courtyard and leaned against the wall. The night was getting cold, but they were both too stubborn and hardheaded to show it.

"I know I wasn't nice to you at first," Jotaro said, staring straight ahead at the dark sky, "but I hope you understand that my distrust came because of how important Jolyne is to me. My daughter matters more to me than my life, yet you've taken care of her better than I have."

"With all due respect, Dr. Kujo, when Jolyne became my unwilling guest, she came to be governed under the rules of hospitality. But the truth is..." Giorno's normally expressionless face drew a smile. "Jolyne has helped us more than we've helped her. I wish I'd been able to protect her better, but I've learned that there is no better way to do that than to support her while she defends herself."

"You sound like you admire her," Jotaro said, turning to regard Giorno cryptically.

"Because I do. Her evolution is incredible; she's much stronger on the inside than everyone thinks. I'll be the first to admit I was proven wrong about her, and I hope I never underestimate her again... Rest assured, I'll personally see to it that she remains safe and not only because of the rules of hospitality. The world would be a bleak place without her."

When Giorno turned his face, he was met with Dr. Kujo's scrutinizing gaze. Giorno returned his look head-on without so much as blinking.

"If I didn't know any better," Jotaro said, "I would have thought you were in love with her. Sometimes I forget that you Italians tend to speak in hyperbole."

"And you also forget that, technically, I'm Japanese and British," Giorno replied with a calm smile. "I'm going back in. I'll see if I can be useful."

Jotaro watched him leave and shoved his hands in his pockets. f*cking kid—though he was an adult now—and his mind games. Giovanna just couldn't help but have part of DIO, he supposed. Unless...

A sudden thought occurred to Jotaro. His eyes widened to the size of saucers.

Impossible. Jolyne was still a little girl. Well, to him anyway, as she would always be. But to the rest of the world, she was already an adult. Giovanna also happened to be young. From the way with which he'd spoken of her... f*ck. It couldn't be. Had DIO's son fallen in love with his daughter?

Chapter 50: I Will Always Love You

Chapter Text

Jolyne smelled a walking corpse in the fresh afternoon air. No, her great-grandma hadn't risen from the grave. Suzie Q.'s body was in a casket on a ship heading for Italy. And it wasn't F.F. or the zombies either, who were still in Rome. This walking corpse was on Air Suplena, talking and laughing, unaware that Jolyne was contemplating making him a dead man.

Of all the people her dad could have sent over as an escort in his absence, why did it have to be Koichi Hirose?

The little man arrived only a day after Jotaro left, putting a small damper on Jolyne’s excitement over Giorno's increasingly frequent visits to the island under the guise of security measures. One look at Koichi's self-righteous, snitching face that haunted her in her childhood, and Jolyne knew that any secret rendezvous with her boyfriend would be risky. Worse, when she and Giorno weren't seeing each other in the brief moments between her exercises, Giorno was mostly chatting amicably with the enemy, blind to her looks of betrayal. Even Shizuka, who had been awfully quiet the past few days, mustered a smile whenever Koichi was around. For some reason, almost everyone seemed to like the guy. Jolyne didn't get it.

What was so great about him? How was he going to be of any use in case something happened anyway? By throwing him to the enemies as a distraction until everyone else escaped to safety? Her dad's trust in that man was exaggerated.

There was one person who seemed to prefer Jolyne over Koichi at least. Although Lisa Lisa continued to be strict on Jolyne, hardly leaving her time to rest, Jolyne didn't miss the pride in the old woman's eyes at her growth. That morning, Lisa Lisa even spoke to her about finishing her training in Tibet when the situation calmed down.

Jolyne had been beside herself with excitement when hearing that. Tibet was the dream of every disciple on the island. She heard that the training there was rigorous beyond anyone's imagination, making the Hell Pillar Climb seem like a simple park walk. The majority of disciples who went were in their mid-20s and some even 30s.

"Like you," Lisa Lisa told her, "Joseph learned everything there was to know from me in a matter of months. After defeating those pillar men and coming back as a married man with Suzie, I knew he was ready. He could have gone to Tibet, but that bum of a son of mine said he had trained enough for two lifetimes."

Tibet was the perfect place to train, but not to start a life together, let alone a quiet one. If he had decided to go there, surely Suzie Q. would have followed him just as if he were in Air Suplena, creating a commotion among the monks. Jolyne would have laughed, but she found it too strange to hear about Suzie Q. in the past tense. Whereas before they were divided by the past and the present, the old couple were united in death.

Feeling motivated, Jolyne worked extra hard that afternoon, putting her full focus on the training routine, even skipping some of the permitted breaks.

After a particularly intense exercise, Jolyne finally dragged her sore body off the training grounds and headed to the restroom. Multiple stalls lined the wall, but the place was completely empty; this restroom was further from the others, so the disciples didn't use it often. Jolyne valued the privacy and how it allowed her some time to wind done and be alone, so it was her go-to.

She had just finished patting her sweat-drenched face and neck with a paper towel when she found a lone figure hunched over one of the sinks a few feet away from her.

Lifting his head, Giorno met her gaze through the mirror. "I didn't know you enjoyed training that much. I was beginning to think you were never going to leave."

"Oh? Is that right?" Jolyne huffed and resumed patting her face as if it wasn't already dry. "I thought you were too busy chitchatting with Koichi to notice me."

"That almost sounds like jealousy." Giorno straightened his back. "Wait, are you..."

Jolyne tossed aside the damp paper towel. "I'm not jealous of that guy! ...Okay, maybe a little. But it's more than that. Be careful around him. One small slip up and he might tattle about us to my dad."

And Jotaro might choose to believe in whatever Koichi said too, even if he were to suddenly claim that Giorno was a woman all along. Back when she visited Morioh as a kid, her dad hadn't even looked doubtful when Koichi snitched on her, instead giving her a harsh punishment without hesitation for her remaining stay.

When Giorno brought his hand to the lower half of his face, Jolyne had a sneaking suspicion that he was hiding a smile. "Signore Hirose and I actually go back a long way. He even kept a grave secret of mine although we were just strangers… But that's a story for another time. I would rather not spend my precious minutes with you talking about him. Your instructor has agreed to look the other away, but only for 20 minutes."

He stepped forward and closed the gap between them, pulling her into a hug. Jolyne wasn't able to stay "upset" with him any longer. Amidst sharing a few kisses, she quickly forgot all about the manlet. She was glad to finally be with her boyfriend like this, feeling the warmth of his strong arms around her and taking in his lavender scent. Suddenly remembering her own dirty, sweat-stained state, Jolyne was filled with embarrassment. She had chosen the wrong day to go all out in her training.

"Ugh, I've stained your custom suit. Couldn't you wait another time when I wasn't covered in sweat? I probably smell like a wet dog."

"A rat seems more like it."

When she whined and tried to pull away, Giorno squeezed her a little tighter.

"Even so, I don't care," he said. "I'll always want to hold you. I can't even imagine not wanting to."

Jolyne felt her cheeks, already warm from the training, heat up. The mushy words and the intensity in his eyes was almost too much to bear. She gripped his collar and buried her face in his collarbone to escape his gaze.

Perhaps sensing her embarrassment, Giorno removed her fingers from his shirt and hoisted her up, carefully placing her on the sink edge. He grabbed a few paper towels from the side and started to gently wipe the sweat on her sore muscles. Under his attentive care, Jolyne relaxed, enjoying the gentle motions. When Giorno was done wiping her clean, he took her right arm in his grip and pressed firmly on certain points, releasing the knots of tension in her muscles. Jolyne let out a gasp, which turned into a sigh. He must have been paying attention to her during her training exercises after all, knowing just where she was sore without even needing to ask.

Glancing up at her expression, Giorno slowly reached out one of his hands toward her face. Just when Jolyne thought he was going to cup her face in his hand, he took her cheek between his thumb and forefinger and pinched it. Hard.

"Ow—hey!" Jolyne smacked his hand away with a glare, and Giorno burst out laughing.

"What the hell?" She rubbed the stinging skin, not quite pouting.

"I'm sorry, your red cheeks…" he managed to say between gasps. "Just too cute… I couldn't help myself."

Curious, Jolyne couldn't help but turn around to look in the mirror behind her. Her face was a splotchy red due to the exercise, nothing special. Yet somehow, the way Giorno had looked at her made it seem as if he saw something extremely fascinating.

Jolyne twisted her head back, just in time to catch his brazen smile as he reached for her other cheek. She grabbed his hand and tried to shove it away but Giorno resisted; as if in a push of war, each tried to get an edge over the other. Then, Jolyne seemed to relent, but when Giorno's hand inched toward her again, she used her hand to press his flat against the side of her face, keeping it there. His strong palm felt cool against her flush skin.

"Giorno…"

"Hm?"

Jolyne closed her eyes for a moment then opened them again, finding him still standing there. It seemed that he hadn't looked away for even a moment.

"You love me." Jolyne didn't say it as a question; she was stating it. She could feel it just like the light filtering through the mirrors. "And you do it in such a stupidly huge way that I don't understand how someone like you could fall for me."

Giorno stared at her while cradling her face. With his little finger, he brushed her jugular vein and tensed for a moment when he felt her pulse. Jolyne thought of all the times she had laughed thinking about the exaggeration in Twilight, yet there he was, her own vampire lusting for her blood but, above all else, loving her.

"Well signorina, if only you saw yourself as I see you..." he said. "Despite the terrible things that have happened to us, I'm grateful because I was able to get to know you. And even with all that lies ahead, I'm glad to have you like this, rat stench and all, with me, and being able to love you. Like this, everything just fits."

Jolyne felt her heart warm from the very bottom.

"f*ck, if it wasn't for calling me a stinker, these could serve as some wedding vows," she told him, blushing. "I could marry you right here and now."

Giorno snorted out a laugh. "Sure, and your parents could have a front row seat on the toilets to witness the ceremony."

Jolyne burst into laughter at the image. But as the mirth died down, she paused and said, "Hey, let's do it."

"Do what?" Giorno said, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, red like the rest of her face.

"Get married."

Giorno froze and blinked twice at her, as if trying to assimilate what he had heard. She didn't break his gaze, no laughing or giggling this time, waiting for his response.

"Cazzo," Giorno finally said, the curse sounding strange to Jolyne's ears since it was coming from him. "Truthfully, I have thought about it myself before. That's why when you're ready, nothing would make me happier than to marry you."

"And what if I'm ready now?" Jolyne said. "I know that we only started dating really recently, but I… This is what I want. I've felt a certain way for a long time now, and the way you just described it, how "everything just fits", that's what it feels like."

With him, she had always felt sure. It was as if her soul was right at home. She had literally seen his dangerous, powerful, strange, golden soul on several occasions. A Stand could tell a lot about its user, but this was something deeper. Her gut told her she would never feel this way about anyone ever again.

"I don't want to wait anymore," she continued. "I'm f*cking tired of making careful plans, only for them to blow up in my face afterward. So rather than thinking too hard about it for once, before anyone tries to stop us, let's elope tomorrow and get married."

She could feel Giorno's heart beat rapidly against her chest. She waited for him to say something, give any indication that he was uncertain, but he didn't. That was all the sign she needed.

She grabbed both his hands, looking at him with resolve. "Giorno Giovanna, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Giorno replied, squeezing her hands back to try to keep control despite the euphoria that was sweeping through him. "This is probably a terrible idea, but… I really want this too."

Jolyne smiled, feeling her heart burst with happiness. The only thing that could undo her smile was Giorno's kiss, for it was difficult to keep smiling as the kiss became more and more passionate.

As she gulped in some air after one of the kisses, Giorno asked, "Are you sure you don't want to wait for your parents to be present?"

Jolyne hesitated before shaking her head. Marena may have gotten along much better with Giorno than Jotaro, but she probably wouldn't give her approval as quickly either.

"We can have another wedding ceremony with everyone at another time," Giorno said, caressing her face. "But I'm afraid it will have to be for more than just family and friends. I'll try, as I have always, to keep my private life and yours from being interrupted by my position, but sometimes, it's unavoidable. Sadly, my marriage is one of those cases."

"Actually, that isn't a bad thing, come to think of it." Jolyne's eyes lit up with a wicked glint. "Now all those bitches who gave me dirty looks at that last party will know that you're mine."

"Mia signora." Giorno kissed her hand. "I don't think anyone could have dreamed of a more worthy lady boss. Are you going to start your reign?"

Laughing, they started kissing again, in their own particular cloud, at least until they heard Jolyne's watcher for that day call her, saying that she had spent five extra minutes and that they were going to be noticed. With one last kiss, she and Giorno parted ways.

Jolyne went to bed early that night. Or so she had everyone believe. She just had to wake up extra early and sneak out. Giorno had informed her that, with his contacts, they could get the papers arranged in an hour.

Shizuka's bed was empty. For the past few days, the little girl went where she wanted whenever she wanted. If she did choose to partake in the exercises, the instructors were ordered beforehand by Lisa Lisa to choose the ones she preferred. But for the most part, the girl was nowhere to be seen, perhaps choosing to sit in a peaceful place with her invisibility on. Jolyne could understand that; the fellow disciples and Iulius, while being meaningful, didn't offer much in the way of quiet. Shizu usually came back in time for bed at least.

When the moon rose in the sky and the girl still didn't appear, Jolyne began to get nervous. She herself may be Donatello's priority, but she couldn't rule out him ever going after Shizuka to use her as bait. Hence, Jolyne decided to go out in search of her.

She was already at the door of the room when it burst open, barely missing her face by sheer luck. Shizuka passed her with a gust of air. It would have looked like she was entering alone if it wasn't for the fact that the air complained.

"Great, you're here." Shizuka closed the door and opened her hand, making Iulius visible. "I have a plan for tomorrow."

"Oh, I, uh, can't join you for whatever you're planning because I have my own thing to do tomorrow..." Jolyne started to think of an excuse. "I'm..."

"You're going to elope with Giorno and marry him," Shizuka finished.

Jolyne's mouth fell open, her eyes going round.

"When you're together, you don't notice anything, with all that kissing and those romantic words..." Shizuka said in a disgusted voice. "But whatever, I'm going too. And look, I already have our escape figured out. Allow me to introduce you to my secret weapon."

Shizuka pointed at the blond, making gestures of introduction as he raised a hand reluctantly. It was apparent that this hadn't been his idea.

"We only need a few hours for them not to notice, right? Well, I've publicly made it known that Iulius has to 'bring me breakfast' in my room. Plus, he'll meditate with us tomorrow."

"I have to lie and say that you left a couple of hours later than you really did. Please don't contradict the story. I don't want to disappoint Master Lisa Lisa." The young man looked at them with his beautiful green eyes full of sorrow. "I hate lying to the teacher. Do I really have to?"

"Don't give me the crap about her being like your grandma when she is literally mine. Just admit that you're afraid she'll punish you. Also, remember that you owe me. Don't you always talk about what a Zeppeli's word is worth?"

"More than that of a Joestar!" he replied indignantly.

Jolyne sighed heavily. The last thing she needed was to get caught because of these two fighting.

"Listen Iulius," Jolyne said, trying to use her most formal tone. "I really appreciate you for doing this. But if it hurts you to lie, I can't force you to help. I'll only ask that you don't say anything until a couple of hours have passed. We'll get away somehow on our own..."

"I'll help, I've already given my word." Iulius looked away, trying not to let his blush show. "But I'll do it for you, not for that one."

Jolyne was quick to cover Shizuka's mouth and quickly dismiss Iulius. Her day had just gotten even more complicated.

Even though Iulius said he didn't want to get involved, he helped them get to the meeting point without anyone seeing them. Because of course, as much as invisibility was a huge help, in a place where Hamon flowed, it was very easy to skip an alarm without noticing it. Thankfully, Iulius knew the island inside out.

The three of them arrived at the designated place, Hell Climb Pillar, where Giorno told her to wait, before the hour. There, they waited, speaking very softly to not risk being discovered.

"I'm going to arrive at my wedding in this wind," Jolyne complained.

"No, you're going to be..." Shizuka started.

"Signorina, you're one of the loveliest women I've ever laid eyes on. I don't think you have anything to worry about." Iulius gave Jolyne a kiss on her hand. "I've never felt so jealous of a man as I have of Signore Giovanna. If I were older..."

"You would be a pitiful adult next to Giorno," Shizuka interjected.

Jolyne was prepared to have to pacify them again, but just then, they saw something coming from the horizon. The group tensed up even though they were only waiting for someone in a rowboat, as the person had stopped the engine.

"How much further to go? Giorno said he was close. What a liar," a low-pitched voice complained.

"It's not far, Number Three. You can already see Jolyne there," another low-pitched voice said.

"Sure, since you're not rowing," replied another voice.

Jolyne waved at the boat, recognizing Mista in it. He waved back exhaustedly before looking quizzically at the two teenagers. Once she made it clear that Iulius was helping them and that Shizuka would assist with the rowing, his expression eased.

"So, since you're marrying GioGio all of a sudden, you couldn't be pregnant, could you?" Mista asked. Seeing her make a horrified face, he continued. "I wouldn't be surprised though. Giorno has always been very… intense. And the truth is that as much as I didn't like you before, even back then, I knew that he loved you. I never saw him love anyone, so it was only a matter of time."

"You don't mind him marrying me?" Jolyne asked.

"Nah, you make him happy, and that's fine with me. I'm not like Fugo or Giorno's fans. My feelings are like water under the bridge." He smiled at her in a way she had never seen him do before. "Besides, although I appreciate Sheila, you beat her up to assert your dominance and I respect that."

Mista looked over at Shizuka. "So, you've brought a bridesmaid? That's good. Although, you're going to have a second wedding anyway. Donatella Versace is going to be mad at him for not counting on her for a casual dress, so the second one is probably going to have several wardrobe changes."

"Are you sure you're not trying to get her to run away?" Shizuka asked.

Once they were a safe distance away, they started the engine. Instead of going to the palazzo, they changed the boat at one of the city jetties to a larger one that took them to one of the Lidos.

They had not even had time to get off the boat when Jolyne was greeted by the voices of three women—Ermes, F.F., and Trish. They were quick to embrace her. Emporio was behind them and greeted Jolyne shyly. She pulled him in to join the embrace.

"Oh, you came with company," F.F. said, pointing to Shizuka. "This means we won't be able to fit in the six-seater van. Well, we can always stuff her in the trunk."

"No need, signorina Fighters, I think I have a better idea." Giorno's voice came from behind the van. He stepped out pushing an impressive-looking motorcycle. Covered from head to toe in black, he wore a tight leather-looking biker suit that accentuated his height and made him seem even more menacing than usual. At the same time, he was sexy as hell, with his blond hair being the only note of color, like a gold banner. "I thought someone might want to come with me."

Jolyne practically hopped on the bike, giving Giorno a brief kiss on the lips before continuing to admire the vehicle.

"It's beautiful. How fast can it go?" Jolyne asked, her eyes sparkling. Giorno was clear right then and there that he wasn't going to be the one driving. "I've never been into cars, but motorcycles..."

"Did I tell you that besides this Harley, I have a Kawasaki trials bike and a Ronax 500?" Giorno asked, amused by her enthusiasm.

"Oh God, marry me," Jolyne said dramatically.

"That's what we're going to Verona for," he said with a smile before seeing her confused face. "It's the first municipality that gave the go to process all the paperwork."

"And oddly enough, it's the same city where the story of Romeo and Juliet took place," Jolyne said, raising an eyebrow before grabbing the helmet he offered her. Of course, the place he had randomly picked happened to be the city of Romeo and Juliet.

When Mista told them that they wouldn't be able to keep up with them on the motorcycle, she took it as a challenge to overtake them. The two-hour ride was over in less time. From the way Giorno had squeezed her waist throughout, he must not be used to sitting as a passenger in the back.

"Come on, we only have two hours to get you a decent dress and fix you up at the hotel. You can make out when you're married!" Trish shouted at them, practically dragging Jolyne away. "We've booked a super exclusive boutique, and they already have your measurements. Come on."

Ermes and F.F. flanked Jolyne on either side, each looping one of their arms with hers, pushing her forward with Trish leading the way. Jolyne shot Giorno one last look over her shoulder, and he raised his hand, making a small wave.

As the girls walked to the next street, they passed a thrift store. Jolyne stood at a standstill in front of the window.

"Come on, Sorellina, we're in a hurry," Trish scolded her, before realizing that Ermes and F.F. were looking at the same thing she was.

"I don't think we need to go to the store," Jolyne replied, unable to tear her gaze away from the display. "After hearing so much nonsense about gravity and fate, I think this was waiting for me."

Chapter 51: Neutron Star Collision

Chapter Text

"It's Versace," Jolyne said, seated while wearing a hotel robe. Trish stared her down with her arms crossed. "And it's perfect. It's as if it was made for me."

"sh*t, girl. You need to stop sulking,” Ermes said to Trish while applying compact powder to Jolyne's face. “It's her wedding."

"You're marrying a filthy rich man in a second-hand dress!" Trish said with a high-pitched growl.

"No, I'm marrying a man I love in a dress I love. Where it came from isn’t important."

Jolyne didn't have much patience left for Trish precisely because Giorno had made her spend the whole day at Trish's whims. Since they were rushed to pick out the ring in a local jewelry store, which didn't have a large stock, Giorno had stopped by beforehand and shortlisted a few options. While Mista waited for the girls, Giorno was already on his way to get ready for the ceremony, informing her that she could even choose a ring that went over the budget of 1,500 euros he had allocated. However, the simpler designs that Jolyne favored were not on the shortlist and were much cheaper. The poor jeweler had had a very hard time watching the fight that ensued between the don's future wife and one of his consigliere, who was ordered to make sure she didn't make a bad choice.

She knew that Giorno had grown up in poverty, which was where his tendency for extravagance must have come from, but sometimes, she felt like jolting him to bring him back down to earth.

The girls were doing the final preparations in a hotel room. Trish was already dressed up, wearing a long pink Versace halter dress, with an opening in the skirt. Having insisted on helping Jolyne do her makeup, Ermes had set aside her own outfit, a bright copper-colored suit, to wear later. Shizuka had not stopped pouting since she put on the classic flower girl dress they hurriedly bought for her at the boutique, claiming it was too childish for her age. F.F. seemed to have wandered off somewhere with Emporio at some point, finding the preparations tedious.

Jolyne felt a small twinge of regret that her mom wasn't there with her, but it was too late for regrets. Rushed as it was, the wedding would be a kind of insurance, so to speak. Unlike Donatello, the priest, being Catholic, would at least understand that the marriage was a sacred union. Or so she hoped.

"Give me a break," Jolyne said. "When I said I was getting married on the spur of the moment, I was expecting something more Vegas and less couture."

"That's what happens when you marry a posh European," Ermes replied, putting down the dirty brush and grabbing a new one. "Or any European, I guess."

"Isn't getting married in Las Vegas something you only do when you're drunk?" Trish sighed and uncrossed her arms, dropping them to her sides. "When we do this again, I'm not going to give in so easily. But I will admit, posh as he is, Giorno probably won't notice the dress when he sees you dolled up as a bride for him."

The mayor of the city was at the door of the church. Hearing that it was the Don of Passione who was requesting the papers, he had happily come to deliver them himself. Few people could refuse having the don owe them a favor. The same was true of that church's priest, who had made a special opening at the don's first call.

The church was so close that taking a car would have been ridiculous. Locals and tourists watched the bride's retinue as they walked by, although in a city like Verona, there was no lack of weddings. Not for nothing was it a city known for a famous love story.

It was almost noon and it was quite hot outside, but luckily in the 16th-century church, despite the stained glass windows, it was quite cool. Giorno waited patiently inside. He wore a black Armani suit, much more classic than his usual style, with only the shirt being the same pink that Jolyne had dyed her bangs.

Anyone who saw him would think he was completely calm; even Mista beside him, the best man, seemed more nervous than him. That, of course, was only the outward appearance, for on the inside, Giorno had a thousand doubts crowding inside. But the instant the first notes of the church organ began to sound, the only thing on his mind was Jolyne.

The cameras of the professional photographers flashed as the three bridesmaids entered first, going to the front in a disorderly fashion. After them came the flower girl, moving down the aisle with a nervous smile while breathing calmly. Finally, behind her entered the bride, holding a little boy's hand in place of her father's, as they walked to the altar.

Her floor-length wedding dress was deceptively simple—a white empire cut dress with a scoop neckline and straps, mixing several fabrics cut irregularly in different lengths; the switch between pleated and embroidered fabrics made for a very special effect. On her feet, she had elected to wear simple white sandals with kitten heels. Her hairstyle was similar to her everyday one, but without the braid at the end, so her hair was loose and elegantly curled. The two buns were decorated with a few butterfly hairpins, and she wore matching butterfly earrings too. And that was it; nothing else covered her.

As Trish had predicted, Giorno didn't notice any of it once he laid eyes on Jolyne.

She gave him a smile that made him break his unperturbed facade to smile back.

The door of the church was closed, so no one but those present witnessed the most powerful man in Italy marry for love. At the time, the Don of Passione was only Giorno, a young man in love.

While the priest's speech was just a classic wedding Bible reading and a brief, inconsequential litany about love, it was the groom's words that were worth remembering.

Giorno faced Jolyne, speaking from the bottom of his heart. "I've always believed that if love existed, it was something I did not deserve. Having always been able to control my circ*mstances quite well, I thought that what they call destiny was nothing more than my will. Then, unexpectedly, you came along, and like with everything else, you didn't let my personal beliefs control you. You made me fall for you without trying."

Jolyne couldn't stop smiling at him, and the smile that broke out across his own face was one so rare for everyone aside from her.

"I've thought a lot about love since getting to know you," Giorno continued, "and I've decided that even though I still don't believe I'm worthy, you make me want to dedicate every day of my life to being so."

All eyes were then on Jolyne, and although there were only a handful of people, she suddenly felt nervous.

"Wow, sorry, I didn't know I had to prepare anything," she said with embarrassment. Looking into Giorno's reassuring eyes, she gathered her courage and began.

"The last few months have been extremely hard, at times even almost unbearable, but despite everything, in the middle of the chaos, I found you. Knowing the kind of luck Joestars have, I knew I shouldn't let something as good as you go. And that's why we're here, taking things so fast that people will think I'm pregnant." She smiled nervously as the priest tried to keep his composure and seriousness. "What I mean to say is, I'm not very good with romantic words and all that, but I love you. I know that with a certainty like few other things."

The little noise of her friends' cries told her they approved, but at that moment, all her attention was focused on Giorno. His eyes were glassy and there was a smile on his lips. He seemed overwhelmed hearing her vows.

When the official declaration of marriage was given and they were told that they could kiss, they did so with such impetus that they accidentally butted heads. The pair laughed before trying again, joining their faces together.

The photographers snapped away, trying to commemorate each moment. It didn't take too long for the newly married couple’s friends to sweep over them with their congratulations. The mayor approached them too to have them sign the papers. Jolyne had gone so long without seeing her real name that she was almost caught off guard seeing it on the marriage certificate.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Signore and Signora Giovanna," the mayor said once everything had been signed. "It has been an honor to be chosen to oversee this civil union. Verona welcomes you with open arms. We're happy to be the city of lovers, for you and others."

"Weren't Romeo and Juliet only part of a fictional story?" Jolyne asked.

"Well, yes, but over time, so many lovers have come to recreate the story that we've truly become a city of lovers. Although, usually lovers with much better luck than the ones Shakespeare wrote," the man told her, almost as if sharing a secret between the two of them. "The story may not have been real, but the feelings it was about are. Stories, Signora Giovanna, can shape the world through our willpower."

It was already late, and once the nerves and anxiety had passed, everyone was hungry. Hence, they went to a Michelin-starred restaurant.

"I still don't know how you guys can live in this country and not be round," Ermes said, patting her bloated stomach. The menu had no shortage of pasta along with Italian meats and vegetables that were washed down with good wine. Then there was also the dessert; in the absence of a wedding cake, there was a variety of sweets, including Torta Russa and the unforgivable Baci di giulietta.

The new husband and wife, sitting next to each other, would entwine their hands underneath the table every now and then. It gave Jolyne a slight sense of deja vu, remembering the family dinner at the palazzo, but without the fear of being caught or judged.

When she looked up, she met F.F.'s gaze, who was dressed in a knee-length green Chanel dress with a wide flounce. There were multiple empty glasses in front of her on the table, as she had consumed nothing but water and wine since the feast began.

Just when Jolyne was wondering if plankton could get drunk, F.F. separated her mouth from her glass to say, "Are you guys going to try making babies tonight?"

Jolyne nearly spat out her drink, causing Giorno to raise an eyebrow at her reaction.

"No." Ignoring all the attention, she patted her mouth with a napkin. "I mean, I think it's too early. Married couples don't have to have children right away, do they?"

Giorno nodded, taking her hand and planting a kiss on it. Even if he wanted to have children with her, he would prefer it to be after the whole vampirism issue was fixed.

"Well, it's not like you'd have a hard time raising them," Trish added, feeding a piece of fritole to one of the six bullets. "I know who'd be lining up to babysit. It's a real shame none of the others in Rome could come."

"It would have been too suspicious if my whole council came in a hurry. We'll repeat the wedding later, and everyone will have the place they deserve." Giorno inwardly hoped everything would really be so easy. "Today was a formality, with nothing prepared. In fact, I'm ashamed at how we practically got married in rags."

Jolyne was grateful that Giorno didn't know that her dress was second-hand. He hadn't noticed all throughout the ceremony or the feast, and hopefully, he wouldn't notice later either when they were alone. In the bedroom.

"I need to use the bathroom," she announced, getting up. She shot her female companions a look.

"Right, me too," Trish said, standing up at the same time as Ermes.

F.F. looked at them blankly, remaining seated, but Ermes yanked on her arm, pulling her to stand up as well.

"Not you, young lady," Trish told Shizuka, who had begun to follow. "You stay right there."

Shizuka scowled at her before plopping back down. The women cleared out, leaving behind Shizuka, Giorno, Mista, and Emporio at the table.

"I'll never understand why women always go to the bathroom together," Mista said. "It's one of the great mysteries of the world. They look as if they're attending some kind of coven meeting."

"Actually, it's no real secret. They go in a group to hold each other's bags," Emporio replied. The two adults looked at him with surprise. "What? You only have to listen to know..."

Too busy fixated on the boy and his wisdom, they didn't notice that Shizuka had disappeared from her seat.

"So, how are you feeling now, Mrs. Giovanna?" Trish said once they reached the bathroom. Jolyne didn't know if she would ever get used to hearing the new address. "You made it past the wedding ceremony, but are you ready for what comes next?"

Thinking about the wedding night, Jolyne's face reddened. She clutched her purse and stood before one of the mirrors, taking a deep breath to assuage the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"Are you nervous?" Trish asked, rubbing her back. "Relax, Giorno would rather cut his hand off than hurt you."

"The golden boy really does love you," Ermes affirmed. "He'll be careful. Besides, losing your virginity hurts less than any of the beatings I've seen you take without batting an eye. It kind of depends on the size. Going off of how large his hands are, it might be a little uncomfortable for you at first."

Jolyne didn't know how to interpret the look that passed between Trish and Ermes, as if they knew a secret. She was a little afraid to ask.

"It doesn't look all that painful in the human mating documentaries I've watched," F.F. added thoughtfully, sloshing the wine in her glass, which she had brought with her. "Although, the videos have funny names and it all seems a bit unpleasant and they point to the genitals too often..."

The other three, realizing all at once what the so-called documentaries she was referring to actually were, burst out laughing. There was a brief, embarrassing explanation about what the films were for by Ermes, who had a harder time than F.F. did.

"About losing your v-card," Trish began, "before getting to the big moment, first you have to—"

"Ugh, it sucks that everyone knows," Jolyne complained. "I still can't believe my dad sat in on a meeting with other very serious people to discuss it."

"It'll soon all be in the past, Sorellina," Trish crooned. "I'm so happy for both of you. Do you know how it all works? If you have questions, you can ask me and Ermes. Now is the time. You're under control with hormones, so protection is assured, and Giorno shouldn't have any disease. Seriously, not even a cold can get past his Stand, but..."

"My mom already gave me the talk some time ago," Jolyne said, interrupting her again. "And I had sex education. I didn't live in a cave before… I think I'm fine, thank you."

Ermes squeezed her shoulder, looking like a proud parent for some reason. "You've got this."

"Yeah!" A voice out of nowhere echoed.

At any other time, they might have been startled, but Jolyne was quick to reach out with one hand and catch the invisible eavesdropper.

A minute later, Shizuka stormed back to her seat. The boys hadn't even realized she was gone. Only Emporio made a show of noticing. The others did not take long to return, still blushing from laughter and the topic of conversation.

"What are you guys giggling about?" Emporio asked as they took their seats.

"They were giving Jolyne tips on how to lose her vinyl," F.F. replied, picking at her empty glass. "But if you ask me, they're overcomplicating it. It'd be much faster to just give it away to someone who wants it, a music lover. Any takers?"

"Oh, hey, look at the time!" Jolyne shouted, standing up again. "I think it's about time we retired."

Seeing Giorno's blush, she became aware of what the situation looked like—that she seemed anxious to start their wedding night. She hadn't thought her face could feel any hotter, but she was proven wrong. Well, just because she hadn't said it with that intention, it didn't mean that wasn't how she felt.

Chapter 52: Love You To Death

Chapter Text

Normally, a hotel presidential suite with the best view in Verona was not something easily booked overnight, even with a lot of money. However, Don Giovanna's influence and name were more effective than money. The room was ready for them by the time they returned to the hotel, with hundreds of lit candles on the floor and furniture perfuming the air with the scent of wax and jasmine, creating an intimate atmosphere. On the nightstand was a bottle of Moet champagne, two flute glasses, and a box of chocolates.

It had taken a little longer than usual to open the door because, while Giorno wanted to be traditional and cross the threshold with her in his arms, Jolyne wanted to show off the fruits of her training by carrying him without any problems unlike last time. But with a sweet "per favore" whispered in her ear and the knowledge that they were going to need all the luck they could muster soon, Jolyne finally agreed to be carried. It was a concession she would gladly give.

When they entered, Giorno gently placed her on the large, soft bed. Jolyne watched with anticipation as he slowly shrugged off his suit jacket, taking each arm out of his sleeve before twisting around to place it on the clothes butler. Then he turned back and began approaching her. Reaching the foot of the bed, he stopped and just stood there.

Jolyne was no vampire but she could practically smell the nervousness on him. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was the virgin and not her. Despite having come close to doing it before, Giorno was still afraid of hurting her.

Figuring some wine might help ease his nerves, she turned to the nightstand to grab the bottle of champagne. That's when she noticed a small bag of red liquid that had been discreetly placed next to it. Curious, she lifted it to inspect it. It looked like…

Giorno let out a breath behind her.

"That’s for me," he said, running his hands through his hair in embarrassment. "I ordered them to place it there when making the preparations."

Luckily in luxury hotels, the staff were used to fulfilling the strangest of requests. Who knew what the poor man in charge of fulfilling those demands had had to do to get the bag. Since Giorno had grown fangs, this was a protective measure he took every time he went to bed with someone; a well-fed beast was more docile.

Giorno gingerly took the blood bag from her hands. "If it makes you sick, I can drink it in the bathroom. It's for… not being hungry when we begin."

Now that Jolyne thought about it, except for that one time at the gangster party when he scooped blood from a traitor, he actively avoided drinking blood in front of her.

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to marry a half-vampire," Jolyne reassured him, passing him one of the flute glasses, "so you don’t have to be so shy. Just wash it down with champagne afterward."

Jolyne watched as he opened the plastic bag and poured its contents into the glass, filling it to the top. She grabbed the other glass and poured herself champagne, then clinked the glass against Giorno's blood-filled one.

"Cheers to us," she said. "But especially me, who has fulfilled my dreams of marrying a disney prince, a vampire, and a delinquent all in one. That's what I call efficiency."

Giorno smiled, relaxing. Seeing him lighten up, Jolyne was pleased with herself. She took a sip of her champagne, which tickled her tongue.

"I just realized," she said, "but with all the care you take when kissing me, isn't it just as dangerous when you touch me?"

"My instincts always tell me to bite, more so when it's someone like... Let's just say that every pore of my skin screams that you're the most delicious of creatures, love." He felt the urge to refill his glass, as not having even a trace of bloodlust was going to be important, but the blood bag was already empty. "Fortunately for both of us, even though you smell so delicious, I am more inclined to enjoy you in other ways."

He never thought that white was Jolyne's color, but apparently, her color was whatever she wore. The white silk on her skin stood out in a delightful way. She currently only had the buns, without the braid, so the rest of her hair fell in waves down her back. He had never seen it all down, and now, he decided he would have to.

Finishing up his blood, he said, "Do you need help with your hair?"

"I can do it myself," she replied, fiddling with her champagne glass.

"Let me rephrase that. Would you allow me to help you?" He took the glass from her to refill it. "I want to pamper you, so please let me."

Considering that Giorno had longer and better groomed hair than she did, Jolyne had no doubt that he knew what to do. Even though there was plenty of space, she scooched over and presented her back to him.

The bed dipped as Giorno took a seat behind her. She felt his fingers carefully remove all the clips holding up her buns and then comb her hair without pulling it at any point, creating a pleasant sensation on her scalp. After how exciting the whole day had been, such a relaxing little break felt good to Jolyne. Then his hands left her hair, only to move to her shoulders, beginning to massage them. Jolyne felt that if she hadn't married him a few hours ago, she would ask him to marry her right then and there.

After finishing, he hugged her from behind, and they stayed like that for a couple of minutes, sharing one another's warmth.

"For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do," Giorno said softly against her ear. "I'm very clear about what I want to do to you, but I'm afraid of hurting you."

It seemed no amount of assurance would convince Giorno that it would be okay. Jolyne was quiet for a moment before speaking up.

"I think I might know just what we need," she said with flushed cheeks. She wanted to turn around and face him, but then thought better of it when she continued. "You know how Bruno trained me in my strings' other uses? He gave me some pointers with dating, sharing what he and Abba… Uh, anyway, if it helps, I could… tie you up with my strings and drive Hamon in them."

She held her breath, waiting for his response. Instead of answering right away, Giorno grabbed her champagne glass on the bed and drained it in one gulp. She watched as he slowly placed it back and cleared his throat.

"That doesn't sound so bad," he replied, and then hurriedly added, "In fact, it sounds like an excellent idea. That's what we should do."

"Are you sure?" Jolyne was glad he seemed to be on board but had her own qualms out of concern. "Couldn't it hurt you? Couldn't G.E.R. attack me if I hurt you without thinking about it?"

"I don't mind if it hurts a little. I have a high tolerance for something like this even in such a context." He knew from reading Jolyne's eyes the moment she understood what exactly he was referring to. "And about G.E.R... It's true that he could heal me, but he would never attack you. I want you to understand that even if I have Requiem, he is still an extension of my soul and I would rather die than hurt you."

When someone said things like that, they usually spoke in hyperboles, but when it came to Giorno, he meant every word. Even though he was practically immortal thanks to his stand, with his job, he couldn't help but think about mortality and calculate how much his life was worth in each situation. For Jolyne's, he didn't have to. He was so in love with her that he knew that nothing in the world would be worth anything if she was gone.

And Jolyne knew it too. She couldn't explain how, but she tasted the truth in his words just as she noticed it in his every action. She felt overwhelmed by his love, but sometimes, she felt scared to be aware of everything she felt for him.

Jolyne kissed him so suddenly that he knocked over the fine champagne glasses to the floor. The sound of the glass shattering made them break apart, but only for a few seconds, just long enough for the sharp crystals to turn into little flowers that posed no danger when stepped on.

Giorno's hands began to run over Jolyne's shoulders and back, caressing her while kissing her. He had to pull away from her a little when he saw that despite trying to be discreet, she was getting too frustrated trying to remove his shirt and failing.

"I’ve become fond of that shirt,” she said. “Please don't transform it."

As nervous as she was, she didn't tremble one bit as Giorno released the buttons of his shirt one by one. She looked at him as if he were a feast. Never had a look of admiration pleased him so much. When he offered to help her undress, Jolyne shook her head and, despite blushing, did not stop looking at him for a moment while she pulled down the zipper of her dress.

She kicked the dress out of the way; unbeknownst to Giorno, it was actually so he wouldn't see the label and realize the dress was secondhand.

"It's weird," she said, standing in front of him in only her underwear, a simple light blue silk set. "Normally, I have no shame about my body. If I had, I wouldn't have survived in prison, but when you look at me..."

Giorno nodded; he understood her perfectly. He liked to show off, in a way, and feel the looks of admiration on him. Many people had seen him naked, but there was a kind of nervous anticipation in waiting for her to see him. Perhaps because he had never cared so much about being liked by anyone.

Standing only in their underwears, he embraced her as he kissed her, her skin as warm as if she had been sunbathing. Occasionally, his fingers briefly stopped on some scars; they were so beautiful that it hurt. He had nothing against them aesthetically, but they were a reminder of how strong she had been. Of how strong she was.

The silk of the underwears were exchanged for the silk of the sheets of the huge bed that welcomed them, but it was not these that covered Giorno, but Jolyne. Literally. It was not only because she was on top of him, but because her threads imprisoned him with bonds that he had no intention of removing, for she had long since bound him from the very center of his heart.

"Shouldn't we use protection...?"

"The coach put us on the pill so that the disciples wouldn't have irregular periods during training," she replied, declining what he was offering. "But if you feel comfortable without..."

"Jolyne, amore mio, luce della mia vita. As your husband, I want to be completely yours, so you may take me as you wish."

"Dude," Jolyne said, covering her face with her hands in shame even while sitting naked on top of him. "You can't say these things without warning."

Giorno gently pulled her hands away from her face to kiss them and then, in a playful gesture, sucked her ring finger, where she wore her wedding ring. Jolyne threw herself into his arms again to kiss him. They both lost track of time as their hands roamed each other's bodies, until Giorno, with a breathy moan, asked her to start circulating the Hamon. It hurt a little, as if the ropes were too tight on his body. But it was innocuous next to all the pleasure he was feeling at that moment and certainly nothing comparable to what he felt just a few moments later.

The moment he entered, he felt his inner beast roar in a way that almost made him lose control. Luckily, the one who slightly lost it was her, causing a little more Hamon than intended to run through his bonds. That was okay, as it helped him keep his sanity.

He felt her tense up on him, obviously hurting, so he didn't want her to notice his own pain. But Jolyne bore with it. He let her settle before he began to move with her. He was doing everything he had dreamed of, and he hoped to give his all to be enough for her. If he wasn't able to accomplish it that night, he planned to make it up to her for the rest of their lives.

For a while, their quickened breaths and moans filled the room. He didn't know where to look; he didn't want to miss her, but he was sometimes so overwhelmed by the pleasure of having her that he couldn't help but close his eyes. She was the most beautiful work of art he had ever seen. When he felt her fingers curling against his thigh, he knew she was on the verge of coming even before she did, although he also knew he was at his own limit when he felt his heart beat faster and faster.

Jolyne reached her peak, and it didn't take too long for him to follow. Finally, she released him from his bonds and collapsed on top of him. He was at first numb to any kind of sensation other than the afterglow of the spasm he was experiencing but then he noticed that the focus of her attention was on his arms. There, he found red marks all over where he had been bound. Not wanting her to get up or leave his side for any reason, he let her know he was fine by wrapping those same arms around her. After giving her a smile and swallowing his own pain, his body was healthy again, as if he hadn't been bound with something that was so dangerous to him until a few moments ago.

"So..." Jolyne started to say, looking slightly embarrassed but also cautious. "What’s that special nose of yours telling you now?"

"The same as always." He made a show of bringing a lock of her soft pink hair to his nose and sniffing it. "The smell of your blood can drive a person crazy."

In truth, her scent had changed slightly; it didn’t smell any less fragrant, but it no longer felt as overpowering. Enough so that he felt beyond physically relaxed and was even in the mood to tease her like a child. He could not remember having felt that way in any other sexual encounter he had before.

When Jolyne started to get up with alarm, taking his joke seriously, he shifted in the bed and lifted his upper body so that he was at eye level with her. Then he captured her in a hug and buried his nose in her neck. "All the better to smell you with."

Jolyne sighed with relief then laughed. "So, I guess this night of passion broke the curse but somehow turned you into the thing your gang was missing all along, a werewolf."

"If that’s what you’re into, maybe I could arrange for something with G.E.R.—"

He couldn't finish what he was going to say because, between laughter and embarrassment, Jolyne threw one of the discarded cushions at him. His heart warmed, and it was as if the last remaining layer of defense, that which clung to maintain an everlasting dignity, lowered. He felt like a complete human for the first time in years, maybe even for the first time ever. He loved her and she loved him. She had given herself to him and stood beside him laughing happily. He was more certain than ever that he had finally found his home.

Chapter 53: Que Bonito

Chapter Text

Jolyne awakened with the sunrise. Although she hated getting up early, her body had become accustomed to the sun, despite the curtains of the hotel room being closed. Feeling slightly disoriented, it wasn't long before she noticed a warm body next to hers underneath the covers. She smiled and straightened up slightly to see Giorno asleep beside her. He looked as serene as ever; however, without that certain air of tension, he seemed truly relaxed. She wanted to caress the curls that fell on his forehead but was afraid that it would wake him up.

Unfortunately for her, Giorno was very used to being on alert, so he was hypersensitive to her gaze even in his sleep. His eyes darted underneath his eyelids before slowly opening.

"You can go back to sleep," Jolyne whispered, no longer restraining herself from stroking his forehead and playing with his curls. "It's super early."

"Don't want to," he mumbled, leaning into her touch. "I'd rather spend as much time as I can with my wife before we have to go back."

"Your wife..." Jolyne felt a flutter in her stomach, still getting used to the new address. "My family is going to go crazy when they find out. Maybe it would be better to continue to keep our marriage a secret for a little longer, at least until I break the news to my dad." Her face contracted. "Oh, God. Forget Dad, Mom is going to filet me when she finds out we didn't invite her."

"Would it do any good to make you and your mother both in charge of organizing the public ceremony? Of course, we could hire a wedding planner instead and you would have the final say for everything, but it might serve to placate her." Giorno moved a little closer to pull her to him and hug her better. "I don't want you to get in trouble with your family because of me."

"Well, they can get angry, but if there's one thing I've learned lately, it's that my family loves me unconditionally."

Giorno made a noise of agreement in his throat.

Jolyne opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but then closed it. After some hesitation, she tried again.

"Hey Giorno, about the official wedding, I was just wondering, but... Are you thinking of inviting your own mom?"

Giorno's brows pulled in as he snuggled closer against her. Burying his nose in her skin and taking a sniff, he was able to catch a faint whiff of the cherry blossom-scented shower gel she used last night after their lovemaking. With the smell of her blood no longer so overpowering, he had been able to appreciate the fragrance for once and slept soundly in her arms. If she wasn't in any pain right now, then—

"Punzie?"

Giorno sighed, moving his face back. He had gone so long without thinking about Lucia Giovanna, blocking everything about her. But as his wife, Jolyne deserved to know about certain things. Maybe he should have told her before they even agreed to marry.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable," Jolyne quickly said. "I mean, I'm your wife, not your mistress. You can have your secrets or share them whenever you want. Moreover, there are things that should stay between you and Josuke in therapy. It was just a passing thought."

"No, I think I'd rather tell you," Giorno said, almost surprised by how comfortable he felt with her. Anyway, he didn't want to keep secrets like this that would be disastrous to discover in the long run. "Even if we do invite her, I don't know if she'll come. I've hardly seen her since I killed her husband."

Jolyne's eyes widened but she waited patiently for him to explain.

Giorno stroked one of her soft locks of hair, absentminded for a moment. "You're aware that my stepfather used to abuse me during my childhood, but that isn't why I killed him. He did something much worse later, completely unforgivable."

He became hesitant for a moment, but Jolyne gave him a kiss on the wrist as encouragement.

"I was 15 when I joined Passione. You already know all about that, and how I got away from my mother and stepfather. Even though the underworld was in a huge uproar about a teenage boy becoming Don practically overnight, neither of them connected it to me since they never cared to check up on how I was doing. Not that I paid them any attention either, other than making sure my enemies couldn't go after them to try and use them against me. That's until one day, two years later, when my mother and I happened to cross paths at a block party…"

Recalling Lucia's dazed look when she took in all the bodyguards that obstructed her way toward him, he remembered his initial indifference to her. His regret that he had selected to wear a black designer suit instead of the hottest pink outfit in his wardrobe. And his shock when he glimpsed the barely noticeable bump of her belly.

"She was actually pregnant. After neglecting her firstborn for more than 17 years, my mother was about to ruin another child's life because of her own carelessness. Saying that I was furious would be an understatement. A couple of weeks later, at some point, I thought to myself 'I'll be turning 18 soon, and I have the resources to spare to save my future sibling'. So, I contacted her and offered to raise the baby, my sister—it was going to be a girl. I even got in touch with nannies and moved from the penthouse into the palazzo permanently… But I didn't count on my stepfather… I never knew that he would hit her too. I should have stormed their door and taken my mother with me while she finished the gestation."

Noticing him becoming tenser, Jolyne hugged him tightly.

"The hospital called me directly. Imagine how hard of a time I had recognizing my mother with the number of blows he had given her on her face and all over her body. Apparently, she told him that she was going to leave him, that she would not give up my sister to me but was willing to accept my protection."

Giorno clenched his fist, his fingers trembling.

"That bastard then decided that if the baby wasn't going to be his, it would be no one's. A neighbor who heard the screams and shouts coming from their house dialed the emergency number, but it was too late. While my mother narrowly survived, my sister was not so lucky. Even though it wasn't her fault, I coudn't help but hold my mother partially responsible. That's why I paid for her to get cosmetic surgery operations instead of curing her with G.E.R. myself. As for my stepfather… I'd only ever killed with my fists once before, but that night, there was a second instance. I didn't feel even a hint of remorse afterward, to tell you the truth. After so many years of terror, seeing his gaze filled with fear of me was sublime."

Giorno took a deep breath and braved a glance at Jolyne's expression, only to see that it was steady and unflinching. He felt assured. Skipping past the part where he stripped himself of his bloodstained clothes and burned them along with his stepfather's corpse to ashes, he continued.

"I went back to the hospital and told Lucia that she was free, that she didn't have to fear anymore, and to call me if she ever needed anything. Sometimes, she does try to contact me but it's only for money. I send her some and then ignore her until the next call." He let out a short laugh. "Me and family are a cursed thing, aren't we?"

Jolyne was quiet for a while, not knowing what to say. She loathed Giorno's mother from everything she heard about her, but knowing the full story made her stomach cringe. The woman had been careless and even abusive in the past but she was also a victim. Jolyne could tell from Giorno's words that he knew that too. As always, he felt guilty for something he had been helpless to do anything about. Feeling her eyes become moist, Jolyne realized she was on the verge of tears for that little girl who would have had an adoring big brother had she lived.

"If you want my opinion..." Jolyne began, continuing at Giorno's nod. "I don't know if you should invite her, but... it has been quite a while and I'd like to think people can change. Sometimes, we don't even know the whole story. Maybe it would do you some good to talk to her. And if you want, you don't have to go alone."

Giorno stared at Jolyne. Now that he had shared it with her, the story that had hurt him so much suddenly didn't seem like a burden. Her suggestion even seemed like a good idea. It's not that he hadn't thought of it himself before, but he didn't feel ready back then. Now that he had found the missing piece that completed his family, he felt more confident.

His friends and Jolyne weren't how he thought a family would be, but to him, they were just that. Now that he had them, maybe he could try talking to the woman who hadn't been family to him since he was a boy.

The ride back to Air Suplena took longer than the ride there because they looked for any excuse to stop, not wanting the journey to be over. Sadly, all good things eventually have to come to an end.

That afternoon, instead of getting to enjoy her honeymoon as a newlywed, Jolyne was stuck listening to Koichi's endless nagging about her and Shizuka's disappearance when she returned. She had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes at his "sympathy" and was even glad when Lisa Lisa called for her. Anything was better than having a talk about responsibility with that manlet.

Lisa Lisa was on the balcony where she watched the training. She may be in mourning, but if she made her and Shizuka work, she wouldn't neglect her own duties. Surely, she was personally observing the punishment she had given to Iulius, no doubt some kind of extra harsh training. Jolyne suspected that the old woman was especially hard on the boy because she was considering passing him her management duties in the future.

"Master," Jolyne said to the old woman politely as she entered, hoping a pleasant attitude would soften her heart.

"I didn't call you here to punish you. Well, not entirely anyway. Come in and sit next to me." Lisa Lisa patted the couch she was on. There was no tea served as on other occasions, and she was not wearing her sunglasses either. "I want to ask you for the truth, not as my pupil but as my descendant. How is Shizuka doing?"

There was so much concern in Lisa Lisa's eyes that Jolyne felt bad about the lie they had cooked up beforehand, which was that she took Shizuka out for a whirlwind trip to cheer her up. Lisa Lisa was Shizuka's grandma and she had lost too much too.

Jolyne looked around; they were alone and her dad wouldn't be back until the next afternoon.

"Can you keep a secret?" Jolyne said, though there was no need to even ask; her great-great-grandma wouldn't betray her. "Shizu's been feeling much better. Enough so that she made for a splendid flower girl in me and Giorno's wedding yesterday."

The old woman blinked. Then she burst into laughter. Jolyne was awed as always at how beautiful her laugh could sound.

"Amazing. As Suzie used to say, the Joestars always do the same." Lisa Lisa patted Jolyne on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. She got up as if to call for someone but then, remembering herself, sat back down reluctantly. "Since you've asked me to keep it a secret, I'll respect your wish and save the celebration for another day. Although, it shouldn't seem that surprising to anyone. You and Signore Giovana are so in love, I don't know how your father hasn't noticed."

“Talk of the Devil, and he is bound to appear,” Jolyne said.

“Si parla del diavolo e spuntano le corna,” Lisa Lisa replied, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. "But he will accept it, sooner or later. I advise you to tell your mother first and then let her tell him softly. He's very… indulgent with her."

Jolyne stared at her blankly, feeling as if she was missing something.

"Oh, it seems that you're just like your father, just as blind."

"Huh?" Jolyne frowned.

That only made Lisa Lisa laugh harder. Before Jotaro left for Japan, the whole island seemed to know that he was trying quite successfully to seduce his ex-wife. Or rather, it was Marena who was succeeding. His normally unperturbed face would slightly flush when she walked around in a bikini in front of him. Sometimes, Jotaro even had telltale hickeys on his neck, poorly concealed like some teenager.

"You're not the only one who has a secret that needs to be shared, but it isn't up to me to tell you," the old woman said, before taking Jolyne's hand. "But that will surely be tomorrow. Now it only remains for me to tell you how happy it makes me that, in the middle of all this, you found some happiness. The Joestars are resilient; that's why everything that is bad fears you. They can be as powerful as they want, but you resist the attacks like no one else. So, be happy; be victorious, my dear. Because your happiness will be the greatest victory."

They had found him, and it almost cost him his life. At the time, he came to believe that he could do everything thanks to his Stand, but when he fell under the control of his brother, Rikiel realized that all the power he thought he had was nothing more than an illusion. At least dying would be preferable to going back to doing as Donatello wanted just to stay alive. He would have liked to have a different life, one that hurt more to lose, to be able to live without the constant tightness in his chest when thinking about the terrible things that might be awaiting him at every turn and dead end.

He was almost in Venice. This meant that someone might at least find his corpse and warn Giorno. He could stop Donatello. Rikiel closed his eyes thinking about that. Giorno could stop Donatello… His oldest brother would be the light that would end the darkness that Donatello brought to the world.

He heard people talking and shouting in Italian. With one last look at the sun, Rikiel closed his eyes, satisfied.

He could already see the light. It hurt like hell, which he supposed was the point if that was where he was headed. Then his mind became completely blinded from the pain until it began to subside and he heard his name being called.

He blinked, his vision blurred, for his eyes were waterlogged with pain, but when he refocused his sight, Rikiel saw him, the savior he had been waiting for. Giorno stood in front of him with a determined expression. Rikiel smiled, feeling the pressure in his chest disappear before he fainted again.

Chapter 54: Peter Pan

Chapter Text

Giorno had not yet gotten off the boat after parting ways with Jolyne when he was called with a report of an incident that smelled of a malicious stand user all over. The wreckage and the chaos in the ports that were hidden from a normal person's eye said as much. However, when he rushed over to the site, he found something unexpected.

Rikiel's soul was already escaping his body by the time Giorno reached him; it was no wonder, with all the deep cuts and bruises covering him. His sorry state reminded Giorno too much of Abbacchio's in Sardinia. For once, Giorno was glad to not be quite human, as it gave him more stamina to give emergency treatment on the spot.

Only once he was certain that Rikiel's vitals were stable and he was no longer in danger did he step back and allow his men to bring over a stretcher. As they loaded him onto it, Rikiel opened his eyes, connecting his gaze to Giorno's. He cracked a weak smile. As Giorno found himself smiling back, Rikiel closed his eyes again.

Giorno watched as his men moved him to a boat that would take him to the palazzo, where he would recuperate and allow his body to rapidly heal thanks to his vampire blood. When they were out of sight, Giorno released a breath and took out a handkerchief to clean his hands of his brother's blood. After he was done, he tucked away the handkerchief and pulled out his phone.

He knew just who to call. A part of him wanted to handle the situation on his own, confident that he could control everything, but another part remembered the tragedy that occurred five years ago as a result of his own overconfidence. It wasn't worth it just to try to prove something.

"Dr. Kujo," Giorno said as soon as the call connected. "There's been a new development. My men just got a hold of one of my brothers here in Venice this morning."

"Is it Donatello?" Jotaro asked immediately.

"No, we weren't that lucky. Rikiel was found heavily wounded and almost dead at the ports. It appears there was a fight beforehand, and his assailant managed to flee; I'll have my men investigate the area. For now, Rikiel is being taken to the palazzo. Once he regains consciousness, he may be able to tell us some interesting things."

"Are you sure he can be trusted?"

Giorno nodded to himself. "We can't consider him an ally yet, but I suppose the enemy of our enemy is our friend."

"I took a ship ahead of the others, so I'll be back in a day," Jotaro replied in a dry voice, as usual. Just as Giorno thought they had reached the end of their conversation, Jotaro continued. "And… how is Jolyne?"

Giorno paused. He knew that Koichi updated Jotaro about his family's well-being regularly. If Jotaro wanted to know anything about them, he just had to ask his trusted subordinate. Yet, he had asked Giorno instead and only about Jolyne.

"She's been working really hard in her training," Giorno replied vaguely. "I hear Signora Elizabeth Joestar speak wonderful things about her."

"I see," Jotaro said. "That's good to hear."

Giorno knew he should leave it at that, but he couldn't help adding, "I think Jolyne is satisfied with everything she's achieved for herself, but she wouldn't mind hearing a little praise from her father once in a while."

The silence on the other end of the line was prominent. If Giorno didn’t hear Jotaro’s breathing, he would have thought he had left.

After many long seconds, Jotaro broke the silence. "You’re very skilled in analyzing people, Mr. Giovanna."

“It’s just part of my role to notice these things.” His role as Jolyne’s husband, that is. "If you’ll allow me to depart some advice to you, Dr. Kujo, talk to your daughter. As much faith as she has in you, I'm sure she would be happy just hearing a few compliments from you."

He did not have time to explain in further detail. Giorno had flushed discretion about his feelings for Jolyne down the toilet days ago. If his hunch was correct, Jotaro Kujo had finally begun to suspect that there was more to their relationship, and he was going to find out that he had a new son-in-law soon. Thus, Giorno wouldn't dissemble any longer.

Ending the call, Giorno realized he was smiling just at the thought of her. His wife. He had always known that he would have to have one some day because of his position, but he hadn't expected her to be the love of his life as well.

Speaking of, he should inform her as well. As a touch of protocol, he decided it was best to call Lisa Lisa directly, as Jolyne might not have her phone on her if she was in the middle of training.

"Giorno? Speak of the devil. I was just sharing tea with your wife."

Giorno felt his pulse race with joy hearing the words "your wife" come from someone else's mouth. Then he realized the implication in Lisa Lisa uttering them.

"Tsk, to think you snuck off with my great-great-granddaughter in the middle of the night," Lisa Lisa said. "Yet you didn't have the guts to invite me."

"I promise that you'll have a place of honor at the second wedding ceremony," he replied. "Expect no less."

Giorno then quickly filled her in on the situation.

"I see," the old lady said when he finished explaining. "Since this brother of yours is a stand user and a vampire, he must be dangerous. Questioning him will be tricky. I suppose you would like me to send over a couple of my people to assist with the interrogation?"

"I don't think that will be necessary, signora."

"Are you sure?" Lisa Lisa's voice was laced with amusem*nt. "I had in mind a very talented disciple who also happens to be a stand user. She's as sharp as a knife and as graceful as a butterfly."

Giorno stared at the horizon with his phone still to his ear, dazed. He knew who his second favorite Joestar was.

With nothing better to do until Jolyne's arrival, Giorno went to his office to start on the endless paperwork he had to do. You'd think being in the mafia would get him off the hook, but money laundering was a job that never seemed to end in terms of tasks to complete. Maybe he should listen to Fugo's advice and hire some assistants to take care of it. Just because the previous don hadn't had any, didn't mean he had to follow his example. After all, Diavolo ended up crazy, if he wasn't already born that way.

He would have liked to have less to do with finance and legal regulations than he did and more to do with other things. His fifteen-year-old dream had not taken into account how heavy the office part of the job would become in the long run, nor how hard it would be for him to carry it out when he was still studying. There were classmates who also did part-time jobs, but none that included anything from violently taking down a cartel to meeting with accountants about justifications to the IRS. While he had never been a bad student, he survived that time thanks to Fugo's help, for there were days when he felt like Narancia.

At some point, Sheila brought over another portion of the reports for him to sign and picked up the pile he had just finished with. Giorno checked his Rolex watch and saw that three-quarters of an hour had passed doing paperwork.

"Sheila," he said just as she turned to leave. "We'll be having visitors from Air Suplena in a little bit. Make sure the staff calls me as soon as they set foot in Venice. I want to personally receive my wife at the house pier."

"Of course, Boss."

Giorno massaged his neck and turned his attention to the new stack of papers.

"Wait, did you say 'wife'?"

Giorno raised his head and saw that Sheila had stopped halfway toward the door and was looking back at him with a strange expression. He was impressed; for once, Mista managed to keep his mouth shut and not spread gossip.

Although Giorno was well aware of how little fondness Sheila had for Jolyne, she would not poke her nose in his marriage, would she? In any case, his subordinates should be glad to know that their lady boss was a woman who had proven herself to be very useful to the organization.

"Yes, wife," he said, signing his name on the document in front of him. "Yesterday, she and I officially tied the knot in a small, private ceremony. It hasn't been made public yet, so only a handful of people know. I'm sure I don't have to tell you to keep this a secret."

Silence.

When he looked up from his papers again, he saw his bodyguard staring at him incredulously, her expression ping-ponging between a few different emotions. She seemed to want to articulate many words, but none fully formed on her lips.

In the end, she only choked out, "Is that why you insisted on going to Vernona by yourself the other day?"

Giorno nodded. "I hope you will treat her with the respect she deserves."

He wasn't exactly expecting congratulations on his marriage, but he was surprised by the look of utter disgust and slight hurt on Sheila's face before she backed away and hastened to exit the room.

It gave him a pause but only to think about how he should break the news to his other subordinates. Fugo, for example. He supposed he could leave that pleasure to Mista, who must be currently using every ounce of his willpower to keep his lips sealed.

No matter what, Giorno had no intention of undoing anything. Not unless Jolyne herself decided to leave him. Even if he lost his heart in the process, it was the only way that he would allow their marriage to end.

It had only been a few hours since they had seen each other, but when Jolyne stepped off the boat, Giorno felt as if it had been days. He stepped forward and reached for her hand, but she uncharacteristically shoved both her hands in her pockets and shook her head. Before he could ask her what was wrong, Koichi stepped out from behind her.

The little guy greeted him as normal, but for the first time, Giorno's eyes found him to be a sore sight. He could only act professionally and lead the pair into the palazzo.

"Jolyne, my dear,” Bruno said, appearing suddenly, “Congratulations on—"

He stopped abruptly when he saw Koichi. "…On your new hair color. Pink suits you very well." He winked at her before turning to the other two. "Giorno, the guest has already woken up and is restless. By the way, if you don't mind, Signore Hirose, could you come with me for a moment? You know, security stuff..."

As soon as Koichi turned a corner and was out of sight, Giorno finally turned toward his wife. Her eyes seemed to reflect the same longing that he felt. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her passionately right there. Before he knew it, he found himself cornered by her in the hallway. The couple shared a few kisses, enjoying each other's closeness. They were forced to part, however, when they heard footsteps coming down from another hallway, probably a servant.

"I wanted to warn you about Coochie before getting here," Jolyne said as they moved down the hallway, "but the old witch confiscated my phone as part of my punishment. Says I should learn to get along with him, the guy Dad sent to spy on me."

Giorno pictured Lisa Lisa laughing after her call with him. Just when he had decided that he liked her too.

"The good news is he won't be here for long," Jolyne added. "And… Master told me that I should stay the night since someone has to keep an eye on the dangerous vampire."

Giorno made a mental note to give his second favorite Joestar an extra special place of honor in the wedding ceremony.

They made it to a corridor with guest bedrooms and stopped before a door at the very end.

"Maybe I should go in by myself," Giorno said, reaching for the doorknob. "We don't know how he'll react to the sight of you."

"But that's precisely why I should go," Jolyne replied, urging him to open the door. "It's a good opportunity to see how he'll react to my blood compared to last time."

The room smelled of medicine and disinfectant. Even though they knocked first, Rikiel, who was resting on the bed, cringed a little as the door opened. His face was deathly pale, but the wounds covering his naked torso, having been cleaned of all the blood, were already beginning to scab.

Rikiel watched them tensely. He didn't seem to know what to say, too intimidated by Giorno's presence.

"It's good to see you again, Riki," Jolyne greeted him, causing him to blush a little. She couldn't help but be reminded of an abandoned kitten.

Rikiel wrinkled his nose and suddenly looked at her intently, co*cking his head to the side, then wincing in pain from the motion.

"Somehow, you smell different," he muttered. Realizing that she had heard, his eyes widened. "Wait, no. That was rude. I don't mean that you smelled bad before or anything, just..."

"Relax, it's okay. I know what you meant," Jolyne said with a giggle. He was so much more pleasant when he wasn't trying to kidnap her. "You're right, my smell has changed."

"I knew it. It's just weird that it changed."

"Want to hear a secret?" Jolyne said. "I'll tell you, but only if you promise not to snitch to anyone."

Giorno had a feeling the "secret" wouldn't remain a secret much longer.

As if sensing his feelings, Jolyne glanced at him, silently asking for his opinion. Giorno judged that Rikiel, who was pretty intelligent and probably better educated about being a vampire than him, would figure it out on his own eventually. Hence, he assented.

Jolyne turned back to Rikiel. "My smell is different because… well, I'm now officially your sister-in-law. For real this time."

Rikiel looked at them both for a few moments before understanding dawned on him. He had heard of blood purity in maidens before; it all made sense.

"There will be time to celebrate later. You don't need to congratulate us now," Giorno told him, trying not to intimidate him too much but unintentionally stepping into his role as Don. "Now, it's time to talk about other things. Like, for example, Ungalo."

With Rikiel under his wing, Giorno sensed that everything would move faster from here on out. Even if he had too much to lose this time, he wanted to get rid of the constant shadow threat posed by Donatello and Pucci once and for all. They had been an imminent threat for years, but now, he was ready to strike the final blow to finish them off. Only then could he finally live the life he had not dared to dream of before.

They left Rikiel so he could get cleaned up and eat. Giorno tried to make him comfortable, which was why he made the wise decision of putting him in Bruno's charge. The charismatic Bucciarati, who was a veteran in dealing with traumatized people with special abilites, quickly managed to put Rikiel at ease and gain his trust.

Once night fell over Venice, it was time to retire. Giorno was about to ask Jolyne if she wanted to accompany him to his bedroom when she was already turning down the hallway toward her old bedroom. His heart sank, but he supposed she just wasn't ready to share a bed with another person every night.

However, as he was putting on his sleeping robe in his room, Jolyne barged in through the door, her arms loaded with a folded set of clothes and some toiletries. "I'm so tired. Who knew traveling could be more exhausting than Hamon training."

She walked toward the dresser and dropped her belongings on top. "Don't mind me. I was thinking of bringing all my stuff, but then I figured that the bare necessities should be enough."

Catching his stunned look in the mirror's reflection, she turned around. "What? Did you think I was going to sleep separately from my husband?"

Giorno swallowed, ashamed for doubting it.

As he surveyed the suite, he thought that perhaps the palazzo was in need of another renovation. Jolyne might be fine with sharing and the suite was over all big enough for two people, but surely, it would be good to expand to add another dressing room for her. He would have to call the studio that was in charge of the renovations in the morning.

"Is there a bathtub in your bathroom?" Jolyne asked.

"There is. I usually prefer to shower because of the lack of time, but you can use it if you want." He walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "It will help you relax."

"You know what would help me relax even more?" She flashed him a shy smile. "Bathing with company."

Giorno smiled broadly.

Chapter 55: The Origin Of Love

Chapter Text

Jolyne had not bathed with anyone since she was a child, and Giorno, despite having sexual experience, had never shared a bath with another person. While the tub was being filled, they felt a little embarassed, but then they burst into laughter as they made calculations about how much volume of water would be needed for both of them. The marble tub was only filled at the bottom when Giorno climbed in naked. The way Jolyne looked at him amidst her giggles made it clear to him that they were going to end up spilling water all over the floor.

Submerged in the hot, flower-scented water with Jolyne cuddled on top of him, Giorno imagined himself to be in heaven. He massaged her shoulders and washed her back, making her feel comfortable and relaxed. He had been so certain that he would be able to restrain himself, but Jolyne's sweet moans as he massaged her tired back challenged his sanity.

He was not made of stone to be able to resist such temptation, much less when she turned around to face him, giving him a kiss. There was something special about the humid atmosphere, the glow of the few candles, and his wife's shiny, wet skin. It made him feel excited and a little overwhelmed, but he still wanted to take it slow, wrapped in that sensual cloud that contained only the two of them.

Jolyne's green eyes were his whole world; there was no jewel more beautiful. Every time she blinked, he thought she was going to steal his heart again. And yet, he was willing to lose that vision of pure beauty as he watched her close her eyes in pure delight at his touch, knowing that he was the one who caused the pleasure she felt, thus making it his own. Despite his desire to bite her, he allowed her to sink her own white teeth into his neck.

Jolyne was both metaphorically and literally in ecstasy. She had no other desire apart from cuddling up to her husband and enjoying his closeness. She thought that the previous night (and also that same morning) had been enough to calm her hormones. In the time Giorno neatly removed her clothes and got into the bathtub, she realized that she wasn't so tired that she couldn't take advantage of the situation.

When she turned to kiss him, she briefly wished she had Rohan's talent for capturing her husband's beauty, with his golden hair wet and his expression relaxed. His face was slightly flushed as he looked at her in that way that confirmed to her that he desired her in the same way she desired him.

She wanted him, and he was willing to be hers. It would be disrespectful to all that was beautiful not to take him, so she kissed him, and he kissed her back hungrily. She had never thought she was particularly possessive, but she wanted everything of his at that moment; his looks, his caresses that made her shiver, his kisses—everything. Hugging and kissing him was not enough, so she bit him, and he responded with a delicious moan.

In the end, the water ended up running out of the tub, but she couldn't care less. Her world was filled with gold and turquoise. It was so easy to lose herself in him, in her husband. For the first time, she completely abandoned herself to him and trusted that she would be safe.

She felt complete, as if she had found something she didn't even know she was missing. If she had been more learned in philosophy, perhaps Plato's theories about soul mates would have come to her mind. The theories that claimed that people are born as one being and cut in half, and the whole search for love is nothing more than an attempt to search for the other half that was stolen from you in order to be whole again. That was exactly how she felt, whole not only in the physical sense but also spiritual. Or maybe she wouldn't have thought about any of that, for she only had room to think about Giorno.

Giorno kept touching her affectionately. She had never imagined she could feel so loved, as if she was going to explode from all the adoration and pleasure at the same time. She felt like she was going to overflow just like the water in the bathtub, and when she finally did, her scream must have been heard throughout the entire palazzo.

Jolyne slept more soundly that night than she had thought she would, for if Giorno hadn't insisted, she wouldn't have even dried her hair. She was able to rest in her husband's welcoming arms for the second night in a row.

Sun, soil, humidity and ash were the smells of Giorno's childhood. He didn't need to see to know where he was—the land that had welcomed him even though it had shown him no mercy since he was a child.

A shiver ran through him. Feeling fear was not something strange to him; he had survived thanks to it. That awareness had taught him to deal with his fear and to hide it from others. Before him, who had become almost all-powerful, was his fear. Then the trepidation left him, only to be replaced with anxiety. It was almost nostalgic, the helplessness and noticing how that heat around him was not from the sun but fire. He had felt something similar the first time he saw Mt. Vesuvius roar and cause a small earthquake. Every time the city moved a little, he thought that the volcano was going to bury them all the way it did Pompeii. The noise emitted could only be nature, and he realize it was not him but the ground that was shaking. There were human cries, then screams that didn't sound human. The fire consumed everything in seconds.

Giorno woke up drenched in a cold sweat. Finding himself within the familiar walls of his bedroom, his rapidly beating heart began to calm down. The destruction of Naples was a recurring nightmare, one of many in his repertoire, unfortunately. He felt something shift beside him and turned to see eyes glowing in the darkness as they blinked at him.

"Everything okay?" Jolyne asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

"Just a nightmare, mia bella," he assured her. "It's nothing out of the ordinary. I'll be back asleep in no time. You should too. Dormi bene e se sono fortunato ti sognerò."

For the moment, the real world was much kinder than the dreamland as his wife slept in his arms. He held her tighter as if to protect her from all harm, and as he stroked her hair, he gradually fell asleep too.

Several hours passed before he woke up again. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of Jolyne staring at him distractedly while playing with his golden hair.

"Hey Punzie, welcome to the realm of the awakened. I didn't wake you up again, did I? It's disgustingly early."

Giorno glanced toward the window and saw that the sun had just newly risen.

"The old hag was actually right. Sun salutation isn't just a bunch of yoga poses for Hamon training." Jolyne smiled at him calmly, remaining in the same spot. "But I don't mind waking up so soon like this if it's beside you. You know how f*cking handsome you are?"

Giorno felt his ears heat up. "That's especially flattering when coming from you." He sat up slightly and took the hand she had been stroking his hair with to kiss her with tenderness and a touch of mischief. "Perché tu, luce della mia vita, sei così bella che nemmeno I grandi maestri saprebbero cogliere la tua bellezza."

"Please, no Italian at this hour. We have a long day ahead of us." When he sat up, she started to move her butt backward. "No, really. Don't use that sexy attack on me. Otherwise, we won't be able to leave the bed at all. We can't..."

"È la minaccia più allettante che mi sia mai stata fatta." Little by little, he cornered her against the headboard until she was under him, at his mercy.

As he held her blushing figure, he noticed something that made him alert. Her flow of life had been a constant for as long as he'd known her, but now, something seemed different. He felt as if there was a small deviation in the imprint of energy, almost as if it belonged to another being with an essence similar to his own... A faint suspicion bloomed in his heart.

"Giorno?" Jolyne said, seeing him paralyzed. "What's wrong?"

Giorno shook his head before smiling at her. It was impossible; they had used preventives each time they had done it.Finding her so beautifully blushing underneath him, waiting, he temporarily shoved his doubt to the back of his head and dropped a kiss on her neck.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. The couple ignored it, too focused on each other, but it came again a moment later, this time louder.

Giorno threw an irritated glance in the direction of the door, thinking about sending whoever it was to join Diavolo. "Leave! We're busy at the moment."

"Boss, it's me," came Bruno's serious voice from the other side of the door. "I have urgent news."

The couple exchanged glances, then Giorno sighed and climbed off the bed as Jolyne lifted the sheets to cover herself up.

Even before Giorno opened the door, he had a bad feeling, but he wasn't prepared for Bruno to say, "The zombies have escaped the basem*nt in Naples and are on the loose."

It had only taken a few minutes for what happened in Naples to be reported to Venice. The recounts were horrific. The couple of dozen zombies did not kill cleanly; they ripped, bit, and tore. They did not feel any pain, nor did they react to gunfire, so only high-caliber ammunition stood a chance against them. Unfortunately, the men guarding the zombies had become lax after so many years with no trouble, so they did not always carry those on them. Between the fallen and the downed zombies, everything was a Dantesque spectacle of blood and guts.

After finishing talking to his Naples teams, Giorno ended the call and stared out of the private jet's window at the bright blue sky. It would take about an hour to arrive in the Naples airport at the current speed. How many more people would be killed or injured by then?

"Dammit!" Giorno slammed the side of his fist against the window.

Even if he were willfully naive, he wouldn't believe that the zombies had just happened to escape suddenly. He had carefully chosen where to lock them up; in a prison building basem*nt far from the center of Naples and in the middle of some vineyards, heavily guarded. The whole place was too tightly closed off and the zombies were fed sufficiently but not so much that they had the extra fuel to bust out on their own, spilling the blood of his men along the way. All evidence indicated that the accident was anything but an accident.

As for who could be behind it, it was too early to tell. A certain priest and two vampires floated at the top of his suspect list, but Giorno also had many other enemies, too many to name.

Even if it turned out to be someone else's doing, Giorno felt that the blood would still be on his own record, as the whole tragedy could have been easily avoidable if he had steeled his heart and ended those undead people a long time ago. His guilt toward the lives he had personally given back had clouded his judgment.

Giorno loosened his fist and felt the cold metal of his gun on his rib. Did the perpetrator think they could bother him and get away with it? Well, they were going to find out that a Cosa Nostra boss didn't have time for Stand duels.

When the plane landed on the private runway, Giorno adjusted his tie. It was time to get to work.

In the middle of the sea a few hours' journey away, Jotaro Kujo was traveling with a cargo that he never imagined he would be taking with him. Keeping it out of Enrico Pucci's hands was imperative. Jotaro still didn't know if it would be something to destroy or to protect, but from all of Lisa Lisa's talks about witches, he supposed it could be useful.

He hoped that everything would work out and that his life would return to normal afterward, or at least as much normalcy as he could afford. Maybe he would get a second chance.

Although he dared to dream of a future with his ex-wife, he wasn't able to tell her. He was too afraid to venture to promise anything, only to have life steal him away again. He was afraid, too, that after telling her that he had never stopped loving her all those years, he would find that she had long moved on and was now just having a little fun with him. But if he had learned anything since he was a child, it was that while fate could steal everything from one moment to the next, he should fight for what he loved.

Meanwhile, back in Venice, Marena stepped out of the gynecologist's office, still absorbing the piece of news she'd just received. It all seemed so unreal, and she had to double-check the papers to make sure there was no mistake. The confirmation of her pregnancy left her trembling with a mixture of joy and fear that reminded her of the previous time but for completely different reasons.

While Marena Regio was too young and immature, Marena Kujo felt that with a daughter on the verge of turning twenty, she was too old to be a mother again. She didn't know how she would manage parenthood at that point in her life. Nevertheless, a strange joy came over her at the thought of having another little girl or a boy. Hopefully, the baby would look a bit more like her this time, though she wouldn't mind if he or she inherited their father's beauty instead...

She was so engrossed in her own bubble, by the time noticed she was being followed, it was already too late. Before Marena could scream, she was hooded and dragged away.

Chapter 56: Mutter

Chapter Text

Humidity and heat, the same smells as in the dream. Had Giorno been a more superstitious man than he already was, he would have thought it had been some sort of premonitory dream. For a person with powers beyond all human nature, he was rather reluctant to believe in such things as signs, premonitions or fortune tellers. Logic told him that if any of those existed, he would surely find them attacking him, so if they hadn't attacked him using clairvoyance so far, it was because they didn't exist.

His men were waiting for him outside with two SUV cars, one for security and the other one to take him, with the current Napolese capo not long in coming to kiss his ring. Unlike Polpo, his predecessor, this man was very active in his team's missions. He saw Giorno as a savior, as if he didn't know it was partly all the don's fault. But he had kissed the ring and knew what Giorno was capable of, so he would respect his boss with that respect born of fear.

"Signore Giovanna, I know this is not the right time, but I would like to inform you informally that the christening of my second son will be in a few weeks," the Napoli capo told him from the driver's seat. "You don't have to come, of course, but we would be honored by your presence."

Giorno wasn't in the mood for conversation. However, the capo's words stirred up the memory of what he had sensed in Jolyne that morning.

"What's it like?" Giorno asked. "I mean having children with this job."

"Difficult," replied the man, happy that for once the Don was talking to him about something other than work. "I think being a good father in general is a difficult thing, and of course, this job makes everything even more difficult and makes you worry more, but.... Every time I see my children and my Martia, I think it's worth it—all the work, all the worries, because of how much I love my family. I hope the Don can have a family as happy as mine someday."

Giorno thought of that energy he had been trying so hard to deny. He had had Golden Experience for too many years to think he wasn't accurate and had made a wrong reading. There was a simple explanation for what he had sensed in Jolyne. She was with child. And he was going to be a father.

If Jolyne wanted it to be.

"Don, we've arrived," said the Capo of Naples, pulling him out of his thoughts. Giorno nodded and came out before they opened the door.

His men had fenced off the perimeter. They didn't have too much news of what was going on inside, but apparently, the zombies hadn't tried to leave the house yet.

Giorno was not dressed in the best way for such a mission. When he had to get his hands dirty in a practical way, he usually preferred more comfortable clothes, but that day, he had automatically dressed in the suit he had pre-selected from the day before. The blood red suit made his golden hair stand out even more. It looked very out of place in the vineyards, and even more so surrounded by men in tactical gear.

"There is no need for anyone to accompany me," Giorno said to his men. "I just want you to open the door for me."

The men glanced briefly at each other, but no one disobeyed. The door to the house was not far, so it would be a quick ride in the car. However, Giorno felt that getting a breath of fresh air before entering the house was going to do him good. He had hesitated about how to proceed with these creatures for too long, but he had to start cleaning up his affairs if, by the slightest chance, he was going to have a child. The stories told that when one of the greatest dons in living memory, before Diavolo's time, had had his first child, a great cleansing of lesser famiglie had been undertaken. The child had been born with a peace brought by the blood. Giorno had always found that tremendously logical while at the same time quite practical.

One of the men in tactical gear looked at him dubiously before opening the door for him. The man was a Stand user, for when Requiem manifested before him, his expression became more determined and he let Giorno pass.

The first few steps seemed like the same old house, the one he had been to so many times before. It wasn't long before he heard those distant shrieks from throats that couldn't remember how to speak. He sighed heavily, but before he could reach them, he found a man on the floor. The man was missing a good chunk of his leg, from which he was bleeding to death. Nothing Golden Experience couldn't take care of. Giorno pressed his hand against the man's mouth so that his screams would not attract attention while he healed him. The man blinked in terror amidst the pain, but he recognized his don and remained courageously silent. Giorno gave him a silent nod as he led him out of danger and asked him in almost a whisper if he knew of any more survivors.

“I don't know Don, but I don't think so," the man said in a whisper.

He lost consciousness and Giorno resigned himself to staining his suit as he lifted the man off the ground, undoing the path to leave him in front of some armed men who were waiting for him with their nerves on edge.

“The following ones will surely be much worse, signore. Perhaps it will be an unpleasant spectacle," one of his men tried to convince him.

Giorno thanked him but refused help. A horrible spectacle was expected. It could not be more horrible than seeing the inside of his own skin. By the time Giorno came of age, he had already fulfilled his quota of horrible things to see. Later, he even witnessed how the beasts he was now going to take the life out of were fed.

He told himself he was just cleaning up the trash as he went through the house again. The next victim he found was in much worse shape and undoubtedly dead. He was too disfigured for Giorno to be sure of his identity, but he suspected who he was. Giorno had played cards with him once. He didn't look like a bad man, yet he had died a horrible death, like so many others in that trade.

Giorno was too used to sights like the body in front of him. That kind of sight had to go, for his family. Then he had to pause as this thought was replaced by horror at the realization that he had gotten to a point where this didn't affect him at all.

If his Stand had a wider scope, he wouldn't have to see the zombie, though he knew his tendencies to find himself guilty of everything would make him look at the horror he had once again caused. But he had to seek the zombies out anyway and, one by one, extract the life or whatever it was that animated them from their dead eyes and watch them fall.

For something he had been so afraid to do, he didn't care when they fell. They were like a ghoulish parody of a human being. But it was nothing next to what was waiting for him. He sighed heavily as the last one fell, right on top of him; no doubt it had stained his suit. He took off his jacket and tie and walked back out to where his company was waiting for him. Like the other time, they seemed very nervous when he opened up. It was too obvious they were expecting a bunch of zombies, not their boss with his shirt rolled up like it was a vacation day. He must have looked completely unchanged, and that made those who were afraid of him respect him even more. Respect and fear so that they would not approach his family.

But there was someone who was wholly unafraid of him, Giorno thought as he walked back to the car that would take him to his private villa to change and wait while they prepared the plane. His father-in-law was not going to be at all happy that his precious daughter was carrying a child of DIO's blood.

For a moment, some part of Giorno deep down understood his father and his hatred for that family. Jotaro Kujo would definitely get in the way. He would be worse than Pucci, as he was when Giorno was just a teenager. The man would surely convince Jolyne to take one of those pills so that her child wouldn't be born, not because she wasn't ready, but because he would consider Giorno's offspring a way of dirtying her. Jolyne didn't know yet, but when she did, she would be aware of what she had done, how she had soiled herself with a monster. And she would leave, as everyone else had, as Giorno's mother had done after giving birth to a monster.

'Unless you lock her away.'

How often he had dreamed as a boy of locking his mother away every time she left him and making her love him. This would be for Jolyne's own sake. To protect her from his brothers, to protect her from her father's influence—

Giorno finally left the property, grateful for the fresh air after being in that place full of death. He told his men very briefly, almost automatically, that he had already finished with the zombies and left in the same way, walking back to the car.

He could never lock Jolyne away. It didn't work that way. He'd rather have her walk away from him than forcibly tied up. Her hating him would be something he couldn't bear. Jolyne wasn't some idiot who didn't know what she was getting into when she started dating him. Cazzo, she'd even seen him drink blood. What could Jotaro tell his daughter that she didn't already know even better than he did? And even though the idea of her leaving was unthinkable, Giorno couldn't bear to turn the love of his life into a perverted version of a classic mob marriage.

It would be best to talk to her, let Jolyne be the one to decide whether or not she wanted children with him. He recalled her shocked expression during the wedding dinner at the idea of getting pregnant. He hadn't expected to have children on that exact day either, but he had changed his mind. He only hoped that the decision she made would be the best for both of them in the future.

Jolyne was sure that almost the entire staff of the palazzo knew that she and Giorno were together. There was a bit more respect in everyone's attitude when they saw her. Even Sheila, who still gave her dirty looks, squared her shoulders respectfully as she passed by. Jolyne felt like telling everyone to relax a little, that she was still the same person.

She desperately needed a bit of normalcy, to relax before talking to her mother and telling her that she had gotten married. Which was a little harder than she thought upon discovering that Marena had slipped away again from her bodyguards that morning. It was already the third time that month.

"I think it's crystal clear that you're a super capable fighter," Trish said on the other side of the screen to Jolyne, who was occupying Giorno's office for that video call. "But sometimes, something extra comes in handy and I think you should have it on you. Is Sheila nearby? Wait, what am I asking? She's probably on the other side of the door. Send her in."

Jolyne didn't even have to order it. It was obvious that the bodyguard had had her ear to the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Signora Una," Sheila greeted, entering the office. Jolyne had to swallow a bitter laugh. It was obvious that that woman respected everyone but her. "You were calling me?"

"Hello, Sheila. Yes, I want you to give Jolyne a gun. Something discreet but effective. Seeing how the situation is, perhaps one of the STI Combat Master, the 9mm kind, would be most appropriate."

"But Trish, I don't know how to handle a firearm," Jolyne said. "Until I was in prison, I never even held one in my hand… Hold on, this is a stereotype of yours about Americans and guns, isn't it?"

"Maybe..." Trish replied. "But Ermes and Emporio know how to use one, and Mr. Quiet too." As she said this, F.F. made finger guns with a funny sound.

"What can I say? I grew up in a bad neighborhood," Ermes replied from next to Trish. "But come to think of it, you really should take a couple of classes to handle one of those. Not that I don't think you'd be able to beat someone with a slap, but Father Pucci usually carries a pistol."

"A priest with a gun," Sheila interjected for the first time. "I mean, we have a few in the Famiglia, yet it still strikes me as the most American thing I can imagine." She cleared her throat. "But it's a good suggestion. She should have one. Though until the Don returns, given the alert level, it would be best if she didn't go out alone or outright avoid going out as much as possible."

"Look at it as a sort of vacation," Ermes suggested to Jolyne. "You're in a palazzo in Venice, which, for being cooped up, is much better than Green Dolphin."

Jolyne grunted. It was no real contest.

"Have you been able to contact your mother yet?"

Jolyne shook her head. It had her a little worried, though her last call attempt was only 10 minutes ago. Sometimes, Marena just didn't look at her cell phone. Still, the thought that something had happened to her mom kept occurring to Jolyne, who had to remind herself that nothing had happened before in any of the times her mom had run away. Apparently, she was even better at sneaking out than Jolyne was.

"Sorellina?" Trish snapped Jolyne out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"She's probably freaking out about telling her mother that she got married," Abbacchio replied from behind them. "Your mother loves you. I doubt she's going to yell at you any more than I will for not inviting me. I mean, I wasn't going to go anyway, but just like Maleficent, it's the thought that counts."

Jolyne laughed a little, thinking about Abbacchio crashing her wedding while dressed as Maleficent. It would look good on him. The idea made her feel a little more relaxed. Surely, Abbacchio had told her it with that in mind, for among those who were calling, she was sure he was the only one who knew about the tragedy that had just broken out in Naples.

Her husband had gone to Naples to deal with the army of zombies he had created. Thinking about how she would have to explain all of this to her mom, maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal to also explain that Giorno was now her husband.

"I think I should go out and find my mom." Jolyne noticed Sheila's gaze locked on her. "I know what you said, but I didn't say anything about going by myself. I'll be taking some bodyguards. That would be fine, right?"

Sheila only nodded and left, mumbling something about going to get everything ready for the departure.

Jolyne said goodbye to the girls and Abbacchio and hung up the call. She hadn't even put the phone away when it started ringing again. Figuring it must be Trish again, who sometimes called back to give her last-minute ideas, Jolyne picked up the call without glancing at the caller’s number.

"Hello?"

"Giorno?" Jolyne moved the phone away from her ear in surprise and checked the screen. Indeed it was Giorno, calling from his own phone, not from Trish's.

For a moment, she worried about what receiving such a sudden call from him meant. He was supposed to be doing something super dangerous after all.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, bringing the phone back to her ear.

"I just finished with the most urgent matter, but there's still a lot left to do. I don't think I'll be back before tonight," he replied, making Jolyne's heart grow light with relief from the knowledge that he was not in any danger. "They've made a big mess, and now I have to take care of the families of those who couldn't escape in time."

"I know it must suck dealing with families, Punzie. Would you like me to join you in Naples? Not that I can do anything, but I could accompany you. I've never been to Naples beyond the outskirts waiting in the car and then at the villa, but—"

"Another day I would have told you yes, but as I said before, I'm coming back tonight. Thank you for the offer though, my love." He sounded tired, but in his tone, she could hear what a relief talking to her was.

"One more thing… There's something urgent I wanted to talk to you about, but I don't know how to tell you."

"With words," Jolyne said, sitting up straighter at the rare nervousness that slipped into the don's voice. "It doesn't matter, you can tell me anything. That's what marriage is supposed to be about."

"You're right. But first, I would advise you to be seated for this."

"Ok…?" Jolyne suddenly felt nervous herself about whatever secrets regarding the mafia or his family members he was going to share with her.

"Are you sitting down right now?"

"Yeah, I am. Now tell me."

"So, it's about this morning. When I woke up, I thought that I..." Giorno stopped, then corrected himself. "No, I didn't 'think', but rather, I noticed. That there was a second life energy in you."

He paused again. The silence on the other end was so long this time that Jolyne thought he wasn't going to say any more.

"Wait, second life energy… what? And something inside me?"

"Jolyne, I'm quite certain that you're pregnant. The birth control didn't work."

She stared at the wall in front of her, her fingers squeezing the phone tight.

"I know we said we'd wait, but—" Giorno cut himself off. "We'll do as you want. I'll support you in whatever you choose. No matter what you decide, I love you. Ti amo più della mia vita, non dimenticarlo."

“Anch'io ti amo. Torna sano e salvo.” Jolyne bade goodbye then dropped the call.

If she hadn't been sitting down, she would have fallen down right after hanging up. Jolyne took deep breaths to calm her racing heart, regulating the way her blood flowed. The artificial calm it gave her made her able to pretend that everything was fine and nothing was wrong as she left the room. While her pulse was steady, her mind still raced.

Only a few days ago, she was a blushing virgin, and now, her body was preparing to bring a new life into the world. Giorno had assured her they could do as she wanted, that he would support her. Well, the panic coursing through her veins told her she had to run to the nearest pharmacy right that instant. One morning-after pill would be enough.

"Sheila, or whoever, I'm going to change my clothes for the outing!"

Jolyne entered her old room, but instead of going to the wardrobe, she opened the window and stepped onto the ledge. Hopefully, the poor bodyguards wouldn't be fired for losing both her and her mom in one day. They probably wouldn't have even tried to stop her from going where she needed to, but Jolyne wanted to be alone for this.

Remembering to grab her purse at the last moment, she threw her entire left arm to the nearest house and swung toward it. Thanks to her Hamon, she barely touched the water without sinking, then jumped to the nearest rooftop. Once her feet touched the solid surface again, she raveled her arm back together. The whole maneuver took only a few seconds, and she hoped no one had seen her.

Luckily, it was delivery day and the boats carrying purchases to the palazzos kept passing by, so she only had to jump on one. The boatman, like all those who worked in rich people's areas, only nodded when she gave her made-up story for why she jumped on the boat. He would let the foreigner dressed in expensive clothes get off when they were in a more humble part of the city.

On the way there, the thoughts in Jolyne's brain ran amok. She was going to buy an abortifacient; that's what she had decided. And although she tried not to, she couldn't stop thinking about Giorno's voice when he revealed the news to her over the phone. From his tone, she could tell he wanted to have the baby. His desire was perfectly understandable. He had never had a family, with the closest thing to having one being the f*cking mafia. She knew he was all ready to start a family with her, and she wanted to have one with him too, but… She could not have a child at that time just for his sake, especially if she herself was not ready.

When the boat braked a little violently, Jolyne instinctively put her hands over her stomach. She didn't even notice she had done such a thing until she thanked the boatman for the trip and moved to get off.

'No, no, no. Stop it. You've already made your decision.'

In her eargerness to quickly accomplish what she'd set out to do, Jolyne sped up her pace, scanning the nearby buildings left and right. She still wasn't very familiar with the pharmaceutical companies in Italy, but she happened to recognize one before in that area during one of her many boat trips through the canals of Venice.

Finally, after a while, she spotted a huge familiar luminous green cross on a building. The sight didn't bring her the relief she was expecting, and she ended up slowing her steps down. There was a painful ache in her chest that couldn't possibly be fondness for the being that was gestating inside her, probably no bigger than a flea. She hadn't even known it for an hour, and most of that time had been spent running away to miscarry.

She took a deep breath before going inside, and when the pharmacist's face turned to her and asked what she wanted, she found her mouth automatically saying, "I'd like pregnancy vitamins, please."

Jolyne could feel an inner part of her die of disappointment. 'You aren't even able to do what you know is for the best, so what kind of mother are you going to be?' She was little more than a child and had no idea how to take care of anyone.

To that part, she wanted to defend herself. It wasn't her fault that the Joestars that married young all seemed to be fated to have children right away. She and Giorno were even careful with using protection, but the situation had still gotten out of their hands. And what would they do if the contraceptives failed again in the future? Whether it was births, deaths, or clashes, the history of their bloodline proved that they couldn't run away from what was written in their destiny.

That's what she told herself, yet when she searched inside herself for any trace of regret, she found none. No desire to take back her words and tell the pharmacist to bring out the other pill instead. No sorrow that the birth control pills had even failed in the first place.

Jolyne suddenly burst out laughing, startling the pharmacist whose back was turned toward the medicine shelves. She turned to look at Jolyne, who waved her off.

Destiny who? She would be lying to herself by acting like she cared about all that. The choices and actions of her ancestors never had any influence on her own decisions. She was not one to surrender to destiny; it was only ever been built around her own determination.

The truth was very simple: even if she herself knew that having the baby wasn't the smartest idea, she was going to have it anyway because, damn it, she wanted that little creature created from her and Giorno.

Something about the cool afternoon air that greeted Jolyne outside felt soothing when she exited the pharmacy, carrying the bag of purchases in her arms. Her breathing was even, her pulse was steady, and her thoughts were calm. But then she thought about how she was going to have to break this piece of news to her parents, on top of the one about her secret marriage, and the world was normal again.

Well, no matter how angry her parents were going to be, she knew she could count on them to come through and support her. Even if she struggled with parenting, her own mother could teach her. What the hell, she should worry instead that Marena would spoil her grandchild, along with all the other family members. Jolyne was not going to be alone anymore.

"sh*t, I better call Punzie."

Although he promised to come home by that night, news such as this shouldn't wait. The matter must be weighing on his mind like a ten ton bloody phantom, which was the last thing he needed when having other important things that also vied for his attention.

With some regret, Jolyne realized that in her haste, she had forgotten to bring her phone with her. It had been almost an hour since she escaped from her room, so the house staff had to have noticed her disappearance by now. She wasn't looking forward to dealing with a raging Sheila when she went back. But maybe if she got lucky, her mom would have returned by then too.

Jolyne turned, intending to find another boat, only to slam into someone's chest. Two of the smaller containers slipped out of the mouth of her bag and tumbled toward the ground. She reached out her free hand and quickly grabbed one, while another hand snatched up the other in mid-air.

"Oh, thank you!" Jolyne said as she turned to face the helpful stranger. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where—"

The words died in her throat. The man standing before her wore a black cassock, but the sharp smile on his face glinted with intentions less than holy.

"Jolyne Kujo, it seems gravity has attracted us again," said Father Pucci.

Chapter 57: The Loneliest

Chapter Text

There was said to be a gas explosion in Venice that afternoon, a tragic accident that left many dead or injured. It was all captured on police security cameras. Any Stand user flipping through the footage would be able to see the blue stand that had briefly appeared on the street before it happened. It made the identity of its user even more obvious, if her peculiar hairstyle did not already give her away.

Giorno felt that something was off when he noticed his men whispering and sneaking scared glances in his direction on the plane ride back. It wasn't unusual for someone like him to receive these kinds of looks, but something felt different this time. When he suddenly broke out into cold sweat for no reason, he made the impromptu decision to call Jolyne and hear her voice, to assure himself that everything was okay at home. However, when the line connected and the receiver answered, it wasn't Jolyne's voice he heard on the other end.

Bruno was waiting for him at the airport when the plane landed that evening. Giorno, accompanied by his men, met him at the runway. Ever since the don's call ended, his men seemed terrified to look at his expression. It was as if the desire to kill was so great in him that it was palpable in the atmosphere, almost suffocating.

As he moved forward, everyone moved out of his way, until he reached Bruno. Giorno's right-hand man looked him in the eyes; there was no pity for him or any kind of attempt at consolation. Long ago, Bucciarati had lost the love of his life without even having time to mourn him as he attempted to lead everyone to safety. And with that realization, Bruno embraced Giorno, who stood motionless. The Don's men looked away respectfully to allow him to weep. There was no bodyguard in the area who had not understood the love Don Giovanna had for the lovely lady who always greeted them and who lit up the palazzo with her presence.

He was calm as he released himself from Bruno's embrace and said, "Where is she?"

"They're searching for her, but at the moment, the whole site is... You don't want to see it."

Giorno barked out a mirthless laugh. "If I'd know that bringing her into my life would end up killing her, I would have happily helped from a distance without staining her."

Bruno looked at him with sad eyes. "All hope isn't lost yet. The camera caught her going in before the explosion, but she could have exited through another door. She is a very resourceful girl."

"Hope kills," Giorno replied in the most cutting tone he had ever used to the man who was like his first family. Deep down, they both knew that if Jolyne had survived, she would not choose to remain still and silent but have found a way to return to them already.

Giorno faced forward, unable to bear anyone's sympathy. He was undeserving of it, being the one who had frightened her by talking about the child they were expecting and caused her to run away in horror at the thought of being the mother of a monster's child. Tears were absolutely useless.

Bruno looked at him from milestone to milestone. "We can't rule out that the gas explosion wasn't really an accident. Abbacchio will be here in a couple of hours to check the whole area. If you'll allow me, I will lead the investigation."

Giorno was silent, but Bruno took that as a sign that he approved. He dropped the don off at the palazzo before heading to the accident site. Giorno found himself suddenly despising the house he had always considered a place to show status and which Jolyne had recently made her home.

When the don entered, he saw that all the bodyguards were lined up in the main hall, waiting for him. Sheila, who had been the one to pick up his call, stood at the front, her head hanging low.

"Where is she, Sheila?" Giorno said in a low voice.

"Don," she said, not looking him in the eye. "Ms. Kujo—"

"That's Mrs. Giovanna to you. She was the mistress of this house."

Sheila looked as if she had been slapped. She tried again, reiterating what she had already explained over the phone.

Giorno scanned the bodyguards' faces. Just like Sheila, their heads were bowed low, awaiting their punishment. They were some of his best subordinates, and he had hand-picked them for this job himself, not wanting to hold back when it came to the safety of his beloved, his new family. It wasn't their fault that Jolyne herself had escaped from them.

"I'm assigning you a new mission," Giorno said, addressing all of them. "Under Bucciarati's orders, you will search for any clues about the gas explosion. You are to also bring Marena Regio back safe and sound as you were unable to do with her daughter."

Without giving any of them another look, he walked into his office and shut the door.

In the privacy of his office, Giorno sat in his chair. According to Sheila, this was where Jolyne was last seen, where she had chatted with her friends. He would have liked for some of her scent to linger, but they had cleaned up the place when she left. Now it was just the same old office, empty and functional, nothing more.

There was something completely unacceptable about the idea of her being gone. She was strong and vibrant, the sun to his earth. Only a few days ago, the two of them exchanged marriage vows and Giorno's heart had come to life. Not touching family that wasn't in the business was one of the tenets in his world. What kind of monster would break a sacred truce like that? He had been robbed of the person who made him feel alive for the first time in... He couldn't remember the last time he felt worthy of being called a human being. She was the air he breathed. And they had simply murdered her, as if her life didn't matter, as if she wasn't more valuable than the whole world to him.

Scanning his desk, he spotted something in the corner. It was Jolyne's cell phone. He picked it up, feeling his stomach roll. A tap on the screen showed the couple of missed calls from Sheila. He furrowed his brows. Taking out his own cell phone from his pocket, he checked his call history and saw that he had finished his call with Jolyne at 1:05PM, just minutes before she made her escape and before Sheila called her.

His chest burned as if his heart had been ripped out. What he had guessed was proven to be true. The thought of having his child had terrified her out of her mind, and she had wanted to get away from everything for a while; from him, his home, his people. He could only imagine the state her mind would have been in as she wandered on the Venice streets alone, her vigilance slipping in the moment of vulnerability. The chance was ripe for the killers.

He could not blame anyone else. In a way, he had killed her himself.

Giorno covered his mouth with his fist. Tears were useless, and he was even more so. He had thought many times about ending his life before, but never as intensely as at that moment.

Later, when Sheila knocked on his office door and entered, she found him sitting still with his head in his hands. He looked disheveled, with his golden hair pointing in different directions, and his face was paler than usual. When he lifted his head, she couldn't help but notice that his lower lip had been chewed raw.

"Don," she said in a soft tone. "They found a body, but..."

She didn't have time to finish what she was saying, as Giorno was already standing up and asking where it was.

On their way to the basem*nt, Giorno imagined a hundred gory scenarios. If the body truly was hers, he could bring her back. He had defied death for his loved ones before. Three of his men were proof that he was capable of performing such a miracle. If there were parts missing, he could ask Josuke to bring them back. She may not be able to live a full and normal existence, but he could at least extend her life. He refused to think that there was nothing he could do. No, Requiem had to be of some use to him.

Taking a deep breath, he approached where the body was laid out. It was in very bad shape. Having spent enough time in the water, the woman had the ravages of the sea on her. Still, the resemblance was undeniable. She was so much like Jolyne, with similar features and having the same knife and butterfly tattoo. Her bleached hair had a pale trace of cheap green dye that had been almost washed out by the sea, nothing like the dye he had sent Jolyne, knowing that her training included swimming in the sea. She was a cheap copy of Jolyne in every way. He felt a tightness in his chest seeing the scars of old and badly-healed wounds that covered her skin.

"We are almost certain that she was a prostitute operating under Passione. Her roommate gave notice that she disappeared a few weeks ago," Bucciarati told him, entering the room. "I called the woman, and she told me that since her roommate, Alda, met an unknown man, her physical appearance began to drastically change."

"Could she have been set up to be some sort of bait for you, Don?" Sheila suggested.

"If she was, it wouldn't make sense to have killed her off so soon. Although, with how unstable Donatello is, who knows," Giorno replied. "I don't think it was for anything other than to entertain himself since he couldn't have the real one."

He knew without a shred of doubt that the poor girl had died at the hands of his brother. The deep bite marks on her skin that would never have the chance to heal told him as much. Rather than feeling relieved, he felt his blood freeze again when taking in the girl's similarness. If Donatello would go this far for his crazed obsession, who was to say that he wouldn't think that if Jolyne wasn't his, she couldn't be anyone's?

Maybe this was all his brother's idea of a sick, cruel prank, in which Donatello drained his wife dry after capturing her and then altered her appearance with a Stand before dumping her body in the sea for his men to find so that a clueless Giorno would end up not recognizing her and discarding her, only for Donatello to reveal himself laughing and boasting the truth to his face, taking satisfaction in Giorno's meltdown.

The more Giorno thought about it, the more scarily plausible it became. The state of decomposition indicated that this woman had been dead for far much longer than a day, but with Stand powers at play, anything was possible. And what if it was also the exsanguination that made her look more brittle? He couldn't be sure since he had never drained anyone completely before, but if he could test the theory on a person— No, his thoughts weren't making sense anymore.

"Have her autopsied and buried properly. If she has loved ones, let them be compensated."

He had seen a lot of corpses in his life, but he still mumbled an apology between his teeth. He was sure it wasn't just the modifications, but that this girl had actually looked like Jolyne and couldn't have been much older. Here was another life he hadn't been able to save. What good was his dream if there were still women roaming the streets selling their body to make a living? He had saved the children, yes, but it was only postponing a sentence that would come sooner rather than later.

Guilt echoed in a deep emptiness. He remembered how Bruno told him what the world was like before he brought him back, a corpse that only sought revenge he wasn't capable of relishing. It was as if the young capo's fate was only a warning of what he was to become himself.

Giorno was standing by his desk, staring at the one photograph of the wedding that had arrived that morning and had been left with all the mail on his desk when his office door burst open. He barely had time to turn around before he was punched in the face so hard that the force sent him falling back into his desk. The piles of papers on the desk toppled and fluttered onto the floor. The physical pain roused him from his numbness, and he had to use his will to restrain his Stand from punching back.

Jotaro Kujo grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in real close.

"You promised me you would take care of them," Jotaro spat, spittle flying everywhere. "I trusted you, and I come back to find that my daughter might be dead and my ex-wife is missing. I should kill you right here."

"Do it," Giorno told Jotaro fiercely. "Don't give me empty threats. Kill me." He didn't realize that his tone was almost pleading.

Jotaro stared at him from beneath his hat, and amidst the raging sea of pain and anger, he realized something. He wasn't the only one who felt like he was dying inside.

"You love her, don't you?" Jotaro asked, but he didn't even wait for an answer. It was obvious. He thought about hitting Giorno again but then abruptly let him go. "I'm not going to kill you. If she really is dead, your punishment will be to live on while she's safe and beyond reach. Seek revenge, or f*ck off. I don't care. I'm going to search for both her and Marena now. I'll personally take charge as I should have done from the beginning."

Jotaro walked out the door, and Giorno was left alone again. He picked up the wedding photo that had fallen to the floor and wiped off the dust. Seeing their smiling faces, he felt himself being stabbed again. It might be better to take it down, but he wanted to remember the reason why he was going to do everything he was planning.

The culprits would pay. If he had to ask favors from all the famiglias of Italy and the crime syndicates of all of Europe and Africa, he would do it. He was not going to leave the killers a quiet place on the face of the earth nor in hell. Maybe he would make the world burn with them.

The phone rang, but he paid no attention to it, lost in thinking about how he could have the Austrian underworld shut down. Ruska Roma was going to have a great time if he told them that the one he wanted to bring in was his own brother. The Belorussians took betrayal between family members very seriously.

"Don," he heard Sheila say from the doorway. "It's consegliere Abbacchio."

Giorno realized the phone had stopped ringing at some point; Abbacchio must have called Sheila instead to try to reach him. As Giorno was reaching for his phone, it was already ringing again.

"Giovana, get off your ass and come to the accident site," Abbacchio said before hanging up.

Giorno closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired. He didn't think he had the strength to see Jolyne die. He didn't think he ever would. But if he wanted revenge, he needed to know exactly who had done it.

The boat ride to the place was slow even though the traffic had been opened for him. It was a strange feeling; the trip was taking forever, but at the same time, he didn't want to get there, and he felt that everything was moving too fast. Bruno was waiting for him outside the police cordon. His presence was assuring; Giorno felt like if it wasn't for his Stand, he would have fallen hours ago. He still had some newly forming bruises from Jotaro's punch and slamming into the table. These were the ones Golden Experience Requiem hadn't managed to get to in time before Giorno, lost in the pain, noticed and stopped him from healing what Giorno owed.

The explosion had turned what had been a coffee shop into the skeleton of a burned-out building with part of the floor submerged in water. The surrounding area had also been affected; there was broken glass everywhere. The injured had already been evacuated, along with the dead. Perhaps one of the burned corpses was her, but they would have to wait a few hours to find out.

Despite throwing Giorno worried looks, Bruno didn't make any comment. "We've questioned the local business people and even showed them a photo of her. Except for the boatman who dropped her off here, no one else seemed to have come in contact with her."

No one that was left alive anyway, is what he didn't say.

They bypassed the yellow tape and entered the site. For someone who had spent a good part of his life wishing no one would notice him, Leone Abbacchio always stood out. Giorno had learned long ago that it was because he was uncomfortable with the demons inside him, but not with the way he looked. When Giorno was younger, before he was brought back to what he could call life, he sometimes had nightmares of Abbacchio as the stern angel who came to dispense justice. Seeing that guy amidst the rubble reminded Giorno of those dreams.

"Are you sure you want to be here while I replay it?" Abbacchio asked without looking at him. "f*ck, I don't want to be the one responsible for another trauma. Even I don't want to watch. But I guess you would know what's best for you."

Giorno felt like laughing bitterly; in fact, he didn't know what was good for him. But he remained unperturbed as the purple Stand manifested and took the form of Jolyne at 2 PM, shortly before the accident. Moody Blues' projection was so realistic, Giorno wanted to reach out to touch her face.

The memory replayed from right when Jolyne stepped off the boat. She looked right and left on the street, seeming to be searching for something. The three of them followed her to the entrance of a pharmacy.

"How odd," Bruno said with a frown. "The pharmacist I spoke to, a kind-looking old woman named Ms. Ricotta, said she didn't recognize her when we showed her the photo."

He looked to Giorno, and a shared understanding passed between them. Giorno nodded at him, giving permission. Bruno then immediately turned back to go search for the pharmacist, who would have gone home already. If she had something to do with the accident at all, they couldn't let her get away.

Giorno turned back to look at Jolyne, who was hesitating before the door. Seemingly unconsciously, she touched her own stomach, her face scrunched up into a frown. And at once, he realized why she had come to this place.

He could think of only one possibility. Of course, all along, she had escaped from the palazzo with the intention of buying an abortion pill. Within minutes of the end of their call, she had already decided that she couldn't wait to free herself from the contamination inside her that was his child.

He didn't even realize he was trembling until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Giorno looked up and met Abbacchio's gaze.

"Do you want to watch this alone?" he asked Giorno quietly. The projection of Jolyne was still stuck standing before the door; Moody Blues had been commanded to pause the replay.

Giorno shook his head, then changed his mind and nodded. If she was here because of what he suspected, then it was only fair that he solely bore the burden of watching what happened next.

"I'll wait out here then," Abbacchio said, crossing his arms. The part of Giorno that still feared the man's judgement even now felt relief.

Jolyne finally entered the pharmacy, and Giorno braced himself as he followed her inside. He saw her hesitate for a few moments before she said to the pharmacist, in a voice he long anticipated, words that he never would have expected.

"I'd like pregnancy vitamins, please."

Giorno sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn't stop looking at his wife's face, not allowing himself to miss any detail from her expression, any emotion. When she burst out laughing, he suddenly realized that he couldn't read her at all. All his years of analyzing people, friends and enemies alike, didn't help him figure out what she was thinking in that moment. But as Jolyne walked out of the pharmacy, he saw that she was smiling.

His lips curved upward a bit, smiling back at her while fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. It may possibly be the last time he would see her smile, yet his vision was blurry. Useless tears.

Wiping his eyes, Giorno quickly followed after her. She had paused some steps away outside, and he heard her mutter a curse and say his nickname along with other illegible words. He moved closer, wanting to keep her face in sight, and stopped right in front of her as she rummaged in her purse for something. Another curse, then a sigh.

She suddenly turned and seemed to collide with an invisible wall. A couple of the contents of her bag spilled out. Even though it was a replay of the past and his efforts were pointless, Giorno couldn't help but reach out to grab one of the items.

"Oh, thank you!" Jolyne said, lifting her face to look at him. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where—"

She stopped. Registering the look of shock on her face, for a second, Giorno thought that she, a projection from Moody Blues, could see him. His heart beat fast, daring to hope for a miracle. But then her expression became guarded, twisting with anger.

She attacked an enemy Moody Blues didn't identify. "Pucci!"

A cold grin spread across Giorno's face upon hearing that name. Sensing a presence behind him, he turned and saw that Abbacchio had joined him.

The fight didn't last long. Jolyne stopped dead in her tracks at something Father Pucci said.

"Tell me where my mom is," she said in a threatening manner. They watched as Jolyne's expression tightened at the priest's response.

"Ok. I'll go with you, but..." She looked in the direction of the coffee shop that was now ruin. "First, I really have to pee. It's an emergency… What? You don't believe me? But I swear on the name of Jesus and Mary and all that is holy."

Pucci must not have been amused by that.

"If I don't go, I'll pee on the way… No, I'm dead serious. Please, I don't want it to be my second time doing in front of a guy. Do you want to risk it?"

Apparently, Pucci didn't, because Jolyne began heading towards the ruins of the coffee shop, muttering a "f*ck, f*ck". Before entering the bathroom, Jolyne's projection reluctantly handed over her purse to the empty air where Pucci should have been standing; the priest was too cautious. When Giorno and Abbacchio followed her in, they found her circling around a couple of times in frustration.

"sh*t, this must be the only free bathroom in Italy with no one else around." She looked around a couple more times, then whispered in the center of the room, "Hey, Abbacchio."

The two men exchanged glances then moved a little closer, with Abbacchio stopping right in front of her. "Abbacchio, if you've been sent as I expect, listen carefully. I'm going to leave with Pucci because he has my mom. I'll try to leave a trail through the channels with my Stand… f*ck, that's probably going to hurt. But maybe not as much as seeing Donatello again. Yeah, you heard right. Apparently, Father Pucci wants me to help him kill Donatello because he's out of control or something. I don't trust him, of course, but for now, I can only go with him... Tell Giorno not to worry, though he's probably going to anyway."

For the first time in hours, Giorno felt his heart beating again amidst the rubble of the site. This time he didn't stop himself from reaching over and touching the projection of Jolyne's face. Maybe it was his imagination, but Jolyne almost leaned into his touch.

The Stand version of his wife shouted "Coming!" and exited the bathroom. Instead of the front door, however, she used a hidden one in the restricted storage room, but not before throwing back one last anxious look. It was clear that this was the priest's idea; he had made preparations of his own while she was in the bathroom, looking for another exit. No doubt he'd used a disk to control an employee to remove him from the footage too.

The two men lost track when Jolyne got on a boat and, with her Stand, left something behind, a thin glowing blue trail of string. The string, however, jumped in the air and snapped, indicating that it had been caught in the explosion.

It didn't matter. They already had a lead.

The realization that the love of his life was, in fact, still alive came to Giorno so strongly that he felt as if all the weight in his heart was gone. He thought he was going to fall, but Abbacchio steadied him and then graced him with a smile. And doing as he had wanted to do with Bucciarati before, Giorno clung to Abbacchio while crying, no longer holding back. The relief that flowed from every pore of his skin ended up overflowing from his eyes.

"Non è morta, è viva, viva, Abbacchio," Giorno said between sobs, as if he had to say it out loud to make sure he wasn't imagining it. (She is not dead. She is alive, alive, Abbacchio.)

Now they only had to find her and help their enemy kill their enemy.

Chapter 58: You Don't Own Me

Chapter Text

"I think being able to read a person like a book and write things in it is a lot cooler than a quick fix and a quick hit," little Jolyne said. "He'd make a great villain."

The little girl didn't understand why her uncle Josuke started laughing out loud while Rohan gave him a dirty look.

"Go away and buy juice for your niece," Rohan told him, making him leave the house.

Jolyne had been a little scared of Rohan when she first met him, but now she was fine with him. He told the best stories and drew the best pictures, plus he had the prettiest clothes. When Jolyne was older she wanted to wear clothes with her belly in the air like Rohan did.

"Are you sure you'd rather stay with me than Koichi? He's better at it than I am with children."

"Sure," Jolyne told him with distaste. "I don't like Koichi. My father loves him more than me, not that he loves me much to begin with. I'm a wimpy little girl and get in the way of all his missions, so he takes Koichi along."

"Jolyne, that's not..." Rohan didn't know where to start. He wasn't good at dealing with children. "Your father got you a famous artist as a nanny to help you with the drawing just like you asked. Do you know what it takes to get someone like me to do you a favor? Of course, your father adores you. What a thing to have. Would I be here if it weren't for his threats?"

"I thought you liked me," the girl said sadly.

"I do, but I have an image to maintain. Besides, being your babysitter is fine, but he also left me with Josuke."

Jolyne laughed at that. Just as she had stopped being afraid of him, she had also stopped believing he hated Josuke.

"About you being a girl... Well, that's what you are, but we can do something to make you look like a badass. Let's get you a tattoo."

He disappeared into the next room for a while (he liked the girl, but not enough to let her paint in his studio) and returned with some washable markers. Rohan picked up one of the papers and, in a few seconds, sketched a butterfly with a sword that Jolyne loved.

"I have nothing against you changing your style, if that's what you feel like, but I don't think you need to be stronger or look tougher to be just as brave as your father and your uncle are," Rohan told her as he began to masterfully draw on her arm. "The bravest person I ever met was a fifteen-year-old girl who liked to wear pink and wear dresses."

"Was she strong?" Jolyne asked curiously.

"Physically? Not really. Reimi wasn't particularly strong in that sense, but in other ways, she was very strong. I don't think many people would have been able to do what she did for me when I was younger than you."

He paused for a moment. He was used to creating gruesome stories and wasn't accustomed to softening them for anyone, but this time he would.

"A very bad man came into the house when she was taking care of me. Like I said before, Reimi wasn't very strong, but she was very brave." As he said that, he began to draw the sword that would make up the butterfly's body. "She was very scared. And she told me, 'Roh, from now on, you're not Roh anymore, you're the Great Rohan Kishibe, and you can't be afraid. You have to hide and escape when that man leaves.' And that's what I did, while she protected me and didn't say anything, even when she threw me out of the window so I could escape while that man... was being bad to her. That's why I didn't complain about the pain from the fall. Because since that day, I've tried to live as the Great Rohan Kishibe, as Reimi asked me to.

"You don't need to be anyone else but Jolyne Kujo. You're already tough enough."

The adult smiled and was discreet enough to pretend not to notice the girl's teary eyes. And she was mature enough to pretend not to notice how the story affected the manga artist.

"Is it different to be the Great Rohan Kishibe than Jolyne Kujo?" she asked.

"Quite different," Rohan said. "You are already a little queen among kings, but I have to pretend to be one until I become one. Greatness and beauty come at a cost, little one."

"I don't think beauty is something you have to pretend, though."

Both of them turned their heads towards the door and found Josuke standing there with their order, his eyes sparkling with tears. Jolyne looked at both of them alternately and realized that both Josuke and Rohan were terribly blushing because of those words.

Jolyne remembered that same afternoon when she had bid farewell to Rohan while crying, telling him that when she grew up, she would marry him. Rohan had sworn and insisted that he had no idea where that idea came from, terrified in front of Jotaro. Jolyne didn't know why her beloved uncle Josuke had given her such a bad look until years later.

When Jolyne woke up, the first thing she saw was the handcuff on her arm next to her butterfly tattoo. She had been drugged during the journey. Willingly walking into the lion's den wasn't one of her brightest ideas. Even with her Stand and her Hamon, she didn't know the full extent of the powers the enemy possessed. Reimi, the girl who had led to Kira's capture, came to her mind. Jolyne hoped not to end up like her, but Reimi had been more brave than strong. She had to be brave too; she never stopped moving forward.

The handcuffs were actually the least of her worries. She could free herself from them effortlessly with her Stand. What she needed was for the room to stop spinning.

The single light streaming through the window didn't give her much of a clue as to how long she had been inside, but she imagined that faint light was the next day's dawn. She had just managed to stand up from the bed without feeling her legs tremble when she heard the door open.

Father Pucci came in carrying what looked like a breakfast tray, along with her pharmacy bag. As if on cue, Jolyne's stomach growled. For a moment, she had a brief internal battle with herself, where she debated whether to accept his food or not. She saw no reason why Pucci would poison her when he already had her at his mercy, but with him, she could never be sure.

"I didn't know if you would be awake by now. I brought you something to eat." Pucci set before her what looked like a juice box and a couple of pieces of pastries. "I can assure you it isn't poisoned, as I need you to be able to move, but if you have any doubts..."

Jolyne sat back on the bed and checked inside the pharmacy bag first. To her relief, all her vitamin bottles were still inside. She opened them each and swallowed the pills down with a swig of the juice. Then she took a bite of the first scone.

"You told me you wanted my help in killing Donatello," Jolyne said with her mouth full. "Tell me what it is that you want, and I'll do it if it suits me and will take that prick down."

Even while stuffing her face, she kept one eye on Pucci, alert. She didn't believe that he wouldn't propose a devious plan to hurt her family, especially her dad.

"Initially, I wanted you to marry him," the priest said solemnly, making Jolyne almost choke on her food. "We would assassinate him at the wedding."

'Initially'? Jolyne then noticed that his gaze was locked on her wedding ring.

"I'm not a bigamist. Marrying one son of DIO is enough for me." Jolyne fiddled with the ring on her finger, as if touching it brought her comfort. "We married civilly and in church. You know that saying, 'what God has joined together, let no man put asunder'. Although, what am I going to say to you? It's your people."

"The first time I met Giorno Giovanna, I thought he would be the one to inherit his father's greatness, not like that wannabe Donatello. But the Joestar curse that DIO always mentioned, that haunted him, appeared again." Pucci watched her table manners with disgust. "Are you really going to mingle your blood with his and destroy the lineage of the most solemn and greatest being that has walked the earth in thousands of years?"

"Yeah, sure, that 'being', whom the Joestars took in as a child, killed three generations of Joestar men and cursed my grandma. But of course, it's we Joestars who are the plague, not your boyfriend."

"DIO was not my boyfriend," he snapped, "but I understand that your head can only process a feeling like mine as romantic love instead of the purest of affections. My dear friend, who had plans to achieve True Heaven, was something much greater than a human being. Someone like you, the daughter of the man who murdered him, would never understand."

On the contrary, Jolyne thought that she might get it. Sometimes when she looked at Giorno, she felt all that stuff about him not being quite human, with his golden aura and intimidatingness. At first, she felt he wasn't a person, and it was hard for her to see past all that. But when she realized he was only human and started to see the real Giorno, she fell in love with him.

Pucci was still rambling. "DIO was my teacher and my friend, as the apostles were to Christ, and there was no one more prepared than him to teach me my way. It is my destiny to achieve True Heaven and share it with all of humanity."

"Ohhh, and here I thought I was blasphemous," Jolyne snickered. "Whatever this 'True Heaven' is, Father, it can't be that great if the way is paved with a mountain of dead bodies."

Something grew very murky in Pucci's expression, more so than Jolyne had ever seen him. "Murder isn't nearly the worst of sins if it's done to the one who deserves it. Theft can cause far more deaths than murder, just by not thinking of the gravity that gives rise to the most terrible sins strung together."

Jolyne sensed that he wasn't really talking to her about DIO or the Joestars anymore but about something more personal. Before she could analyze it, Pucci quickly changed the subject.

"Let's talk about our alliance—"

"What alliance? If putting me in handcuffs, rendering me unconscious, and dumping me in a cell is your concept of an alliance, then it's bullsh*t." She put aside all her food on the tray and stood up. "And you haven't even told me where my mother is. Believe me, if I don't have proof that she's okay, before long, you're going to regret bringing me here."

Pucci sighed, whispering a series of numbers, which made no sense to Jolyne, as if he realized now that he was proceeding wrongly but would not under any circ*mstances agree with her. Finally, he rummaged through his pockets for something that looked like a kind of baby monitor. On the small screen, Jolyne could see her mother and another woman she could not recognize. Both seemed to be locked up but appeared to be well. In fact, they were not handcuffed; there were empty food trays near them. Seeing Marena, Jolyne sighed with relief.

"I don't know who the other woman is," she said. "You've kidnapped an innocent person."

Pucci smirked. "You don't recognize your own mother-in-law?" He seemed to be doubting her relationship with Giorno again.

The screen didn't have enough resolution for Jolyne to recognize her, but the woman looked too young to be Giorno's mother. Of course, he had made it clear to her that she underwent cosmetic surgeries and treatments so assiduously that they were already directly an addiction.

"I don't think Giorno will care too much that you have his mother," Jolyne said. "In fact, he probably hasn't even noticed. He didn't have the best parents. In fact, looking at the rest, I don't think any of Dio's children were very lucky."

To that, the priest was silent, as even he could not justify how DIO had brought those children into the world so as not to worry about his own lineage later. Pucci had never tried to get attached to DIO's children; the three he raised always seemed a failure to him. They were something to be used and discarded, a necessary evil in the plans. There would be no room for any of the boys in Heaven, including Giovanna. He was now realizing that he should have gotten rid of them all earlier. But following DIO's example, he could use a Joestar when the need pressed him.

Jolyne watched Pucci with narrowed eyes. If there was one thing she hated, it was bad people who pretended to be morally superior and people who abused their power. Pucci was both. He always played the saint, the good and generous one, while taking advantage of the situation of desperate people. No, she did not believe that Pucci had a hair's breadth of good in him.

There was another tense moment between them, but it broke in a way neither of them expected. The door opened without warning.

"Pucci, I've been looking for you. I just came back from Napoli and I heard there was an explosion. Was it your doing?"

Donatello took a few seconds to process the image in front of him. Behind Pucci, Jolyne was standing next to the bed, handcuffed. Donatello stopped in the doorway, thinking he was seeing one of Ungalo's dolls, but his other senses couldn't be deceiving him.

While Jolyne swallowed down her sudden panic, Pucci instantly smoothed out his expression and turned to address Donatello. "Welcome back, Versus. As you can see, I'm serving breakfast to our newest guest."

Donatello ignored Pucci, his full attention on Jolyne. "What are you doing here?"

"I found her trying to escape from Giovanna's men," Pucci answered for her. "I didn't know what to do with her, so I've placed her here until we can ascertain if she's trustworthy."

"I wasn't talking to you," Donatello said then turned back to Jolyne with wariness. "What's happening, Jojo?"

Jolyne didn't like Pucci's story, but she decided to go along with it.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said, staring down at toes. "I just wanted to get away. I-I never thought he… would use the fact that my dad was away and…"

She couldn't even make herself say Giorno's name. The false words felt like hot coal on her tongue.

Donatello crouched down to be at her level and brought his face closer. Jolyne tensed and almost turned on her Hamon when he brought his nose to her neck, but he only inhaled her scent. Just as quickly, he got up, his eyes turning red and his teeth sharp. She expected to see excitement, but instead, his red eyes blazed with fury.

"I warned you he wouldn't hold back, and he did just that, didn't he?" Donatello growled. "I bet he thought that taking you would be enough to make me lose interest in you, as if I care about whether he tainted you."

Noticing that his eyes were no longer on her face, Jolyne followed his gaze to the gleam of her ring.

"Till death do you part," Donatello said.

Chapter 59: Paint It, Black

Chapter Text

Marena woke up on a bed with a headache worthy of a night out and a blurred memory of a woman she didn't know. When her vision cleared, she could see a young woman with dark hair and beautiful green eyes on the other side of the bed. She looked slightly familiar.

"Finally, you're up. I was starting to think they'd killed you while bringing you here. These people don't usually beat around the bush."

"Who are you? Do you know where we are?" Marena asked, clutching her head.

"I don't know where we are but don't worry. It's not the first time I've been kidnapped. When my son pays ransom, it will all be over. Who are you?" Before Marena could answer, the woman continued. "My name is Lucia, by the way. Don't be scared. This kind of thing happens a lot. Did they hit you in the head?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm still nauseous. It must be because of the pregnancy."

The other woman helped her sit up when she heard that, settling her better and putting her feet up, saying that this was what had worked best for her during her pregnancies. As Marena took a better look at her, she realized Lucia wasn't as young as she appeared. Her artificially stretched skin was showing.

"You say this isn't the first time you've been kidnapped," Marena said, "Are you a Stand user?"

"I'm not a user of anything. I don't need to pass drugs. My son is the Don of Passione."

It all clicked in Marena's head. That's why the woman's features looked slightly familiar to her. It was true that Giorno looked quite similar to her. She had never heard Giorno speak of his mother before, and being Italian, she knew that was very rare.

"Lucia... Giovanna?" she asked her doubtfully.

"Yes, the one and only. Do you know my son?"

"He's my daughter's boyfriend."

Lucia quickly chimed in, but Marena wasn't paying too much attention to the jokes about being in-laws and whether she would have to be mean to Marena's daughter. Her head hurt too much, and that woman wasn't doing anything to fix it.

She didn't remember Giorno mentioning his mother even once. It wasn't a good sign, not that Marena disliked the woman.
"It's good that we know each other now. You know, I think our kids are serious." Marena groped the ground.

"I don't think Giorno cares too much about my opinion. One day he left home, then another day, he came back a mob boss. He may complain about my education methods, but making him so independent has paid off."

Marena had had a hunch ever since she met Giorno that he had been an unloved child. She had only known Lucia briefly and could already confirm it. And being so sure of that, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, made her burst into a rage.

"I already suspected that Giorno had had a mother who didn't deserve such a title, but not that she would be so proud of it," Marena told her with an icy look. "I wouldn't be proud to say that a son of mine has found his home in the mafia instead of with me."

"You don't know what my life has been like," Lucia said with a frown. "I had to raise him alone until I married his stepfather."

"Well, f*ck you. I practically raised Jolyne by myself. And I've loved her every day of her life, even the ones where I thought she would be the end of me."

Marena sat back down on the bed and took one last evil look at Lucia, who sat silently on the other. At least she could have some quiet time while her headache went away.

Ungalo was alone in his room, minding his own business, not messing with anyone.

"Where is that stupid rat-faced asshole?!" Donatello's shout came from down the hallway.

Ungalo sighed, wondering what his brother wanted this time. No matter what he did, Donatello always had criticism, which is why he preferred to be by himself.

"Ah, Ungalo, my favorite brother," Donatello said lightly, stepping into his room a moment later. "I have a present for you."

Donatello's grin did little to conceal his barely-contained rage. Ungalo felt apprehension but also some relief; seeing Donatello that angry at least assured him that he didn't come for another doll of the Joestar girl. That sh*t was creepy.

Now his interest was piqued. Sometimes when his brother wanted something from him, he would bring him drugs.

"I have a Stand for you," Donatello said, pulling out one of Pucci's disks.

Ungalo didn't reach out to take it right away. Last time, when Donatello had given his other 'favorite brother' a Stand disk, it was to send him on a dangerous solo mission. Rikiel never returned from the latest mission. If someone had told Ungalo a while ago that he would miss him, he wouldn't have believed them.

"This is a special one," Donatello said, ignoring Ungalo's hesitance. "I think it's about time we stopped playing games. There's no one better to finish off a big brother than his little brother. Very biblical, don't you think?"

Ungalo couldn't care less about Giorno Giovanna anymore. Donatello seemed so obsessed with him, while Rikiel's disappearance didn't appear to faze him at all.

Ungalo had suspected for a while that Rikiel was dead, and Donatello's attitude was further evidence of that. For some reason, he didn't have the courage to open his mouth and ask for confirmation.

Foolish and deluded Rikiel, who had approached Ungalo before his last mission to ask him to escape together.

After Ungalo took the disk, Donatello didn't bother to tell him when he would be taken to Venice. Instead, he left to shout instructions to some of his 'cult followers,' who would surely come to Ungalo's room to fetch him. They had learned from Donatello to disrespect him; he had heard them insulting him behind his back, calling him a deformed monster.

Foolish and deluded Rikiel. Yet Ungalo regretted not running away with him.

If those minions wanted to fetch him, they would have to find him first. He left his room and thought about going to the street, but Donatello's people were always at the door. Hearing Pucci and Donatello arguing in one of the rooms, he decided to go to the basem*nt area. Sometimes there were prisoners; at least he stood above those people.

There was a lot of security, so someone must be occupying one of the cells. Ungalo couldn't help but be curious. The cult may not have respected him, but at least they let him circulate where he felt like it. He peeked into a cell through the window and immediately recognized the person inside. How could he not? He had spent so much time creating replicas of her.

He opened the door without warning, ready to accuse her of the worst crimes for all that she had put him through.

"You! You're Donatello's girlfriend! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Again, I'm not his girlfriend... Wait, you're the fourth one," Jolyne Kujo said. "You're the guy who threw all those pokemon at us that day. Ungalo, was it?"

Ungalo was surprised that she recognized him. Usually, when his brothers were involved, he didn't draw attention to himself. He scrutinized the girl; it was the first time he had seen her up close. He still didn't understand what all the fuss was about her. While she was pretty, it wasn't something to get so obsessed with. The smell Rikiel had told him that drove his senses crazy was sweet but too faint to do anything for him.

"What's the Joestar princess doing in this dungeon?" he asked.

Jolyne Kujo looked like she was going to insult him, which he didn't expect anything less than, but then she hesitated, and a look he didn't quite catch flashed through her eyes.

"So, it's true that Donatello treats you as if you're his slaves," she said. "Looks like Rikiel was telling the truth."

"You didn't know Rikiel," he snapped, his voice sounding sharper than he intended. Perhaps his brother's death made him more sensitive than he thought.

"Didn't know? Why are you speaking in the past tense? I saw him this morning," Jolyne snorted, brushing her bangs away from her eyes. "Considering the state he was in when Giorno recovered him, though, no wonder you thought he was dead."

Ungalo shook his head. "No… you're lying."

"Oh, am I? Then how do you explain how I know your name or that your Stand can bring story characters to life? Your brother told me many things, though he wasn't in good enough condition to talk the whole time. Don't worry; he's safe now. The last time I saw him, he and Giorno were catching up."

Ungalo wanted to retort that he wasn't worried, but the weight that seemed to lift from his shoulders surprised even him. He watched Jolyne Kujo warily, unsure what kind of game she was playing. She was definitely playing something because if people weren't disgusted, they only ever wanted something from him.

Jolyne Kujo had her chin propped on her hand, looking too calm for someone handcuffed and in a cell. He noticed the ring on one of her fingers for the first time.

"You don't have to play lapdog to anyone, you know," she said softly.

So that's what this woman was up to, trying to sway his loyalty. She could have even twisted the truth and mixed lies; she was irritating. Ungalo left the room abruptly before she could get under his skin.

There was no hope for someone like him not to live in fear and servitude. He had long accepted that. Still, as he headed out of the dungeon, he couldn't help but replay Jolyne Kujo's words repeatedly.

Chapter 60: You’ve Got Time

Chapter Text

This was far from the best way to establish a relationship with his father-in-law, but Giorno couldn't imagine a much warmer reception from Jotaro under any circ*mstances. He hoped the news of Jolyne would help mend their strained relationship. Jotaro had immediately agreed to come over when Giorno informed him over the phone about their lead on her disappearance. Giorno didn't even care too deeply about Jotaro's opinion, but the Speedwagon Foundation's resources would be immensely beneficial.

"You should eat something while you wait. I know you probably don't have much of an appetite, but it's better to have a little sustenance than to run out of energy all at once," Bruno said admonishingly when he came by to check up on him in his office. "I'm sure you didn't have a proper meal in Naples either."

Reluctantly, Giorno began eating because he recognized the truth in Bruno's words. He hadn't slept either, but that was something he couldn't afford to do, so eating a bit was the least he could do.

He was a disheveled mess and acutely aware of his current state. However, more pressing matters occupied his thoughts—rescuing his wife and ostensibly reducing the count of his siblings on this earth and, far less significantly, the number of priests.

He had barely finished his meal when he received word that they had visitors. In the unlikely event that Jotaro Kujo beat him up, Giorno would allow himself to heal his own wounds. He needed to be fully intact to face the important tasks ahead.

Jotaro was accompanied by Josuke and Rohan. If Giorno considered them with cold detachment, they would be a rather formidable assembly capable of terrible things. Fortunately, he was not their adversary.

Giorno gestured for them to take the seats before his desk, and they complied. However, Jotaro seemed restless, barely able to remain seated.

"What's the information you have, Giovanna?" Jotaro inquired immediately. He didn't need to ask for evidence of Jolyne's well-being; a father's instinct had told him she was still alive. "Who's responsible for this?"

"It's Father Enrico Pucci, formerly a priest at Green Dolphin Street Prison and one of my father's old friends," Giorno replied, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. "The very one who orchestrated Jolyne's incarceration to lure you in, Dr. Kujo. Allegedly, he wants Jolyne's help in eliminating Donatello and has taken Signora Marena as leverage against her."

Josuke gripped the table and leaned in, his concern palpable. "Hold up, if the priest has taken Jolyne to Donatello, doesn't that mean she's in immediate danger?"

He didn't have to elaborate on what kind of danger. Jotaro appeared visibly distressed.

Giorno's jaw slightly tensed, having avoided thinking of this outcome. On top of everything else, they couldn't forget about the matter of Jolyne's virginity, or lack thereof. Donatello might not take kindly to the revelation, and it would be far worse if he found out about her pregnancy.

"While the priest's hidden agenda is certainly suspicious, it stands to reason that he must have been truthful about requiring Jolyne's cooperation," Giorno asserted. "Otherwise, there would have been no need to convince her to follow him willingly. Therefore, for the time being, we can trust that he will safeguard her from Donatello, but we must act swiftly."

"I wouldn't underestimate Jolyne either," Rohan added. "Since she chose to follow Pucci, she likely knew what she was getting into. That girl probably has a few tricks of her own."

They had all seemingly forgotten in their anxiousness that Jolyne was also a powerful and resourceful Stand user. Jotaro, in particular, did not underestimate her but had trouble remembering that his daughter was no longer a child.

Giorno unfolded a map of Venice and spread it across his desk. "Abbacchio has picked up their trail. His Stand isn't the best for tracking moving vehicles, but I've deployed my men to monitor all possible harbor exits."

With a pen, he swiftly traced potential routes Pucci could have taken and indicated where they led. The other three men nodded thoughtfully, occasionally posing questions to which Giorno did his best to respond, noting anything he didn't know for Bruno to investigate later. After a thorough discussion and deductions, they narrowed down the likely escape routes, honing in on specific areas for their search.

"With this information, it's only a matter of time before we pinpoint the location of their hideout." Jotaro's determination shone through as he clutched a copy of the map. "Your assistance is very appreciated, Giovanna. You didn't have to do this, but we truly value your support."

"Of course, we all want to save Jolyne and Signora Marena," Giorno responded, sensing the distance Jotaro was trying to establish. "If there's anything else I can help with—"

"There’s no need. You don't have to do more than you've already done."

"But I insist," Giorno said. "Combining our efforts will enhance our efficiency, and I'm more than eager to join you personally on this rescue mission."

"We couldn't possibly ask that of you," Jotaro said, folding his map copy and rising from his chair. "The Joestar clan has already involved you enough in our family's personal affairs. Let's draw the line here."

Giorno's polite smile faded at the rejection, replaced by a frigid anger that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Josuke frowned, rising from his seat as well. "Hold on a second, Jotaro. We could use all the help we can get, and Giorno is worth more than hundreds of Stand users combined. Why shouldn't we accept his help?"

From his seat, Rohan chimed in, "While our small team may look and indeed be very powerful, especially with someone as smart as me, Giorno's Stand is almost as powerful as mine in its own special way. Stand battles have numerous unpredictable variables, and direct combat is not my specialty. Having him with us wouldn't hurt."

Struggling to maintain his composure, Giorno said through gritted teeth, "Is trust still an issue, Dr. Kujo? Is it because of my lineage, my connection to Dio?"

"You know that's not the reason, Giovanna," Jotaro replied, giving no further explanation.

Giorno locked eyes with Jotaro's cool, unyielding gaze and realized that no amount of persuasion would change this man's mind. His message to Giorno was clear: Jotaro didn't want him to be further involved in his daughter's life. Giorno felt a chuckle rise within him.

Jotaro continued as if it was already decided, "About Donatello, rest assured, we'll end him quickly. He won't have a chance to escape again."

Then, he turned to leave, motioning for his companions to follow.

Giorno clenched the pen in his grip. For Jolyne's sake, he had tried to maintain civility with her father and downplayed the true nature of his relationship with her, but his patience had worn thin. He would no longer yield.

He employed a cold, commanding tone when he said, "Dr. Kujo, I won't stand idly by when I also have something to lose."

He spoke neither too loudly nor too softly. His Don's voice, honed through years of practice, had the uncanny effect of sending a chill down the spines of enemies and subordinates alike. It made them hold their breath as if fearful of missing a single word he spoke.

Jotaro Kujo, not an enemy nor a subordinate, halted in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around, meeting the seated Don's unyielding gaze head-on.

"We either collaborate, or we work separately, but I refuse to merely watch from the sidelines like a stranger while the fate of the woman I love hangs in the balance. I believe you understand my sentiment." Giorno took a deep breath, knowing his next words would be difficult to accept. "What I'm proposing, Dr. Kujo, is that you rescue your wife while I rescue mine."

A heavy silence permeated the room as Jotaro attempted to process the information. Rohan folded his arms, muttering an "I knew it" in Japanese, while Josuke stood beside his chair, prepared to step in between the two should Star Platinum show any inclination to unscrew Giorno's head with a punch.

"What are you talking about?" Jotaro said slowly, his gaze fixated on Giorno as if he had just heard something utterly absurd. "Are you insane?"

"It's exactly as it sounds," Giorno said emotionlessly. "Two adults who wish to wed don't need a parent's permission to sign the legal papers or have a ceremony."

"I hope you're considering a second wedding where I'm invited," Rohan remarked.

"Jolyne agreed to this?" Jotaro exclaimed, still in disbelief. He then turned his incredulous gaze to his two companions. "Why don't both of you seem surprised? Were you aware of this?"

"The better question is, 'How could we not have been aware?'" Rohan said. "Anyone with fully functioning eyes would have noticed how gaga they were for each other."

"He's right." Josuke smiled nervously, slightly guilty. "Honestly, Jotaro, you've been a bit behind."

A storm brewed within Jotaro's gaze, along with hurt and, still, more bafflement. "When…?"

"As much as I would love to explain, it’s a very long story," Giorno interrupted, growing impatient. "We've wasted enough time already. Rohan, if you will, please read aloud my memory of the wedding for Dr. Kujo."

Rohan despised being commanded, but his curiosity, particularly about anything related to Giorno Giovanna's mind, compelled him to oblige. He abandoned his comfortable seat to navigate around the desk and reach the other side. His petite, refined white Stand manifested and unfolded Giorno's face like a book.

"Hmm, let's see… Ah, here's the entry. It was just a few days ago. 'My girlfriend, Jolyne Kujo, has proposed to me in one of Air Supplena Island's public restrooms. She has asked me to elope with her. How could I refuse?' Skim, skim, skim. There are many descriptions of Jolyne and his love here, which would be useful for a romantic piece, but let's skip that for now... Nerves, the wedding, the 'I do's'... Oh, the scent issue won't be a problem anymore. And…" Rohan paused for an extra beat, then closed Giorno's transformed face. "You didn't invite me to the wedding because you feared my suit would outshine yours."

Jotaro had fallen into utter silence. It was unclear whether he was at a loss for words or still in shock from the revelation. It was a lot to unpack, for sure. Especially the part where the marriage was his daughter's idea, not the mob boss's. It was considered a good sign that Star Platinum hadn't immediately materialized beside him, at least. Jotaro hadn't yet even discovered that he would soon be a grandfather—if Jolyne didn't have second thoughts.

'One revelation at a time,' Giorno thought, wiping the cold sweat that had formed at the back of his neck, a crisis temporarily averted.

Josuke patted his nephew's shoulder comfortingly. "Take a seat for now, Jotaro. This is a conversation Jolyne herself needs to be a part of after we bring her safely back home."

Jolyne couldn't say she felt at home within the cell, but thanks to her former days in the isolation ward, she was already used to metal bars and boredom. Being shackled to the bed left her with little to do except meditate—and investigate the source of the muffled sounds echoing in the hallway.

She wasn't entirely aware of the unfolding events, but it was evident that something was stirring up commotion within the house. Had Ungalo acted as she had anticipated? Had Giorno located her?

Passivity had never suited her well. She needed only a small crack to get one of Stone Free's strings through, and the door proved to be much less airtight than anyone presumed. Slowly, she began to explore the basem*nt, avoiding the security.

There appeared to be nothing of significance in the first few rooms. However, she heard two female voices arguing in the next one. She didn't recognize the first voice, but the second one was unmistakable—it was her mom's.

Pucci hadn't deceived her; he indeed had her mom, and from the scolding her mom was delivering to the other woman, it seemed her mom was in good health. A sense of relief washed over her. Even though Pucci had already provided evidence, personally confirming it put her at ease. The other woman, who was very ardent in defending herself, must have been Mrs. Giovanna. Jolyne never anticipated her first possible meeting with her mother-in-law would unfurl within a kidnapping scenario.

Next, she searched for escape routes. However, the doors leading out of the basem*nt were securely sealed. Jolyne swallowed her disappointment.

As she began to ravel her strings back together to re-form her arm, she suddenly heard footsteps approaching down the hallway. The steps carried the characteristic resonance of expensive shoes yet lacked elegance. It wasn't Giorno; he never lacked class, even amidst combat. But the newcomer seemed to be of similar stature.

sh*t sh*t sh*t. This was not part of the plan.

Pucci had assured her that he wouldn't allow Donatello to come near her again before it was time, yet there Donatello was, strolling by himself unobstructed through the hallway toward her cell. In a matter of seconds, he would reach the door.

Jolyne didn't have time to dwell on the how or the whys of Donatello seeking her out at nighttime. A single conjecture loomed ominously in her thoughts, causing her to shiver violently. She quickly inspected the handcuffs that bound her to the bed, confident that she could break them. However, if she did, it would alert Donatello and the security outside, jeopardizing the plan before it even began.

She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. It was too early to tell Donatello's intentions; this could easily be one of his last-minute whims. He may not be the sharpest adversary she had faced by any measure, but a fool's unpredictability was always a challenge. She couldn't afford to act impulsively.

Cursing Pucci repeatedly in her thoughts, Jolyne scrambled to re-form her arm completely. She had barely finished when Donatello swung open the door, walking in as nonchalantly as if he were pulling into a McDonald's drive-thru.

When he took a seat beside her on the bed, Jolyne made a conscious effort not to spring away from him. She couldn't help but remember the bloody kiss he forcefully gave her so many weeks ago. A second offense wasn't completely out of the question.

"Good news, I've found a way to set you free!" Donatello exclaimed in a tone that seemed too shrill. He cleared his throat and moderated his tone. "Giorno won't be a problem for much longer."

His last sentence left Jolyne stunned. Her curiosity was piqued, but she hesitated to ask him about it, worried that her face might betray her underlying concern.

"Hmm? Why the silence? Say something," he prodded.

"I don't know what to say," Jolyne said, licking her lip nervously. "Or how to feel. Should I be happy? Sad?"

"This is obviously good news. Why would you be sad about it?"

"Even though what he did to me was unforgivable, I'm not sure if it's right to wish for his death."

Donatello cooed. "Aw, Jojo. I never pegged you for the sentimental type. Do you want a hug?"

Jolyne crossed her arms and turned her face away, shooting him a sidelong glare, which only seemed to amuse him even more. He reclined comfortably on the bed, stretching his arms out behind him.

"Ungalo is currently en route to Air Supplena as we speak," Donatello's voice began. She couldn't fully see his face from her peripheral vision. "Security has been significantly enhanced since our last attack, but this time, he's accompanied by something rather unique. They won't 'see' it coming."

He chuckled at what might have been a joke known only to him.

Jolyne turned her head to face him directly and asked, "What does this have to do with Giorno?"

"Have a little patience, my dear; I'm getting to that part," Donatello responded, savoring her attention. "As I was saying, while this unique something plunges the island into chaos, Ungalo will deliver a disk to one Wes Bluemarine—I think you may know him. Wes will then claim this disk and recover all of his lost memories. Then, kaboom!"

He was too engrossed in narrating the story to notice Jolyne growing pale.

"Thus, that long troublesome island will meet its destruction from within. Don't feel too bad about it. These people willingly aligned themselves with Giorno, so they're hardly innocent. It's Giorno's fault if none of them survive. Their lives depend entirely on how quickly he rushes to their aid and whom he gets out in time."

Jolyne felt a wave of nausea wash over her because of his casual tone. The young, middle-aged, and elderly living peacefully on the island had nothing to do with any of this, nothing to do with her.

"Giorno might not be able to do much in this situation, even with his pretentiously named Stand. Part of me hopes he'll survive because I want to see him transformed into a… Oops, almost spoiled it for you. Well, you can see for yourself later through Underworld's projection when we go there for a little vacation to witness the aftermath.

"Sorry about your great-great-great-great-great—whatever, grandma, though. If she's as formidable as the rumors say, she'll manage to escape, but she'll probably have to abandon the others. I hope your little adopted relative wasn't still there playing Hamon warrior."

Struggling to keep up with his words, Jolyne found herself on the verge of losing it multiple times, her fists clenched tightly. There was a chance he was merely trying to provoke her, but if he was telling the truth, the situation was even direr than he had described.

She had thought she only needed to buy time and avoid arousing Donatello's suspicions until Giorno, her dad, and the others arrived. They should probably already be on their way to rescue her, wherever this hideout may be. However, Donatello's news threw a wrench in her plan. Even Giorno couldn't be in two places at once.

"Bring him back," she managed to say, using every ounce of her willpower to squeeze out each word calmly. "Tell Ungalo to turn around and come back. Please?"

Donatello appeared to ponder it for a moment, then said, "Nope. Can't do."

"Why not?!" Jolyne exclaimed, unintentionally raising her voice. Catching herself, she quickly adjusted her tone to sound sweeter. "Aren't you the boss of him? I thought your brothers listened to you."

"It's too late. Things are already set in motion," Donatello replied vaguely. "Besides, even if I could, I wouldn't. This is for the best."

Jolyne's face fell, her energy drained; she could no longer feign her emotions. Instead, she buried her face in her hands and released a sharp breath, shuddering.

"Are you sad? Don't be." He squeezed her bare shoulder, causing her to flinch. "They don't deserve to be called your family. Not after they abandoned you when you were just a child, the same way mine abandoned me."

He continued to recount his backstory, how his mother had never loved him, preferring his half-sisters, and how none of his family had cared enough to search for him when he ran away from home. He went on to describe how he ended up wrongly imprisoned at the age of 13. Hearing his story again, Jolyne's heart only felt numb. He was an absolute lunatic; she couldn't muster any empathy for him.

"Our lives are like a mirror," she said dryly, her voice muffled from her hand.

"That's what I've been saying all along. It's fate!"

Donatello's tone was filled with sincerity as if he genuinely believed in what he was spouting. Perhaps he couldn't see beyond what he wanted to see.

She steeled herself and uncovered her face, saying, "Is what you said about my family true? Then, have they been using me?"

"You're finally starting to understand. I'm glad." He reached out and took her shackled hands in his. "I did this for you too. Maybe you don't appreciate it now, but I have faith that you will one day."

"Thank you," Jolyne began, her voice faltering as she lowered her head slightly, allowing her bangs to hide her eyes. "Now I know why I instinctively avoided seeking refuge with my relatives after escaping from Giorno. His influence is just too great... But if anyone can put an end to him, it's you."

Donatello didn't respond immediately. There was a long enough pause that Jolyne became uneasy and lifted her gaze to look. Donatello appeared to be moved, caught in his own emotions.

"Jolyne, you…" He paused to collect his emotions, then changed his tone. "Of course, I can. My abilities far surpass his."

She felt her heart leap in her throat when his gaze trailed over her face, lingering on her lips.

"Jojo..."

"Who's Wes Bluemarine?" she suddenly asked, already having a guess but desperate to change the subject.

This effectively pulled him out of his reverie. Donatello frowned, displeased at hearing her utter the name of another man. "Forget it. He's no one important."

He released her hands, but before Jolyne could feel too happy, he smirked—a sight she despised with all her soul. However, she refused to show any reaction, even when he blatantly appraised her up and down.

"Now, don't cause any trouble," he said, finally getting up to leave. "The house staff will bring you fresh clothing shortly. Change without a fuss, and I'll have a surprise waiting for you."

Once he was out of sight and his footsteps were no longer audible, Jolyne finally allowed herself to release a sigh of relief. However, that relief swiftly transformed into a mix of anger and bitter helplessness as she replayed his words over and over again in her head.

Lisa Lisa, Shizuka, and her fellow warrior classmates should have been preparing for bed, exhausted from their day, yet they were on the verge of an attack even worse than the previous one. Jolyne did not doubt it would be devastating—assuming Wes, or Weather Report, acted as Donatello predicted once he regained his memories.

Feeling herself teetering on the brink of despair, Jolyne closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. After repeating this process a dozen times, her heart felt somewhat lighter, and her mind regained clarity.

As much as she hated it, she had to accept there wasn't anything she could do to help them in this situation directly. Obsessing over it was pointless, or, as Giorno would say, it was 'useless.' She should instead have more faith in her friends and family. Lisa Lisa would have reprimanded her for even doubting them.

Besides, she had a job of her own to do, too. The world could do with one less scourge. She would continue to validate Donatello's beliefs and reinforce his misconceptions, thereby clouding his judgment. His overconfidence would ultimately be his downfall, with no more room for escape.

Chapter 61: Sticks and Stones

Chapter Text

The news of Jolyne's death reached Air Suplena almost simultaneously with the news that disproved it. Confusion and chaos spread in equal measure when they received pleas for assistance to fight the priest's forces. Uncertain whether Donatello had focused on creating vampires, the islanders did not hold back from dispatching more proficient Hamon users. This was precisely what they had trained for, and they were ready to engage in battle without hesitation.

Weather Report was among those gearing up for the fight, yet there was an unsettling atmosphere he couldn't ignore. It began as a chill, a sense of foreboding that lingered. It felt like déjà vu, not just due to the storm but also an inexplicable unease, akin to a bitter taste in his mouth from something he couldn't recall eating.

Every morning, he listened to the radio while having breakfast with the disciples, and although he didn't comprehend most of it, he had learned enough to understand the weather forecast. He enjoyed seeing their predictions come true, but neither his Stand nor the weather forecast had anticipated this unnatural weather. It felt unnatural, and it sent shivers down his spine.

He rushed to the command center to issue a warning. Upon arrival, he realized everyone was fixated on the sea, their faces contorted in horror. He heard the loud screech before he spotted the colossal, grotesquely deformed, fleshy red creature steadily approaching, half submerged. Its immense size had nearly obscured the oncoming speedboat, which collided with the dock at full throttle.

Shizuka materialized next to Weather Report. He didn't exhibit any surprise at her sudden appearance, having grown accustomed to her invisibility. Often, when she sought a quiet and solitary place, she would end up in the same spot where he meditated. They wouldn't speak to one another, finding solace in the shared silence.

Together, they approached the slightly-damaged speedboat. There seemed to be two people inside having a shouting match.

"You can't request the enemy's help!" the boat's driver said. "That's not what the master instructed."

"To hell with that! He might be your master, but he sure as hell ain't mine," Ungalo declared defiantly. "I'm not lifting a finger to help that poser anymore. He clearly doesn't give a damn about our brotherly bond, having that ugly ass thing follow us. If you want to beg him for help, be my guest, but I'm out." Ungalo shoved the man, who suddenly realized adversaries surrounded them. "You want to stop me? Fine, I couldn't care less."

Ungalo disembarked, raising his hands in surrender. "Look, my hands are up. Don't shoot or whatever. This is a parley—"

Weather Report wasted no time, not allowing Ungalo to make a suspicious move. He enveloped Ungalo in a cloud, effectively immobilizing him.

"What the heck, man?! I said 'parley'! Don't you know what that means? It's a rule of negotiation!" Ungalo protested.

Shizuka appeared next to Weather Report, silently passing him an object. Ungalo's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the disk. Dammit. There went his trump card.

Even before touching the disk, Weather Report felt a strange sensation tingling on his skin. Upon contact, he instantly recognized it. The disk belonged to him. His fingers trembled as he turned it over, bringing the surface close to his face. On the disk, a face appeared—a very familiar one. Weather Report held his breath.

A wave of emotions overwhelmed him—rage, pain, sadness, joy, and so much more. He didn't understand why he felt this way, but a single action could provide answers.

"Hey, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Ungalo said, interrupting Weather Report's thoughts. "That's yours, isn't it? Your name is something like 'Wes Aquamarine.' The priest always kept that thing on him, never explaining what it was for, but Donatello believed it was valuable enough to steal."

Weather Report was only half listening, still immersed in his intense emotions and feeling a strong urge to insert the disk. Wes—Wes Bluemarine. His gut told him that was his real name.

He felt a tug on his hand and saw Shizuka's anxious gaze.

"He wanted me to use it to destroy this island, but, well, I'm a soft-hearted guy. Can't bring myself to hurt them kiddos. I never had any intention of—"

Desperation and being a puppet of Pucci and someone more powerful than you was something Weather Report understood all too well after so many years on Green Dolphin Street. There was something undeniably pathetic about the man. He was lost, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to feel lost.

"What is that thing? Your stand?" Weather Report interjected, gesturing to the fleshy thing. He slipped the disk in his pocket. "Call it off."

"What? I can't hear you. My ears are literally covered by clouds."

Weather Report suspected this young man was on drugs.

"It's not my Stand, so it won't listen to me," Ungalo said, then added, "Its user is dead."

"Dead, like a zombie?"

"No, dead as in permanently dead."

Weather Report fell silent for a moment. That ruled out many possibilities.

While the island's other occupants were preoccupied with the impending menace, Iulius, much to the astonishment of the adults, had to impose order and lead the charge. Perhaps Hamon wasn't the ideal weapon against it, but they needed time, anything that could provide an advantage. It might not be a vampire threat, but it wouldn't deter them. All the students on the island began assuming combat positions.

"Are you alright, Weather?" Iulius asked, noticing that Weather Report had become immobile. Weather Report's powers would be invaluable in the upcoming battle if they could persuade him to participate. Although whatever he sensed was colossal, the terror on Shizuka's face conveyed everything Iulius needed to know.

"No," the man replied, "I'm fine."

He observed the resolute expressions on everyone's faces. They were quite young, some even as young as Emporio. They didn't deserve to lose their lives in this battle. He gazed at the monstrous Stand; its destructive power was so immense that it was visible even to those without Stand abilities. He was weary; he would never be anyone's pawn again, nor would he allow others to suffer that fate, not as long as he had a say in it. The disk felt warm sitting in his pocket, but he ignored it.

A tornado materialized, lifting the Stand into the sky. Higher. He needed to go higher, beyond the atmosphere. He could do it; he just had to muster all he had gained, channel his anger, and pour it into the wind.

The creature was hideous. If it was a reflection of its user's soul, it had to be a monster. It could have been mistaken for some kind of giant octopus, but when it came out, it was flesh without bones, a kind of repulsive fleshy pulp.The monstrosity ascended, froze, and eventually left the atmosphere.

Having completed his mission, Wes Blumarine collapsed where he stood.

Jotaro had mastered the art of suppressing his emotions to accomplish a mission. Without this skill, his constant worry would have hindered him from saving his mother and carrying out the tasks he had been performing since he was barely old enough to do so. It was this same skill that kept him from rushing to the island and interrogating the newly captured spawn of Dio—the one who let him ride a Pokemon—for information when he received a call from Lisa Lisa.
However, his breaking point was nearing. First, the enemy kidnapped his (ex) wife and his daughter right under his nose, and now he had to confront the reality that Jolyne had married a mob boss who happened to be Dio's son.

If Jotaro were a more optimistic person, he might have found solace in the fact that Giovanna appeared to be Dio's better offspring. However, it was as though Jotaro had traded all his optimism for an extra helping of stoicism, for he was just barely holding back from punching the blond-haired man across the room.

More individuals had assembled in Giorno's office—his council and Jolyne's friends. Koichi was the designated middleman for Jotaro and Giorno, given that Jotaro had been a tad rough with one of the zombie consigliere during their initial attempts, leading to a hostile response. The atmosphere was tense, and Jotaro took it upon himself to prevent it from escalating further.

Giorno was engaged in conversation with someone, and his demeanor appeared slightly less tense than it had been earlier. While this could be considered good news, it left Jotaro uneasy, wondering about any potential schemes being hatched behind his back. After all, Giovanna had betrayed his trust by marrying his daughter without his knowledge. No one could accuse Jotaro of being overly suspicious. What was next? Would he become a grandfather?

Giorno looked up just then. When his gaze clashed with Jotaro’s, Jotaro didn’t shy away.

'You have a golden heart, Giorno Giovanna,' Jotaro thought, 'but there's an undeniable darkness in your aura, a reminder of the underworld. My daughter was never meant to be part of this world.'

Giorno cleared his throat, then shifted his gaze to address everyone. "My subordinates finished deciphering some documents. I need to speak with Signora Lisa Lisa. I believe I've figured out a way to thwart the plans entirely and what to do with the bambino verde."

Lost between the world of stories and reality, there existed a being. If Ungalo had attempted to summon her with his Stand, he would have realized that it was impossible because she was not a character, despite appearing in hundreds of stories. She was a recurring character, but like the winter she occasionally brought, she was not entirely a fabrication. Forged through legends and magic, there were forces in the world that transcended what humans had mastered with their science.

Stands. Hamon. Pillar men. Magic. The latter was merely a way to encompass all those things that defied the logic of our species, a mastery of energies unlike the act of invoking the Sun through our breath to annihilate a supreme creature allergic to such light. And the entities dedicated to controlling that energy bore various names, from benevolent fairies to persecuted witches. They were neither good nor evil; they simply existed as collectors of a price—the price of magic.

Anyone seeking mastery over Hamon had to undergo exhaustive training in return; Stand users found themselves attracted to each other with perpetual associated problems. Vampires required blood. Magic demanded a far more diverse array of prices. The specialty lay in knowing what price to pay, whether it be the memory of your first kiss with a loved one, a flower from a perilous cliff, or the still-warm heart of your own child. Magic was neither inherently good nor bad; its nature depended on what one was willing to sacrifice.

This was why old women could be portrayed as both kind and monstrous, depending on who was recounting the tale. The same old lady who aided one abused child might be depicted as a baby-devouring nightmare in the next story. Among these women, few were more renowned than Baba Yaga.

Even among the ranks of old witches, her domain was known. The old witch of the island, guarding the last practitioners of Hamon, was aware of her existence and prepared to strike a deal. The sea's waters remained turbulent, as if nature itself anticipated what was to come. Members of the Speedwagon Foundation were bringing the offering. For a moment, Lisa Lisa pondered if that creature was a child, cursed though it may be, just like any other child born of spite and ambition. Ending the life of a child, even one spawned from malevolence, did not sit well with her. But Lisa Lisa was wise and understood the price, yet she wasn't a potent intermediary.

They needed to summon her, and for that, they had to be women of considerable earned power—Hamon masters. She glanced beside her at her granddaughter, a Stand user and Hamon warrior. If they reached Jolyne in time, there would be two of them. Several Stand users resided in the area, but she was unfamiliar with them; she preferred to keep it within the family. After all, it was a matter of Joestars, the family that had always served as a silent barrier between the world and the schemes of Dio, the monster who had orphaned her as a baby and ultimately left her a widow. Even her granddaughter had been found alone in the world, most likely orphaned by the arrow that bestowed her powers.

At this point, too much innocent blood had been spilled to waver.

"We're better prepared than they are; everything will be fine," Shizuka assured her and perhaps herself as well.

"We'll do just fine," Lisa Lisa replied.

She genuinely believed they could succeed. They were well-prepared, and their adversaries were unaware of their failed attack. But every time they had anticipated success, unpleasant surprises had arisen. They called it collateral damage, and in thinking of Iulius, she couldn't help but remember Caesar, another victim of collateral damage. How many had fallen in each victory?

"Signora," one of the ship's crew members reported after hanging up the phone, "Signore Kujo has already arrived with the cargo. He's waiting for us at the port."

The encounter was unremarkable; neither she nor her great-grandson were particularly emotional. He simply transferred to another boat and directed her to the cargo side below, where tight security was in place. Perhaps she had built up too many expectations about what this creature would be like, for it didn't resemble a baby at all to her but an amphibian in the guise of a person. It brought to mind the tales where a prince was transformed into a frog, though she had no intentions of trying to kiss it. It marked the first time she had encountered such a Stand, though in this case, it was more than that. No one seemed entirely clear on the true nature of this being. They observed it from behind armored glass, and she wasn't sure if it would be safe to approach.

"It's highly unsafe to get close; it alters the size of everything that comes near it. Moreover, I couldn't approach it. It seems to have the ability to detect Joestar blood," Jotaro explained.

"It's kind of sad," Shizuka, known for making herself nearly invisible, even if not literally, in situations where she felt unsafe, surprisingly spoke up in a room filled with unfamiliar faces. "Being an unprotected baby, alone because you possess a Stand. I know it's not human, but..." She shrugged while gazing at him. "Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened to me if Dad hadn't found me. I was a baby with a Stand that no one else could have cared for."

Jotaro placed a hand on Shizuka's shoulder in a very poor attempt at comfort. He had never excelled in social interactions, and he had been absent during much of Jolyne's teenage years. Nevertheless, Shizuka appreciated the effort.

"We'll rescue Marena and Jolyne. Marena is strong," the teenager sought to console Jotaro, her nephew. "And Jolyne too, incredibly so. By the time we arrive, she might have already taken down Donatello, and we'll show up in time to see him cry."

Lisa Lisa observed them and felt like smiling. That's how the Joestars were—individuals who endured countless hardships but possessed an unparalleled resilience.