Part 3My Second Life: Ditching the Mafia Don

Giovannina's POV

I spent a long time at the cemetery before heading back. As soon as I walked in, I was met with the sharp, pungent scent of antiseptic.

Carlo was bandaging Margherita's arm. His movements were incredibly gentle, and his voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid of hurting her.

Margherita curled up in his arms. "It doesn't hurt at all. It's just a minor injury."

His brows were knitted as he chided, "Who allowed you to go to the training grounds on your own? What if your wound gets infected?"

The concern in his eyes was impossible to hide. Despite being married to him for a decade, I had never seen that look on his face.

Margherita lifted her head, and the moment she spotted me, a triumphant look flashed across her face. Then, she lowered her eyes and hastily adopted an innocent, harmless expression. "You're back, Giovannina."

She gently tugged at Carlo's sleeve and whispered, "I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose, Giovannina. Don't blame her, Carlo."

His hand froze in midair. When he looked up at me, his eyes were as cold as ice. "Giovannina, if you actually cared about Margherita, you wouldn't have let her take the fall for you."

I remained rooted to the spot and didn't say a word. I was well aware that the injury on Margherita's arm was self-inflicted.

In my previous life, she had done the same thing. To avoid being handed over by our Famiglia, she had deliberately injured herself at the training grounds to prove to everyone that she wouldn't survive the ordeal. Her injury wasn't serious, yet it was enough to keep Carlo by her side all night.

However, those who were sent to face trial were already regarded as traitors. Who could possibly survive it?

It was this very incident that cemented Carlo's belief that I had forced my own sister to die in my place, all for the sake of the succession.

I hadn't expected her to pull the exact same trick in this life.

Margherita's eyes slowly misted over, and she bit her lip. "Don't blame Giovannina, Carlo. If only I were as capable as her, you wouldn't be caught in such a bind. If I had a healthy body like hers, I could stand trial and still make it back alive."

Right after saying that, she lowered her head, her shoulders trembling subtly as though she had suffered some great injustice.

Carlo shielded her behind him and looked at me. "Giovannina, you should be the one to stand trial. I won't allow anyone to force Margherita again!" he spat out.

I lowered my gaze and slowly smiled. As it turned out, in this life, even after I had willingly given up my position as heiress of the Carrettiere Famiglia and decided to stand trial, Carlo still chose to believe Margherita.

Margherita had known all along that I was the one standing trial, yet she obviously hadn't told him. She wanted Carlo to misunderstand me for eternity.

But none of that mattered to me now. I dragged my exhausted body up the stairs, one step at a time.

When I walked past Carlo, he noticed the injuries on my body. His forehead creased as he asked how I had gotten them.

It had rained outside that day, and the rainwater had seeped into my wounds, making them sting slightly. Looking at the two of them wrapped up in each other's arms, I refused to waste another second on them. And so, I ignored Carlo and trudged upstairs.