Mia Figlia

Chapter 23 ✔️

PoV Stella

My ears were still ringing from the shot. I looked at my trembling hands, expecting to see blood everywhere.

Nothing there.

Still, it felt like I was covered in blood. I killed someone. Tears burnt in my eyes. I was a murderer. My heart was beating like crazy, and my breath faltered. I clenched my fists several times, trying to calm myself.

This damn bastard. He made me kill a woman. My fingerprints were on this gun now, not his. No matter what, I would never be able to leave this property with Isabella. He could easily turn me in for murder if I tried to take her away from him. Fuck. How could I let this happen?

I ran to my room, tears streaming over my cheeks. My daughter should not see me like this. In the bathroom, I splashed ice-cold water on my face. It cooled my burning skin down to a bearable minimum. I looked in the mirror after putting my glasses back on. A pale woman with blunt hair glanced back at me. The skin under the eyes shimmered purple. No wonder, because the last two nights I had slept poorly.

Riccardo had dragged my trauma, which I had successfully repressed for such a long time, to the surface. Now the memories tormented me at night, constantly waking me up and creeping into my thoughts during the day as well. Training with Romano could only distract me from them to a limited extent. Except for the time with my daughter, solely one person made me forget, at least for a short period, what had happened to me back then. But he was not allowed to know that under any circumstances. It was enough that he now knew that Isabella never had a loving father before he entered her life.

A smile crept onto my lips as I thought of how tender he tucked her in or how he held her in his arms. She loved her papà, as she called him. I had not yet met the man she called nonno. But I did not desire to meet Riccardo's father. After all, he was the previous don and most likely as callous as the guy I did not want to cross paths with for the rest of the day. More precisely, for the rest of my life. But by dinner at the latest, he would screw that up for me again.

On the one hand, he demanded that I stayed away from him. On the other hand, he appeared next to me as if by magic. The worst part was how my body reacted to his closeness. Each time, I clung to him like a drowning woman. In all probability because he always took me in his arms when I felt horribly and needed someone to calm me down. But why did he do that? This man remained a mystery to me.

I sighed deeply, then brushed my floppy hair to weave it back into a tight braid. Isabella was certainly waiting for me. With straightened shoulders, I left my room and went to my daughter. As I entered, I grinned. Both Romano and Lucius had stayed with her and were playing with her lying on the floor. With dolls. Alright, those were not just any dolls, but the ones from the Descendants movies, but I was still having a blast.

"Don't grin like that," Lucius immediately mewed at me, tossing both Evie and Mal to me. He himself had Carlos in his hand, while Romano handled Jay. Isabella, on the other hand, was playing with the pirate Uma full of verve. In addition, she sang fervently their song from the second movie. We adults looked at each other silently and tried not to laugh out loud.

The rest of the day was relaxed, although I made a huge bow around the kitchen. It was clear to me that the bloody traces of my unfortunate encounter in the morning had been cleaned up shortly afterwards. Nonetheless, a cold shiver ran down my spine whenever I came anywhere near that dreadful room. Fortunately, Francesca knew what had happened and did not expect me to help her cook.

"Quel ragazzo impudente!"

Her words rang in my ears again. An impudent boy she had called him. She had ranted in Italian for a while after that. Much to the amusement of the Italians in the mansion. The don had been kind enough not to show up. If I had heard correctly, he was now training at a boxing club. Meant for me that I could move freely. I had put my daughter to bed half an hour ago because she was exceptionally tired today. Suspiciously, I had put my hand on her forehead, but at that moment she did not yet have a fever. Perchance she had been playing too much with Chiara. The two girls were sometimes real little devils. I had noticed with satisfaction a day ago that the sotto's daughter had meanwhile discovered her love of pants and for that reason no longer dutifully put on her little dresses. Caused protests among the Italian women, but the men only shook their heads in amusement.

To stay away from trouble, I had retreated to the library and enjoyed the peaceful silence. Those who were currently in the building were sitting down to have dinner. The rest had either gone with Riccardo or had gone elsewhere. Francesca had scolded me for grabbing solely one slice of bread, but then she had smiled indulgently. She understood that after the morning's affair I did not feel much like eating. Like the don, I had fool's liberty, I noted, frowning. I slapped my forehead. Of course. They still expected Riccardo to marry me. Yet he did not even like me. Eventually his people would realize that I reassured myself.

After a while, I left the library and went downstairs to the living room. I could not concentrate on reading. The gunshot kept echoing through my head. The shot I had fired at the blonde. The one that had killed her. It did not count that Riccardo had guided my arm and pulled the trigger with me. I could have objected. But a small part of me felt that she deserved it no other way. How could I have thought this way? Was I slowly turning into a monster through the company of the mobsters? Or was it the part that had been suppressed since my childhood, that no longer wanted to put up with bullshit? That felt it was time to dish it out instead of always accepting everything that hurt me.

"Where the hell is the doctor?" Lucius's loud voice, coming from the entrance hall, startled me. I had seen that he had left with the don and some other men. My body tingled oddly as goose bumps covered it. I did not like the idea that one of the men had been hurt. Yet I could not care less, as long as Isabella was safe.

Abruptly, I stood up and ran into the hall. Four men brought the injured man in on a stretcher. A blanket lay over his body, but I saw that there was a bloodstain on one side. At that moment I realized who the injured man was. Riccardo lay unusually still. His usually beautiful olive skin tone had turned gray. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. Nothing could happen to him. He had promised to care for Isabella, after all. I watched rigidly as they took him to the infirmary. A warm hand rested on my shoulder, stopped my body from trembling.

"Don't worry, the boss has survived worse injuries." Romano pulled me to his strong chest, and I snuggled against him for a moment. Then he led me into the living room, where we waited, lost in thought, until Lucius joined us. He informed us about the incident at the boxing club. I listened breathlessly as he told how Riccardo, together with his men, had fought off the attackers, although he was already injured at that time. It was abundantly clear to me. The don was ruthless and would die to defend his family. I curled up into a protective ball on the sofa.

After a few hours of waiting, Mario joined us and asked me to follow him. To my great surprise, he led me to a sickroom. The don was lying motionless on a bed. Cables led from his chest to some devices that monitored his vital signs. A bandage was wrapped around his abdomen, and I watched as the doctor adjusted the saline drip to the proper rate. I assumed that the fluid was also being used to pump a painkiller into the veins of the injured man.

"He should sleep for now," the middle-aged man informed us. Then he looked directly at me. "Since the boss accepts more from you than from any of us, you will take care of him. I don't feel like having to patch him up again because he gets up too early." I swallowed and looked at him, stunned. He could not be serious. I felt a sting in my stomach when I realized that it was not a joke.

"Do you have any more questions?" He packed his things to the side. I noticed an empty syringe.

"Yes, I do, to be honest." The doctor waited expectantly for me to continue. "When was the last time the don had blood drawn?"

"It has been a while," the man replied after a moment's thought. He seemed displeased.

"Then now would be a good time to catch up. With his drinking, regular checks should be made so he does not collapse unexpectedly at some point." If no one else dared to do something about it, then I guess I had to take over. I watched with satisfaction as the doctor took several blood samples from the injured man. Mario grinned next to me. Well, Riccardo ruined my life, and I did not mind returning the favor.

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What will the results of the blood tests be? How will Riccardo react when he finds Stella at his bedside?