Mia Figlia

Chapter 28 ✔️

PoV Stella

I hated him as much as anyone could hate someone. How dared that asshole to force me into a marriage! The mafia world was too dangerous for wives. I was safe as a simple resident of the estate, but certainly not as the don's fiancée. If it were not for Isabella's safety as well, I would have run away without batting an eye while shopping. Maybe I should do it at the next opportunity. Riccardo would not follow me, not if my daughter remained in his care. But what kind of a mother would I be if I left my child behind? Then I could never look in the mirror again without hating myself. The former don was aware of this. He deliberately used my own flesh and blood against me, I was sure of it.

Slowly I shook my head and looked at the bed again. The burgundy dress from the boutique lay spread out there. Riccardo had chosen it for me, of course, since I had not felt like picking out a cocktail dress. After all, I had had to wear the darned things often enough in my youth, always at the express wish of my stepmother. The old witch had destroyed my life, just like the evil stepmothers in fairy tales. Except that for me, a prince would never come to my rescue on his white steed.

Instead, I had fallen into the arms of a mafia boss. It would not have bothered me further if everything had remained the same as in the past days. We had developed a kind of friendship, if you wanted to call it that, born out of our common care for Isabella.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked the noble red fabric thoughtfully. A smile crept onto my lips. Riccardo had almost gotten into a fight with the saleswoman because she had constantly held very short or wide-cut dresses in front of our noses. Finally, he had pressed this one into my hand and directed me towards the dressing room. It wonderfully covered my scars, for which my stepmother was largely to blame. Sad, I closed my eyes. How would my life have turned out if my mother had not died?

Please always remember Stella, kindness and restraint will always get you further.

These words, which she had uttered a few days before her death, rang through my mind again. Where had kindness and restraint led me? What had happened due to my bare obedience?

My body as well as my soul were scarred. That is what happened. A tear stole from my eye and I laughed bitterly. From that point of view, I was a perfect match for the Italian. He was just as broken, as I had been able to determine. But every time I lay in his arms, I felt whole, protected, loved.

What was I for him? The mother of the girl he had adopted as his daughter? The woman who was meant to bear him a son? Or was I more?

In the café, when the drug addict held the knife to my gut, I briefly saw despair in Riccardo's eyes. Did he care about me? Or had he only reacted that way because he did not want to find a new future wife?

I sighed. I could not figure this man out. On the one hand, he had tried to get rid of me, to shock me, to rile me up, wherever and whenever he could. Then again, he was caring, almost loving.

There was an insistent knock at the door, and I looked up. I had a premonition of the person who wished to enter my room and I sighed aloud. Refusing him entry made no sense anyway. It would not change the fact that I had to marry him. I exhaled loudly.

"The door is open."

Slowly he walked in, almost as if he feared that otherwise I would take flight and jump out the window. Not such a bad idea after all. On the other hand, even if I got downstairs in one piece, leaving the compound without permission was almost impossible. The high walls and all the human gorillas made sure of that. Riccardo appeared in my field of vision, a small box in his left hand. His gaze wandered from me to the dress on the bed and back to me.

"You don't want to accompany me, do you?" To my great surprise, he squatted down right in front of me, putting us at eye level. There was a hint of sadness in his brown eyes. Gently, he put his right hand on my knee and squeezed it lightly. "I am not mad at you; I merely want you to have a nice evening outside the mansion."

"Your father is coming with us, right?" Suspiciously, I looked at the Italian. I did not feel the slightest need to go anywhere with the former don.

"Yes, he is coming along. He is the lesser of two evils, though." Riccardo broke eye contact, staring intently at a spot on the wall above my head instead. "My mother will be arriving soon," he continued, "and you certainly do not want to run into her."

The way he mentioned his mother reminded me of my stepmother again. A shiver ran down my spine. Maybe it was not such a bad idea to accompany him. But I did not want to admit defeat this easily. He could make a little more effort to convince me. As much paternalism as I had already had to endure in my life, I finally wanted to be asked to come along. It was childish for sure, but I yearned to be appreciated. I craved to hear that my presence was wanted. But how did I manage that? I stared at my hands, lost in thought and realizing that I did not wish to accompany him. Too much attention. No, his words would not change that, but I wanted to feel important for once.

"What is bothering you, cara?" Instead of my knee, he now lightly squeezed my hand. His brown eyes captured me. With difficulty, I swallowed the lump that choked my breathing. Why did this guy look this irresistible, too? Whether the small scar under his eye, the well-groomed three-day beard, even the nose grown together a little crooked after it had been broken by someone a long time ago. This man's dark aura pulled me towards him. When the hell had I started to be interested in bad boys?

I tore myself away from his hypnotizing gaze. If this kept up, I was going to become a mafia fan girl. What a ridiculous thought!

"I do not think it is safe for me to accompany you," I replied in a low voice. "You must have enemies, and it certainly would not be good for us to be seen together in public." The Italian laughed softly.

"Do you really think I am going to let someone hurt you?" Smiling, he now handed me the package he had been holding the whole time. Hesitantly, I took it. The wrapping paper was blood-red. How appropriate for a mafia boss. Indecisively, I turned the box back and forth. Riccardo's expectant look did not make it any better.

"Unwrap it already. There is no bomb inside."

"But a chopped-off finger as a warning to not embarrass you tonight, or what?" I muttered to myself.

"You can't embarrass me at all." His smile was warm and genuine. My heart admittedly did a little skip at his words. With trembling fingers, I removed the paper and opened the box. My breath caught at the contents. Although it had no diamonds or the like, I could tell at first glance that it had been expensive. A solid chain bracelet made of white gold. Speechless, I watched as the mob boss placed it around my wrist and locked it.

"And what if I get lost there and can't find you?" I had to find a legit reason so I could hole up in my room.

"That is what the bracelet is for. It has a built-in transmitter and is linked to my smartphone. Likewise, it is connected to our computers. So, my security people can track your every move." He smiled disarmingly at me, and I sighed. Actually, I should be pissed because he was giving me a gadget that he could use to monitor me. On the other hand, I was aware that it was for my protection.

"You win, I am coming with you," I conceded defeat.

"Eccellente, now we just have to settle one thing. Stand up." Riccardo rose, grabbed my hands, and pulled me up as well. Before I could react in any way, I already felt one hand on my back, pressing me against his well-trained body, and the other on my neck.

"After all, we have to practice how a couple behaves." He grinned like the Cheshire cat.

His soft lips touched mine. Gently, he deepened the kiss. As if of my own accord, I reciprocated. The hairs on my arms fought for a place to stand, a thousand ants crawled around in my stomach. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around him, clutching tightly, never wanting to let him go.

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Stupid, stupid move Stella!

Shouldn't she worry how it's going to turn out?