Rightfully His

.09

All rights reserved...@brightlights101

Andrea woke up that morning with no sight of Matteo. She tightens her robe in a mock shiver, heaving a sigh of relief to know he wasn't there. She makes herself a hot cup of hot chocolate, sitting at her dinning table and starring outside her bay windows.

Her mind wanders, thinking back to last night. Three men died. Three. All in a span of minutes. She wondered how anyone could be so nonchalant with a mans life in their literal hands and decide their fate with a pull of a trigger. Matteo was not God himself and he does not get to decide who lives or dies. That was God. What Matteo is, is an executioner. He was the reaper.

The thought of blood, the cold bodies laying behind her fathers restaurant, the images of her villa being raked with fear and dread wondering if they would be next. It all but had her running to her bathroom, hurling up last nights dinner and then some.

She tosses her head back against her porcelain bathtub. Her hand goes to her stomach and she looks down, rubbing the material of her robe.

She whispers, "oh mio figlio, come vorrei non fosse questa la vita che ho previsto per te. Ma non preoccuparti, mama ti proteggera dai nemici di tuo padre." Oh my baby, how I wish this wasn't the life I envisioned for you. But don't worry, mommy will protect you against the enemies of your father.

Later in the afternoon, Andrea ate a full breakfast meal with her prenatal vitamins. She also found herself baking. She was craving sweets. Nothing these days felt like they are satisfying her. It was a hit and miss when she ate.

After stuffing her face with seven coffee and hazelnut amaretti, Andrea found herself passed out on her couch with I Love Lucy playing in the background.

Her sister and her two sister-in-laws all snicker above her sleeping form. Her mouth was open as a small trickle of slobber ran down her chin with one half eaten sweet laying on top of her chest.

Laura pokes her sisters cheek. Andrea doesn't move. Laura jabs a little harder. Andrea groans but remains sound asleep.

"I got this," Gia whispers with a subtle wink. "Andrea! Wake up! Edmundo ate all your cannoli's!"

Andrea sits up, her plate falling to the ground and her sweet falling to her lap.

As her eyes adjust and her hearing fills with boisterous and obnoxious laughter she turns to her sisters with a frown.

"That wasn't necessary," she huffs, swinging her legs over the edge and eating the half eaten sweet. "What's the special occasion?"

Gia, Laura and Margherita sit down, their faces once filled with joy at scaring Andrea from a peaceful slumber was replaced with dread and pain.

"What's wrong?" Andrea asks worried with the strange atmosphere her living room was now in.

Gia rubs the top of her thighs, "Giorgio and Edmundo didn't say how bad Rahelio did a number on you. We thought he tossed you around, not physically and noticeably harm you."

Having forgotten the appendages on her face, Andrea smiles softly. She was grateful to know she had family that would go out of their way to make sure she was okay.

"They were only trying to protect you. They had your best interest at heart."

"That doesn't give them the right to downplay the severity. I mean, Andrea, have you seen yourself? You are hurt, you're in pain. They should've told us how bad it was. We would've been over here the second we knew," Margherita said sternly, her hands balling into fists in her lap. 

Margherita wasn't the type to show anger or aggression, and neither did Giorgio, they were perfect for one another.

"It was late-"