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I lay down on the couch, not being able to sleep. After a long first day in my apartment, Isabella had gone to sleep in my room with rain on the bed. Even though I totally disapproved of having him on there, his presence seemed to calm her. I was sleeping on the couch, as the penthouse had only 2 rooms. My room and another room that was filled with guns and gun accessories.
I can't believe it. Isabella is here. She's not dead. She's actually here. So the finger they sent was obviously not hers. I hate it. I hate knowing that if I looked into it a little bit more I'd be able to save her. To spare her all the trauma.
I huff, feeling all the guilt really hit me as I run my hand down my face. She's here and she's traumatized. God knows what they have done to her.
I suddenly hear a loud whimper, snapping me out of my thoughts. I quickly get up, rushing to the room. Rain comes running out of the room towards me, clearly concerned and confused.
I head in the room and see her thrashing around in the bed. Her eyes shut as she seemingly has a nightmare, crying and whimpering in her sleep.
Rain follows after me, whining as he looks at her curiously. I sit on the edge of the bed, my hands raised as I'm unsure on what to do.
I'm a Mafia Don for fucks sake. I don't know how to do this.
I clear my throat as her whimpers get more panicked, her face getting even sweatier. "Isabella." I say, as I gently wrap my arms around her. "It's only a nightmare, wake up." I run my hands through her hair in an attempt to gently wake her up.
She shoots up, her body trembling in my hold.
"Shh, it's okay. It's okay, Isa-" but before I can complete my weak attempt at soothing her, she interrupts me with a loud heart wrenching scream.
"No! Let me go. Let me go." She screams out, as she beats her fists against my chest. She furiously thrashes against me, crying and screaming out.
"Let me go. I don't- I don't want-" she stumbles on her words as she scratches at my arms, her blue eyes furious.
"Okay, okay. Calm down." I say, startled as I pull back. She quickly runs to a corner, her scared and tired blue eyes staring at me with wariness.
"Just let me go. Please." She croaks out. Rain goes to her side, laying next to her as he licks her arm.
"Bella-" I start, not knowing what to say. "You're not- you're not a prisoner here. I'm just trying to take care of you until you're better." I say, walking closer to her.
She cowers back, her brows pulling together in anger. "Stop lying. Stop fricking lying to me." This time she's not upset or scared. She's angry. She's frustrated.
I pause, trying to decide what would be the best thing to do in this situation. An idea suddenly pops in my head. Maybe if I show her proof that I've basically known her since she was born, she'll trust me more.
"Okay, okay. Look, I know you don't remember but I've known you since you were born, Bella. Look I have pictures." I pull out the printed pictures that vacate my drawer.
She looks at me in disbelief, moving her gaze to the stack of pictures in my hand.
I sit beside her, not missing the way she shrinks back. She hesitantly takes the stack of pictures from my extended hands.
"Look, that one is my mom holding you when you were just 2 months old. Do you recognize the person next to her?" I say, pointing to Maria in the photo.
I look to Isabella, catching sight of her tear filled eyes as she looks at the picture with longing. Her lips trembles as she speaks, "Mama." A tear falls down her beautiful face as she traces her fingers over the picture.
She remembers her. She remembers her mom.
"Yes that's Maria, that's my mom next to her." I confirm before I show her the next picture. Her eyes glint as they fall on the picture of a 8 year old me, and Roberto next to me as I hand a cupcake to a 6 year old Isabella.
I point to Roberto. "That's yo-" she interrupts me, her hand tracing her father. "Papa. That's papa." She cries.
"Yes. Yes, Principessa. That's your papa. And that's you. And me." I point to us, my heart aching at the mention of Maria and Ricardo.
How will I ever tell her that the only family she had is gone?
She looks back at me, her tear-filled eyes looking at my intently. Like she's trying to remember me. I bring my hand to her face, ignoring her recoil as I wipe her tears.
"I won't- fuck-" I pause painfully. "I won't fucking hurt you. Look through the rest of the pictures. I've known you your whole life, Isabella." She looks at me like she's finally opening to the idea that I might be telling the truth.
I take a deep breath, wiping more tears from her beautiful face before I speak again. "You'll just stay with me for a while. Until you're better. Then I'll get you set up wherever you want to go. You're not a prisoner here, Bella."
She just looks at me. The silence gathering around us, as our eyes stay locked on each other. Her blue ocean eyes, making my heart beat wildly as I tuck her hair behind her ear.
"Go to sleep, Bella. If you're ready, I'll tell you everything you want to know tomorrow." I say before getting up and leaving her room.
I know this is a shorter chapter, the next ones will be longer. Bare with me. Also follow my Pinterest account, and boards of this story.
