[𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗗]☕︎
♔︎#1 in Mafialove [3 Feb 23]
♔︎#1 in Newadult [2 June 23]
♔︎#1 in Affection [15 Sep. 22]
♔︎#2 in Eroticromance [16 April 23]
♔︎#3 in Mafiaboss [28 May 23]
♔︎#20 in Power [1 July 23]
DAVIDE was arrogant, the worst nightmare, sh...
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Flashback continues: -
Davide Pov:-
"That's enough, Mom. Are you blind to the pain he causes you? He doesn't love you; he's consumed by his own desires and selfish pursuits. He's betrayed you countless times, and it's tearing me apart," I exclaimed, the frustration and concern lacing my words.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, struggling to control the rising tide of emotions. When I turned to face Mattia, my mother, her tear-streaked face reflected the turmoil within her.
"He doesn't deserve you, and I can't stand by every time he mistreats you," I continued, my voice filled with a mix of anger and protectiveness. "Mom, you deserve someone who values you, cherishes you, not someone who only cares about himself and his reckless desires."
I felt the weight of my words as I clenched my fists, channeling the intensity of my emotions. "Per l'amor di Dio, Mom, stop crying and see the truth," I pleaded, the urgency in my tone reflecting the pain this situation inflicted on me.
The room fell silent after my outburst, the echoes of her sobs lingering in the air. Guilt gnawed at me; I never wanted to hurt my mother. After a moment, she ceased crying, but her tears persisted.
"Forgive me," I whispered, softer this time, remorse coloring my voice. It hurt to see her so broken, and I wished I could ease her pain.
As she lifted her chin to meet my gaze, her eyes mirrored a complex mix of emotions. In that moment, I recognized her fragility, the gentle soul obscured by years of torment.
The connection between us transcended words. With a shared understanding, we exchanged expressions of sadness and acceptance. A broken smile crossed her lips, and my heart ached for her.
In a swift motion, I moved to her side, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. Mattia reciprocated, her arms encircling me, seeking solace in the warmth of our shared love. Her tears continued to fall, each drop breaking my heart anew.
With my cheek pressed against her head, I offered a silent promise of protection. Our quiet embrace conveyed a depth of emotion words could not capture, a mixture of sorrow and a fierce determination to shield my mother from the harsh realities of the world.
"Mi dispiace," I whispered, my apology a gentle acknowledgment of the pain I inadvertently caused her. "I am sorry, Mom," I repeated, my voice carrying the weight of remorse for my outburst and the troubles she endured.
A sigh of relief escaped me as I noticed her sobs subsiding. "I'll buy those rose flowers you mentioned, but only because you asked me to," I declared, adding a playful roll of my eyes to lighten the atmosphere. With a nod and a resigned smile, I surrendered to her whims, a small act of appeasement for the woman I cherished.
Her response was a beaming smile that lifted the heaviness from my heart. In that moment, the love between us transcended the struggles, and a sense of tranquility settled over us.
"Buona notte, mamma," I whispered as she left my room, the Italian phrase carrying a wish for a peaceful night and sweet dreams. Locking the door behind her, I hoped my gesture, coupled with the promise of roses, would contribute to a better tomorrow for my mother.
"Fuck," Davide muttered under his breath as he revisited the conversation with Mattia in his mind.
After a brief moment of contemplation, he headed toward his car, seeking the solitude it provided. With one hand resting on Carlo's shoulder for support, he swung the car door wide open before sinking into the driver's seat. An audible exhale escaped him as he leaned back, letting his head fall toward the back seat, and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Al negozio di fiori," Davide instructed his driver, prompting Carlo, seated in the passenger seat, to turn back with raised eyebrows and a perplexed expression. "Why?" Carlo inquired, his curiosity evident.
"What, you planning to propose to someone?" Davide shot back with a teasing yet accusatory gaze that seemed to imply, "Do I need to worry about you?"
Carlo chuckled, "What? Then why flowers?" Before he could continue his playful banter, Davide interrupted with a stern voice, "You should get married now, Davide. You're getting old, turning 26, and Dad is about to pass the business responsibilities to you." Davide's deep voice cut through the air, "Zitto diavolo, Carlo." The command silenced Carlo, who turned back with a playful grin, acknowledging his brother's command.
Closing his eyes, Davide's mind raced with thoughts. He didn't want to marry just anyone. He desired his other half, the one who could drive him insane with both passion and love. In this marriage, he envisioned being truly in love, finding his other half, his il suo destino.
