MARCELLA

11- Rivals

Massimo's POV

I drop Marcella off in her room and turn back to face my father and brother, Dario.

I try and keep my cool but end up snapping, "She's fucking pregnant and you didn't think to tell me?!"

I mean, what the fuck were they thinking? The sheer amount of enemies we have...

"Son, Dario just found out yesterday and told me. She hasn't even been here a full two days yet and I can already tell something isn't right." Dad tries to explain, but it only pisses me off.

"So fuck! You should have told me, I'm the oldest. What would have happened if someone got close enough to shoot her directly on her fucking stomach when we got ambushed?" I whisper shout, a different kind of worry overcoming me.

Dario shoves me, "Rape." He says, effectively shutting me up and I stumble back, shocked. My face drops, RAPE? What the fuck is he talking about, "No." I whisper. It fucking can't be, not her.

"Son, you can't tell me that you haven't observed her. That you haven't seen some signs?" he shakes his head at me.

My mind flashes to when she came yesterday, the flinching, constantly rubbing her wrist. Fuck! I never once thought it could be this, not ever.

"Massimo, I-i think we stole these. W-we have to take them back. I don't want to go to prison!" Marcella meekly opens the door looking alarmed at the socks in her hands.

As I look at her, I can see the pain, the fucking innocence clinging to her. Even with everything, she has been through she is still strikingly naive.

"We will go meet the fuckin Deeno's, you okay here?" Dad asks me, I can see how much this is tearing him apart, how much he wants to bond with her. But being the Don has many responsibilities.

I give him a brief nod and turn back to Marcella.

Marcella's POV

I frowned as I pulled on the fluffy shorts and jumper set, who are these rivals? I don't fully understand it but it sounds dangerous. Dangerous scares me. As soon as they had mentioned their arrival, Massimo carried me here to change. They all seem... Tense?

I didn't really want to go down there with them, but Dario mumbled something about needing to keep me close so I'm safe. It was the way he said it that has me on edge as though something could happen.

Just the sound of all those men in one room together. And then just me, defenceless. I'm starting to get comfortable with Massimo but trust? I don't trust him. I don't trust myself.

I hiss as I pull the shorts on, my leg stretching in a way it shouldn't be after getting shot. I still can't believe I got shot, it's so surreal. The fear I felt, still feel. Shakes me a little.

As I get the hoodie off my head something hits the floor and my brows furrow, what the?

Lilac socks, the socks. The socks that I gripped so tight during the shoot-out. My vision tilts momentarily and I take a deep breath, calming myself.

My eyes widen as I realise I didn't pay for them! Oh God, what if the police come for me? I've never done anything like this in my life. I can't go to prison now! I can't help but panic, endless scenarios running rampant in my mind.

I quickly rush the fluffy jumper on and waddle to my door, "Massimo, I-i think we stole these. W-we have to take them back. I don't want to go to prison!" I say alarmed, hoping he can help.

He finished talking to Dad and Dario and turns to me as they leave. "It's fine, I'm sure they have more things on their minds than socks." He tries to reassure me and gloss over it.

I raise my brows shaking my head, he doesn't understand. "W-what if they come for me? W-what about my baby." Tears of frustration at how I let myself unintentionally steal and how he doesn't understand fill my eyes.

"Marcie, baby," He whispers, wiping a tear as it falls, "Your okay, your baby is okay. Your safe here, I will send them the money for the socks yeah?" He reassures me, a soft look in his eyes.

I falter slightly, not sure if I can trust him. I don't ever remember a time I trusted someone. "Are you sure? I-i just, I-i." I lose my words not sure of what I want to say or think. I hate how hard things are, I'm sick of being scared.

"I just want things to be okay," I whisper, my mind drifting again.

Massimo sighs and nudges me back into my room, "Hide the socks picolla, in case one of our brothers finds them. You don't want them to know yet do you?"

I shake my head at him, I definitely don't want them to know. I think Tomasso hates me.

I frown at my track of thoughts and look around my room. I shove the socks under the pillow on my bed, "D-do we have to go down now?" I ask him, grabbing my blanket off the bed and wrapping it around myself.

"Yeah," He walks to the door waiting for me.

I walk over to him, trying not to limp with the pain in my leg, "Right come on up." He picks me up and carries me downstairs.

I stay tense the whole way down, not used to him carrying me and worried about whoever it is I'm about to meet.

He sets me on the couch and sits next to me, I take a quick peek around the room, My dad is on the other side of Massimo and my younger brothers are on the couch opposite us.

I curl up and see a really buff, strange man sitting next to me with a gap between us. I swallow hard. He doesn't look much older than my younger brothers but has a scary aura about him, dark almost.

A carbon copy of him but much older, most likely his Dad, sits next to him. He has a deep scar on his face and I can't help but get sad about it. Someone must have been nasty to do that, it must have hurt.

The man around my brother's age turns to me with no facial expression. I shrink into myself pulling my blanket tighter and over my head, like a hood, trying to hide.

"Deeno," Massimo nods his head at the man in a not-so-friendly way. I frown as I look between them and furrow my brows. If they are not friends then why are they together?

"Nera." The man says nonchalantly, his eyes flicking onto me and I gulp. His eyes are so dark yet so light, grey.

"What are these idiots doing here?" Mattia rolls his eyes as he strolls in.

"Mattia!" my Dad reprimands him and I flinch, moving slightly away from where he is sitting. I bump into the man and flinch away, "s-sorry," I whisper, my heart racing. Oh no, I bumped into him, he will be mad!

"Calmati uccellino," He said glancing at me and I frowned not understanding.

(calm down little bird.)