Mob Wife

Mob Wife 32

*mentions of depression, rollercoaster of emotions

PLEASE, if there's error in the chapter, ignore it. I wanna give y'all these chapters, and I'm tired of re-reading them and making changes.

Mob Wife 32: bugiardo

Going home was the only thing she could do. Her initial thought was to go to Aubrey's, but Brooklyn knew she would have to explain to her sister why she's not home. She couldn't just burst that kind of information out. Booking a room was the next idea, but since she had no cash on her, she would have to pay for the room with her card, which Francesco would be able to trace. And for the last reason, his men were tailing her 24/7. He'll know where she is regardless; and in this moment, that frightened her a little.

Besides, it's not like she was trying to run out of the city. She just needed space.

Brooklyn was sober at this point, these racing thoughts and unwanted emotions traveling through her fast; coming and going as they pleased. She was almost certain Bernie killed Dianna, and if it weren't for her thinking about her shoes randomly, she probably would have never known. Francesco's words, I'm going to handle this, did replay in her mind. What would've been the excuse as to why Dianna was no longer around if she didn't see it for herself? Was he going to tell everyone lies about her death? Would they even say anything?

It made her anxious.

Flashes of Dianna's body popped in her head, and as she got dressed, tears streamed down her face.

She lost a very good friend. She felt heart broken, wishing she didn't see what she saw. The more she tried not to think about it, the more it popped up. Usually when she needed to clear the clutter, she'd listen to music or paint, but doing either was a hassle. Getting out those clothes and into the shower felt like a challenge, but she did it anyway, slipping on some leggings, refusing to wear anything of Francesco's tonight.

She pulled a shirt over her head, her gray graphic tee having tear droplets on it after they fell from her cheeks. She headed towards her draw to get her bonnet out, wanting to avoid this night; hoping to sleep the pain away.

Brooklyn wiped her face harshly, wanting the tears to stop, but they wouldn't. Her nose burned, rubbing it to soothe the irritation. She didn't have to look at herself in the mirror to know her eyes were already puffing up, she could feel it.

Francesco had contacted one of the guards, asking them if Brooklyn went home. He was shocked to know she did. The way she dashed out of Bernie's home, he was sure she was going to either stay out all night or visit her sister.

He also shared the same thoughts of not wanting to go home, knowing she would just yell at him more.

She had every right to.

He lied to her and he felt guilty for it. Francesco was more stressed about her witnessing something so horrifying. He never wanted his wife to experience something like that. The look on her face made his chest ache with this stabbing pain. The way she stared at him- at Dianna's lifeless body then back at him. He's never seen her so shook before.

Of course he was pissed at Bernie for what he did, but learning it was a mistake, he couldn't do anything about it. Bernie was an asset for this family, and sending him to prison was out of question. This was the cons of the life. He had to make decisions he will never forgive himself for. This was just something else to carry on his shoulders.

Bernie wouldn't stop weeping, clearly feeling bad for what he's done, but Francesco wasn't entirely so sympathetic for him. He killed his wife. Dianna was dead.

Francesco entered their room, seeing Brooklyn sitting up with her back against the headboard. She had shocked him once again because he figured she'd take one of the other rooms in their home before she laid in the same bed as him. She was so in her head about everything that has happened that she didn't even see him come in. The look on her face screamed she was hurting.