Mafia's Princess(Under Editing)

Chapter 22

Anastasia Rose

I woke up feeling stiff and tired, the events of last night replaying vividly in my mind. My gaze immediately drifted to my tightly wrapped hand, the dull ache still very much present.

Yawning, I stretched slowly, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue. It was Monday—classes awaited me whether I liked it or not. No matter how exhausted I felt, skipping wasn't an option.

Forcing myself out of the warmth of the bed, I dragged my half-awake body toward the bathroom and began my morning routine. Shower time had always been my thinking time—the only place where I allowed myself to reflect, even briefly.

I wasn't someone who lived in the past. I never let it dictate my present or future. But for a few quiet minutes under warm water, I allowed memories to surface before letting them go.

Life had been good lately. The family had accepted me, embraced me, and given me a sense of belonging I hadn't known I was missing. The only dark cloud hovering above everything was the Australian mafia situation.

And Papa.

That was the only regret that never faded—the fact that he wasn't here. Not today. Not ever.

He had been everything to me when I needed it the most. My mentor. My safe place. He never scolded me, never raised his voice. He only tried—endlessly—to make sure I grew up happy, even if it meant staying away from my real family.

Flashback

"Ana... dear, where are you?"

Eight-year-old me came running out of my room the moment I heard Papa's voice.

Weekends usually meant amusement parks, rides, laughter. Loosing his wife and daughter in an accident made him feel like a empty shell so he couldn't help but be really gentle and loving to me, not wanting me to feel like I wasn't at home.

Since Papa had been busy with the restaurant, even on weekends, so I had assumed we wouldn't be going.

"Sí, Papa!" I grinned, my teeth showing.(yes)

"Ana, mia bambina... andiamo."
(Ana, my child... let's go.)

"Where, Papa?" I asked curiously, eyes sparkling.

"Il mio uccellino," he said, ruffling my hair.
(My little bird).

I shoved his hand away playfully, earning a chuckle.

"La mia bellezza, andiamo al parco divertimenti—come ogni fine settimana."
(My beauty, let's go to the amusement park—just like every weekend)

"But Papa, what about your work?" I asked, far too aware for my age.

"That is finished," he smiled softly. "Now we go."

I jumped in excitement, laughter echoing through the house as Papa watched me with pure happiness in his eyes.

Flashback Ends

A smile tugged at my lips as the memory faded.

Oh Papa... I wish you were here.

Turning off the faucet, I wrapped a towel around myself and moved into my closet. Feeling lazy, I picked something comfortable—white tank top, navy cardigan, white sailor pants, and sneakers. My hair went up in a ponytail, and after grabbing my bag, books, laptop, and phone, I left the room.

Yawning again, eyes watering, I entered the dining room and dropped into my usual seat, resting my head on the table.

"You look very tired, love. Are you sure you don't want to skip today's classes?"