Mia Figlia

Chapter 3 ✔️

Pov Riccardo

"You have absolutely no right to separate the girl from her mother! Or you will give her the child back when she's out of hospital or you take her in as well." My father was fuming. The vein on his forehead almost popped. He did not take it well, that I wanted to keep Isabella.

"Her mother will most likely die. Mario talked with a doctor over there. Her lunges are perforated and filled up with blood when she got rushed into the emergency room. Therefor they put her in a coma. Nobody knows if she will ever wake up again." My daughter would stay with me, no matter what. And if my father thought he could force me into a marriage with that sorry excuse of a mother, he could forget about it right away. He tried such a thing in the past, and I was determined to never let something like that happen again.

Luckily, we got disrupted before he could continue his rant. Sitting in the kitchen instead of my office had its advantages sometimes.

"Papà?" Isabella walked slowly up to us, accompanied by Romano. My father's eyes filled with awe, hearing that sweet Italian word from her. My stone-cold heart warmed. I glanced at him from the side. Or I was in for another tirade, or he was going to cuddle her.

"Bambina, come to me for a moment." He opened his arms. Luckily for me, it was option number two. I smirked, watching my little one walking up to my dad, looking at him quizzically with her big brown eyes. He took her in his arms, put her on his lap, then rested his chin on her head, before letting out a sigh. "Call me nonno, my little angel."

"Nonno?" she whispered, not knowing what it meant.

"Yes, I will protect you like my son does."

Neither one of us explained to her the meaning of that Italian word. It was not necessary. We both knew she was family from now on.

Francesca, my dear old housekeeper, put a plate with pancakes in front of Isabella.

"Bambina, you need to eat a lot to grow up big and strong." She then poured a glass of fresh orange juice for my girl, not being able to take her eyes off her. I was certain that Francesca would care for Isabella whenever I would not be around. Hell, she used to keep an eye on me too when I was younger. The old woman had no children of her own, a disaster for any Italian woman. She loved to take care for the little ones. This was the main reason I put her in charge of the children of the families living on my estate, if their parents were occupied elsewhere.

"Francesca, can you please keep an eye on Isabella while I am busy in my office?" It was more of a rhetorical question since her eyes where glowing with joy, every time she looked at my daughter. Now, she beamed with happiness. She would keep the little one safe and busy for sure.

"I will send out Lucia to buy her clothes," she said emphatically. Lucia, that was Giovanni's, my sotto's, wife. They had two children, a boy, who was eight and a girl, who was five. That reminded me of something.

"Isabella, cara, how old are you?" I asked her gently.

"I am five." Same age as Chiara, Lucia's daughter. That was good since it meant they could be homeschooled together. Dio mio! I laughed to myself. The fact that I was already thinking about her schooling could only mean one thing. This child truly belonged to my family. Slowly I shook my head. Never thought before, I would get attached to someone this fast!

"Dad, if you would excuse me now. I have got something to do." I left the kitchen and walked to my office. To my surprise, my father was following me. I stopped in my tracks and turned around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What? My nipote needs a decent room. Let us do some online shopping." He passed me, walked into the office, dropped down on my chair and leaned on my desk. As if everything was his. Fine, it used to be his, and since he called Isabella his granddaughter, I was not going to argue with him. Well, it kind of went fast from being mad at me to furnish her future room, I chuckled quietly to myself. Waiting for the laptop to start, I grabbed a chair and sat down next to my dad.

After a few hours we were arguing which girl's room would be better for our little principessa. My father pointed at the picture of one which had a Disney theme. Disney princesses everywhere. On the walls, the furniture, the carpet, the duvet cover. Summarized in one word, awful.

I on the other hand preferred one where the bed was built like a castle. The sleeping space was at the lower part, but there were as well stairs to climb up and to play behind the castle wall. And there was a slide at the other side.

Both rooms were rosé, white, and pink. Every little girl's dream. The only question that remained was which one she would prefer. I called Mario.

"Please take Isabella to my office. I want to show her something."

A few minutes later the dark wooden door opened, and my daughter walked in, wearing a cute yellow dress. She had matching ribbons in her hair but did not look happy.

"What is wrong bambina?" My father asked, after noticing her face.

"Why can't I wear trousers? I don't like dresses." She pouted, a truly cute sight how she looked at us with her big pleading eyes.

"But little princesses wear dresses. And you are our little princess." He took her onto his lap again and I clenched my teeth. She was my daughter, not his. Grumbling I pointed at the laptop screen.

"Which room do you prefer, cara?"

"They are both ugly." She said after a moment, her nose wrinkling up.

We sighed. I went back to Google Search, typed in princess room, and let her look at the pictures popping up.

Excitedly she pointed at one picture. It was not showing a typical girl's room. Somehow it looked more like a boy's room. The furniture resembled a castle, not a fairy tale one, but more like a real medieval castle. The walls had a sand color. The bed was hidden in one corner, while the other secluded parts had a toy kitchen, a dressing room, a dining room, and a library with a desk. The whole thing had an upper part, with or walls or wooden railing. Of course, there was a slide at one side, too. This castle would take up almost her whole room. But at least it would have everything she needed to play with. Enough space for self-study when homeschooling would start, was granted as well due to the desk and the bookshelves. It reminded me of one of my families castles in Sicily, which was a big plus. I glanced at my father to see him smiling. He was most likely thinking the same.

"Bambina, I will buy this for you." He told her and her eyes started to sparkle with joy. "And my son, your papà, will buy you clothes, plushies and everything else you desire," he added fast, after noticing my sour face.

"Mi dispiace, ma voglio renderla felice anche io." He gave me an apologetic look. I understood, like me he wanted to make her happy. Still, it hurt, that he got her full attention now. A heavy lump formed in my stomach. Jealousy had never been a problem for me. Why was it different now? And why did I care that much? Ugh, I needed to distract myself.

"Boss?" Romano entered the office after knocking on the door. "We have a problem at the port."

"Alright, I am on my way." This could be a perfect opportunity to get rid of my bad mood, perchance by killing someone. My fingers itched to create a bloody mess. "Dad, if you don't have to leave now, then please keep an eye on Isabella."

"Of course, I will stay for my beautiful little princess until you are back from work." He wrapped his arms closer around her fragile body, a big smile on his face. It warmed my heart to see him this happy.

I gave her a peck on her cheek, then walked out the door, knowing she was perfectly safe with the former mafia boss.

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Well, looks like the former boss still knows how to get his own way. 

Why does Riccardo accept it without mutterings of discontent? Any idea?