Page 35 of Mabilia

“How? He told them he did it, and he didn’t do it, Papa. I did it,” she says. “I didn’t even think about what would happen. I just shot them.”

“You thought about surviving, which is exactly what you should be thinking about in a situation like that,” I remind her.

Mabilia shakes her head. “I wasn’t thinking about me, Papa. I was thinking about Tommy. I didn’t want them to hurt him.”

“I know, baby.” My fingers stroke through her hair. “You are strong. You did the right thing.”

“What’s going to happen? With Tommy? Will Zio Matteo really be able to get him out?”

“The bail hearing is at twelve today. Rest, then get ready. I’ll take you. Your uncle will get him out.”

“How do you know?” she asks.

“Because I made sure of it.”

When Mabilia raises a brow at me in question, I pull the blankets up to her chin like I used to when she was little.

“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, printsessa,” I tell her as I lean in and kiss her forehead. Then I stand and head back towards the door.

“Thank you, Papa.” Mabilia smiles at me. “I know you don’t like him, but he’s a good guy,” she says.

“I’m never going to like any guy you date, Mabilia,” I say before walking out of her room.

“You’re doing the right thing.” Isabella catches my eye as she leans against the wall opposite Mabilia’s door.

“Am I?” I lift a questioning brow. “I’m doing it because you asked me to do it, and because I don’t like seeing her hurting. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the little punk.”

“But she loves him,” Isabella says.

“You should teach her that thing you do. The one where if you really love someone, you tie them to a bed, put a knife through their chest, and leave them to bleed out. If they come back to you, that’s how you know they love you more than anyone ever will.” I smirk.

“Mmm, fun memories.” Isabella smiles. “How about you come to bed and I’ll tie you down and have my way with you?”

“You can have your way with me,kotyonok, but there’s no way I’m letting you tie me to a bed.” I laugh.

“It was one time, Mikhail.” She sighs.

“One time too many.” I pick up my wife’s hand and lead her into our bedroom. I have a few hours before I have to leave to take Mabilia to the courthouse.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ialways knew there was a chance I’d end up here. Behind bars. I just thought it’d be for gambling, money laundering. That kind of thing. Not murder. I don’t really have a choice, though. I’m not handing Mabilia over to them on a silver platter like they want.

I’ve been questioned all fucking night. Of course I didn’t say shit. The fact that they were still questioning me without mylawyer present was a big fuckup on their part. I might only be second-year law, but I know that they’re not supposed to do that. Especially after I requested my lawyer before they started in on me again.

I didn’t open my mouth. Even when they pointed out what I was facing: life. Never getting out of a cell again. My future for hers. It’s not a hard choice.

If it were Denny in this situation, I’d tell him he was a fucking fool, throwing away his life for a girl he just met. I know I’m being reckless, stupid probably. No matter what angle I look at the situation from though, I can’t do it. I can’t put Mabilia in this chair. Cuffed, scared,helpless.

It’s not fucking happening.

Matteo came by and handed me a suit. Told me we had a bail hearing. Now, I’m sitting in a cell waiting to be taken to the courthouse. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t see any reason I wouldn’t make bail, but I’m facing murder charges here. Maybe the reality of that hasn’t fully sunk in yet. But every time I think about the future, I see her face.

I wanted to ask Matteo about her, to see how she was doing. It’s killing me not being able to talk to her. Again, it’s probably for the better. She needs to let go. I won’t have her trying to stick around if I’m locked away. I’m not giving up my life, for hers to be wasted waiting for something that’s never going to happen.

When I’m escorted into the courtroom, I stop, only to be shoved forward by the cops behind me. She’s here. Mabilia. She’s sitting with her mom and dad, right behind the defendant table, where Matteo is waiting for me. She’s been crying. She’s wearing a bunch of makeup, probably in an attempt to cover the puffiness under her eyes, but I can tell. And I don’t like it.

As soon as I sit down, I turn around. I lean back slightly and Mabilia leans forward to meet me halfway. “I don’t want you to cry over me,” I whisper in her ear.

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