Page 99 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
The events of the previous night played in my mind like a vivid dream: the confessions, revelations, and passion. Beside me, Lorenzo’s rhythmic breathing was comforting and peaceful.
Slipping out of bed carefully to avoid waking him, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. My heart skipped a beat when I noticed several missed calls from Luca. Panic surged through me. I needed to let him know about Lorenzo’s innocence. Dialing his number, I pressed the phone to my ear, only to be met with a monotonous beep. His line was dead.
Frowning, I tried the house line. It went straight to voicemail. A sense of unease settled over me. Taking a deep breath, I left a message, my voice trembling slightly.
Something felt off. Not just off—wrong. The kind of wrong that makes your stomach twist before your brain even catches up. My heart was already racing, like it knew something I didn’t.
I tried again. Still nothing. I pressed the home line again, clinging to some hope. It went straight to voicemail. I left yet another message, my voice shaky.
“Luca, it’s Maria. Lorenzo didn’t do it. I have proof. I’m coming home. Right now.”
I would have woken Lorenzo up to tell him about this nudging feeling inside of me, but he would have insisted on going with me, and his relationship with Luca right now isn’t quite rosy. I would just save myself the extra drama and go alone and text him when I am home.
There was no time to waste. I threw on yesterday’s jeans and a hoodie, grabbed my bag, and bolted out the door. The streets were still sleepy.
Even the sun looked confused, peeking out like it wasn’t sure if it should bother. I parked a few houses down and walked the rest of the way. There was no reason, really. Maybe it was a gut feeling. Maybe paranoia. Maybe both.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
The second I stepped in, something snapped. I saw a figure move out of the corner of my eye, and before I could scream, an arm locked around my waist.
Enrico.
I began to type on my phone before he yanked my hands even harder. My phone dropped. My mouth was covered. I kicked, I flailed, God, I fought. But he was too strong.
I saw his face for half a second before everything faded into black.
When I came to, my head throbbed like a drumline had set up in my skull. Cold concrete was against my back. The air was damp with a faint scent of rust and mold. I blinked up at the flickering lightbulb above me, the kind that buzzed like it had a grudge against silence.
“Mama?” a voice whispered in a shaky tone.
Matteo. He looked frightened, unlike I had ever seen him before.
I shot up, my body screaming in protest.
“Matteo! Baby! Are you okay?”
He nodded, crawling into my arms. I hugged him tight like I could shield him from everything. Like, maybe I could.
“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”
He shook his head. “I was scared. I woke up here. Then I saw you.”
God. My heart.
I kissed his forehead, breathing in his scent, still sweet and warm. How could someone bring a child into this madness?
Then came the slow clap.
Enrico stepped from the shadows, looking like the devil stepped out of a wine ad. His suit was immaculate. His smile wasn’t.
“Family reunions. So touching.”
I stood, shielding Matteo. My voice was low and firm. “Let us go.”
He chuckled. “You always did have a flair for drama. Just like your father.”
My stomach dropped.
