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185 Days Bound To The Mafia Lord 106
Aspen I woke up to pain before I woke up to fear.It lived behind my eyes at first, a heavy pressure that made me groan softly as consciousness crept back in. My mouth felt dry and bitter, like I had swallowed something poisonous. When I tried to move, sharp pain sliced through my wrists and I gasped, the sound breaking out of me before I could stop it.My hands were bound behind my back.Not loosely. Tight. Too tight. The rope or cable bit into my skin, cutting circulation, making my fingers tingle and burn at the same time. My ankles were restrained too, forcing my legs into an uncomfortable angle that made my hips ache. I was seated on something hard and unforgiving. A chair. Cold enough that I could feel it through my clothes.My heart began to pound violently.“No,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar. “No no no.”The smell came next. Damp concrete. Metal. Old oil. Something sour in the air that made my stomach turn. I swallowed hard and gagged when nausea rolled through
185 Days Bound To The Mafia Lord 105
Aspenhad told myself it would be a simple trip. Just a short ride from my mother’s house to the matrimonial home, a routine journey I had made countless times before, and yet today, my stomach refused to settle. Every flutter of nerves reminded me that life had a way of turning the mundane into the catastrophic. Clear had fussed over me as I locked the door, her hand lingering over mine for a moment longer than usual, and I had smiled weakly, brushing off the unease that had been gnawing at my chest all morning.The Uber arrived early, pulling up with the soft hum of the engine. I slipped into the backseat, the leather cold against my skin. The driver, a man I did not recognize, gave a polite nod but did not speak much. I had been on autopilot, scrolling through my phone to distract myself, trying to calm the flutter in my stomach.Killian called just as I buckled my seatbelt. The phone rang in my hand, and I swiped to answer, relief flooding me at the sound of his voice.“Aspen?” Hi
185 Days Bound To The Mafia Lord 104
Aspen The house felt alive in a way I had never imagined it could. Light poured through the tall windows, spilling across the polished floors and bouncing off the cream-colored walls. After everything—the hospital, the fainting spell, the tension with Mother—the weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt a little lighter. I took a deep breath, letting it expand slowly, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself feel the space, the quiet warmth of a home finally ours.Mother was already in the kitchen, moving slowly but with an energy I hadn’t expected. Even after all the arguments, all the years of feeling second to Clear, she had a presence that filled the room in a comforting way. Her eyes met mine briefly, and she smiled—a small, genuine smile. That alone made my chest unclench, and I felt a wave of relief.“Good morning,” I said softly, letting my voice carry into the room.“Good morning, Aspen,” she replied, her tone lighter than it had been in years. She
185 Days Bound To The Mafia Lord 103
Aspen The morning was quiet, almost unnervingly so. I woke to the soft hum of the mansion, sunlight filtering through the curtains in golden streams across the floor. The faint flutter in my stomach reminded me that the fainting spell from the other night was more than just exhaustion. I pressed my hand against it briefly and forced myself to sit up, ignoring the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake me. I had to be strong today. For myself, for Clear, and for the fragile thread connecting my relationship with my mother.Clear had already been up, I could tell from the faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen. She had prepared breakfast, and from the smell drifting into the bedroom, she had done more than just make toast. I took a deep breath, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and forced myself to stand. My knees wobbled slightly, but I ignored it, focusing on the plan for today.We were returning to the hospital. Mother was being discharged. I had rehearsed what I would say
185 Days Bound To The Mafia Lord 102
Aspen The ride home from the hospital had been quiet. Clear drove, her hands steady on the wheel, her eyes occasionally flicking toward me with concern I tried not to acknowledge. My body felt heavier than it should have, my stomach fluttering in a way that made me press a hand against it and wonder if I could survive the next few hours without losing control.The confrontation with my mother had left me raw, exposed, and shaking. Every insult, every dismissive glance, every comment about Clear being the better daughter replayed in my head. I had yelled. I had forced the words out of me that I had carried for years, but the emotional toll was enormous. My muscles ached, my chest felt tight, and the fluttering in my stomach refused to settle.Clear’s hand brushed against mine once, soft and grounding. “Aspen, breathe,” she said gently. “We are almost home. Just a few minutes.”I nodded, forcing my lips into a smile I knew was weak. “I know. I’m okay,” I whispered, though even I did no
185 Days Bound To The Mafia Lord 101
The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor made my head ache almost immediately. I tried to ignore it, gripping the small bag Clear had handed me. The smell of antiseptic and faint, underlying illness clung to the air like a permanent reminder that this was not a place for comfort. My stomach fluttered uneasily, but it wasn’t just the physical discomfort gnawing at me. It was everything else—the tension I had carried for years, the frustration, the pain of feeling invisible to someone who was supposed to be my mother.Clear walked beside me, quiet and steady as always. Her hand brushed mine once, a soft, grounding touch, but I barely acknowledged it. My mind was elsewhere. Focused. Determined.My mother’s hospital room came into view. I could see her reclining slightly in the bed, looking perfectly calm, perfectly indifferent. Her eyes flicked toward us as we entered, and I felt that familiar knot tighten in my chest. The one I had carried for years. The one that had never truly
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