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105. GIULIANNA

Penulis: Archnemesis
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-24 19:26:26

The silence between us stretched long after the sun had risen. It crept across the sky with its pale, broken gold, like the world had decided to keep its voice low out of respect for everything we had just learned. Or maybe in fear.

I didn’t know how long Matteo and I stood there, fingers interlaced, his grip like steel around my bones, grounding me. Maybe it was minutes. Maybe a lifetime.

Inside the clubhouse, I could still hear the occasional clink of Enzo shifting things around, the soft creak of the old cot as Teresa adjusted herself. But beyond that, it was too quiet. And the quiet didn’t sit right with me.

"They’ll come," Matteo finally said, jaw tight. "Rossi's men. They know she’s here. They’ll come to finish it."

I nodded, the weight of it pressing down like the ceiling had dropped a few inches lower.

We went back inside together. There was no use pretending we were safe. We had Enzo, a few weapons, and some barricades. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

When we walked in, Enzo s
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  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   131. GIULIANNA

    It was raining again.The kind of rain that made everything feel heavier—like the sky itself was mourning with me. I sat in the hospital’s garden, the plastic chair cold and slick beneath me, the hood of my sweater pulled up even though it didn’t do much to keep the water off my face. I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my cheeks was rain… or the tears I’d run out of days ago.Three weeks.Three weeks of sterile white walls, slow beeping monitors, and words I never wanted to learn.Three weeks of watching my mother float somewhere I couldn’t reach—trapped in a body that no longer held her.And now they wanted me to choose."Let her rest.", "She wouldn’t want this.", "She’s gone, Giulianna."They said her brain was already dead. That the machines were just pretending. Just moving her lungs up and down like clockwork, pumping blood through a heart that no longer understood why it beat.They didn’t see her fingers twitch.They didn’t feel her warmth when I held her hand.They didn’t sit be

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   130. GIULIANNA

    It had been nineteen days.Nineteen days of white walls and fluorescent lighting and beeping machines that never shut the hell up.Nineteen days of whispered prayers I didn’t believe in and cold coffee cups and doctors who couldn’t meet my eyes.And now they were saying she was gone. Not dead. But gone."Brain death is irreversible," the neurologist said, his voice flat, rehearsed. “The scans are clear. There’s no cortical activity. No response to stimuli. Her brain stem is functioning only enough to regulate her heartbeat. She’s on full life support, Giulianna. The machines are doing everything now.”I heard the words, but I couldn’t seem to process them. They just floated in the sterile air like smoke I couldn’t grab.Matteo was beside me, his hand clamped around mine. He hadn’t let go since we walked into the ICU that morning.Everyone else was already outside.The doctors. The nurses. My aunts and uncles who had flown in and were now sitting in the waiting area whispering behind t

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   129. GIULIANNA

    The hospital in Verona smelled like antiseptic and roses, fake ones, wilting in a dusty vase at the check-in desk. The contrast made my stomach churn.Matteo hadn’t let go of my hand since we parked. Not when the nurse clipped on my visitor ID. Not when we passed sterile white walls and ghost-silent corridors filled with echoes of footsteps that didn’t belong to the living. And definitely not when the nurse finally stopped in front of the ICU room.“She’s stable,” she said gently. “But heavily sedated. We’re keeping her under strict observation. Only one visitor at a time, five minutes.”I nodded, but I didn’t move.Matteo didn’t say anything. He just slowly unhooked our hands and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “Go.”I stepped inside.My mother didn’t look like my mother.The woman in the hospital bed was thin, colorless, her cheeks sunken in ways I didn’t remember. Tubes ran from her arms and nose, machines blinking softly around her, murmuring sounds I couldn’t decipher. Her

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   128. GIULIANNA

    Enzo’s gaze darted toward me, pausing for just a flicker. It wasn’t judgment I saw in his eyes—it was something closer to worry. Regret. He looked like a man who didn’t want to be the bearer of whatever news he carried. And that alone made my stomach twist into something cold.Matteo’s grip tightened on my waist.“What’s going on?” he asked, tone clipped, wary.Enzo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned slightly to the side, and behind him stepped two people I hadn’t seen in almost a decade—but would’ve recognized even in my sleep.Matteo’s parents. The storm and the sun.His father looked like an older, war-hardened version of him but just broad frame, clean-cut beard, eyes sharp and assessing, as if he was always three steps ahead. His mom was smaller than I remembered, but still carried the kind of elegance you couldn’t fake. She wore her age like armor—pearls at her throat, a fitted navy coat, and that expression… the one women used when they were quietly bracing for chaos.

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   127. GIULIANNA

    Matteo was still asleep when I slipped out of bed.His arm dropped lazily to the mattress the moment I moved, fingers twitching once like he was reaching for something in a dream. Or maybe for me.I stood naked in the warm quiet of the cabin, wrapped in sunlight and the ache between my legs. His scent clung to my skin—musky, raw, male. It lingered on my neck, between my thighs, on my lips. I would've felt dirty if he was Emanuele. But he isn't and I felt claimed.No... worse.I felt wanted.And that was always more dangerous.I pulled on one of his shirts that was draped over a chair—it smelled like him, looked too big on me, and when I passed the mirror in the hall, I hated how much it made me look like I belonged.The kitchen was small. Warm wood. Dark counters. Quiet save for the ticking of a clock and the groan of old pipes when I turned on the faucet.I made coffee.I don’t even know why.Habit, maybe. Or some desperate attempt to pretend what we’d done last night didn’t still li

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   126. GIULIANNA

    I didn’t know what made me snap first—the way his eyes lingered at the curve of my lips, the roughness in his voice, or maybe the slow drag of his gaze down my body like he was already imagining what I’d feel like again under him.Whatever it was, it undid me.And the second I moved, so did he.Matteo pushed me back against the bedroom wall like he’d been waiting years to do it again. His body pressed against mine—hot, solid, too real—and his breath hitched when I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer."Fuck, Giuli..." he groaned against my throat, voice low and ruined. "You have no idea what you do to me."His hands roamed down my sides, greedy and rough, until they settled on my hips. He tilted his head, eyes dark and wild with want. "I should be gentle with you, shouldn’t I?" he muttered against my skin. "After everything... but fuck, baby, I don’t think I can be."My breath caught when he shoved my leg up to his waist and gripped my thigh hard, grinding against me li

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