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108. GIULIANNA

Penulis: Archnemesis
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-07-25 22:21:22

A few months had passed since the last time someone tried. A few months of quiet. A few months of pretending like we weren’t just waiting for another storm.

I stood by the balcony, the old wood creaking under my bare feet, the wind brushing my hair back. The sea was calm today—almost glass. Matteo sat behind me in the small living room, his cigarette slowly burning between two fingers as he stared at the fireplace that was never lit. I knew he was thinking. He only smoked when his thoughts got too loud.

Inside, Teresa and I had started bonding—strangely, naturally. It happened in the smallest ways: brushing our teeth together at night, folding Sofia’s clothes side by side, rolling our eyes at Matteo’s mood swings. It was strange to think she once held a knife to my throat.

Now, we talked about baby names and cravings. She was months along and already looked soft around the edges, often rolling her eyes at how easily winded she got.

But today wasn’t about her.

“Matteo,” I called out ge
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  • 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

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   125. GIULIANNA

    The rain hadn’t stopped since last night. It whispered against the windows like a secret the world was trying to keep from us, one soft drop at a time. And yet, within the heavy silence of our home, there was a storm far louder than anything outside. I stood frozen near the edge of our dining table, eyes glued to the bundle Matteo had carried inside just hours ago—the baby. She was still asleep, small and warm inside that pink fleece blanket, her tiny lips slightly parted like she was dreaming of a world better than the one she was born into. A world that hadn't already stolen her mother. I clutched the crumpled note in my hand until the paper nearly tore. Matteo had read it first. His jaw clenched, brows drawn in that way that made his pain unreadable—except to me. He’d only said one sentence after picking up the note that had been taped to the baby’s blanket: “They killed Teresa.” That name still echoed in my head like a scream caught between disbelief and grief. Teresa. Gone

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   124. GIULIANNA

    The house was too quiet.Even with Sofia fast asleep in her room, even with the new baby nestled in her blanket, that silence…it wasn't peace. It was tension wrapped in stillness. It was the kind of silence that held its breath.I stood by the kitchen sink, watching Matteo from afar as he held the baby in his arms. The little girl hadn’t stirred since we brought her in. Her cheeks were still rosy from the cold night, but her breathing—steady and slow—proved she was warm now. Safe. For now.Matteo had changed her into one of Sofia’s old onesies. I remember folding that same fabric two years ago, laughing to myself about how tiny it was. And now, it was holding another child… a child left on our doorstep like a secret someone hoped we'd never uncover."She’s out cold,” Matteo whispered, eyes still locked on the baby as he walked toward me. “Didn’t even wake up when I changed her diaper.”I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. I hadn’t stopped shivering. Not from the cold—but from eve

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   123. GIULIANNA

    The silence inside the house was unnaturally thick—like the air itself was holding its breath.I stood frozen near the foot of the stairs, one hand still resting on Sofia’s bedroom doorframe. My chest rose and fell with slow, shallow breaths, ears straining to hear what Matteo had seen… or not seen. The knock had been too harsh, too deliberate, too laced with something ugly to be nothing.Then I heard him.“Giuli…” Matteo’s voice broke—just slightly, like something inside him had cracked.I was already moving before he said another word.The wooden floor felt colder than usual under my bare feet. I padded down the stairs quickly, rounding the corner and reaching the open front door where Matteo stood in the dim porch light—completely still. In his arms was a baby wrapped in a white, almost ivory-colored blanket. Her skin was pale and flushed from the evening air, tiny fists curled up near her cheeks, lips parted in a soft, rhythmic breath.She was asleep.Sound asleep.And she looked…

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   122. GIULIANNA

    Six months had passed. Half a year since what happened. Since the cellar. Since the whisper that changed everything, "They know she’s alive." Time didn’t heal everything. But it softened some things. We’d buried the chaos in layers of stillness. Moved to the edge of the world—a gray-stone cottage nestled in the fog-drenched woods of northern Scotland. Surrounded by rolling green hills, ancient trees, and skies that stayed overcast more often than not. It wasn’t a life of laughter and light. But it was safe. And for us, that was enough. Sofia thrived in it. The quiet. The space. The simplicity. She stopped flinching at loud sounds. Her appetite returned. The limp that once haunted her steps was now just a memory. The first time I heard her humming again—alone, in her room, drawing on the wooden floor with broken crayons—I nearly broke down on the stairs. She was healing. So Matteo and I tried to, too. Some nights, he still jolted awake, breath ragged, reaching for a gun that

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