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124. GIULIANNA
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2025-07-31 21:33:03
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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
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 121. GIULIANNA
I didn’t scream.Didn’t move.Didn’t even blink.But my arms instinctively tightened around Sofia’s tiny frame, pulling her against my chest so fast it startled her.She looked up, wide-eyed. “Mom?”“Shh, baby,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head. “Just hold me, okay? Just stay right here.”Across the street, the man still hadn’t turned. But he didn’t need to. The posture was too calm. Too sure. He leaned casually against a postbox, phone pressed to his ear, mouth curved in the kind of smile only devils wear.He wasn’t watching. He was waiting.“Matteo,” I said, barely audible.But he was already moving.He strode to the window, scanned the street, his hand inching toward the gun at his waistband.Then he cursed under his breath. “We need to go. Now.”My throat closed. “We just got here.”“Exactly why they let us.” He turned from the window. “It’s bait. They wanted us to come. To lead them straight to her.”Sofia looked between us, confused and clutching my hair.“I don’t unders
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 120. GIULIANNA
It didn’t matter how soft Teresa’s voice was whispered, broken, barely more than a breath. The impact was a gunshot straight through my spine.Matteo froze at the top of the cellar steps. One hand still wrapped around Teresa’s shoulder, the other gripping his gun so tight I heard the leather of his glove creak. His head turned slowly toward me, and in that second, the chaos fell away.No more blood under our boots. No more ringing in my ears from the bullet that grazed past my head.No more fear of dying.Just one thing. Sofia.“Move,” I breathed, shoving past Matteo, my boots stomping over the man bleeding at the base of the stairs. I didn’t care if he was dead. I didn’t care if he was still breathing. He wasn’t the problem anymore.The problem was who else knew.We cleared the estate with the Diavlo Scuri fanning out, leaving behind bodies that wouldn’t be found for days. Matteo didn’t say a word. Neither did I. Teresa was still semi-conscious, slumped against the backseat of the SU
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 119. GIULIANNA
The drive was almost silent.Matteo kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear, eyes locked on the dark road ahead. The engine of the matte-black SUV hummed low and smooth, too quiet for the fury that boiled beneath our skin.My fingers trembled in my lap. Not from fear.From rage.From imagining Teresa's face in pain—her wrists bound, her mouth gagged, maybe her eyes bloodied from a slap she didn’t see coming.I could barely breathe.Matteo didn’t speak until we were nearly an hour from the cabin. “We’re not going in through the front.”“I didn’t think we were.” I glanced down at the blueprint he’d pulled up earlier. The abandoned vineyard outside Ravenna, once owned by a minor French family who imported Sicilian wine back in the 1800s. Sold off years ago. Empty. Private.Now a cage.He parked a full kilometer away in the woods, killing the engine and lights. Then he reached under the seat and pulled out a small velvet pouch. From it, he handed me a tiny silver ring.A blad
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