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127. GIULIANNA
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2025-08-03 23:33:49
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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
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
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