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65. MATTEO
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2025-06-22 22:30:02
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His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 70. GIULIANNA
The wind had never felt so sharp.It had teeth, tearing through my dress and skin like paper as we roared down the winding country roads. Matteo's body was solid against mine, a shield, a furnace of adrenaline and muscle I clung to with everything I had. His back rose and fell beneath my palms, steady as the chaos behind us tried to catch up. My heart was in my throat, beating so loud I thought it would drown out the engine's scream.Sofia’s scream echoed louder.She had been hit.I couldn’t stop shaking. My lungs burned with every breath as we raced toward the one place we might be safe for now despite me having doubts at it first, the old Diavlo Scuri clubhouse. Matteo had one hand on the throttle, the other gripping his gun as we careened around every sharp bend and blind curve. Behind us, I could hear the rest of the crew. Enzo’s voice tight and panicked, Crow shouting directions into the wind, Angelo cursing under his breath.Sofia’s blood had soaked through the lace of her flowe
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 69. MATTEO
The wind was sharp against my face as we ripped down the country road, the thunder of Matteo’s bike vibrating through my bones. My arms were locked tightly around his waist, my cheek pressed to the leather of his jacket, heart still galloping from the chaos we’d left behind. It should’ve felt terrifying, riding into the unknown with the echoes of gasps and gunfire in our wake. But it didn’t. It felt like freedom.The sun was bleeding into the horizon, streaks of orange and violet painting the sky as we wove through winding roads and stretches of open fields. Behind us, the rest of the crew followed like black hounds in formation. Enzo had Sofia, and I could see her tiny form nestled into him, arms wrapped around his chest, her dark curls fluttering in the breeze. She was safe. For now.Matteo’s grip on the handlebars was firm, controlled, like he was part of the machine itself. Every movement he made was calculated, he leaned just enough into the curves, accelerated in bursts, always
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 68. MATTEO
The first thing I heard was the music, it was elegant, delicate strings floating through the air like a lullaby before the slaughter. The kind of sound meant to mask fear. To dress up cruelty in a tuxedo and call it tradition. Then came the scent of roses, hundreds of them, thick and sweet, trying to bury the rot underneath this entire event. The smell of old money. Of power draped in white.And then I saw her.Giulianna.Frozen halfway down the aisle, like a goddess bound in silk and shame. Her gown shimmered under the afternoon sun, but she looked like she was walking to her own execution. My throat burned at the sight of her. I could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the tremble in her jaw, the way her father’s grip on her arm wasn’t guidance, it was ownership. Every step she took felt like a betrayal of who she was. But she kept walking. Because that’s what they wanted her to do.Not anymore.The growl of our engines shattered the hush.We didn’t roll in quietly. We didn’t slip
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 67. MATTEO
We didn’t just ride into hell, we stalked it first.The estate was a sprawling lie stretched over acres of manicured deceit. Golden gates loomed at the front, iron wrought like a crown of arrogance. But I knew better than to go through the front. A place like this wasn’t built without cracks. Weakness. And I’d memorized every one of them.At the break of dawn, we killed the engines a mile away from the property, hidden by thick woods and the sharp curve of a hillside. Fog rolled low across the grass, curling like smoke between the trees, shrouding us in shadow. Perfect.We moved on foot first, splitting into units like phantoms through the trees. I led point, Crow at my flank, Enzo covering rear. Each man was silence incarnate. No unnecessary movements, no wasted breath. We slipped between branches and over fences like wolves on a hunt, boots silent against the soil. I’d studied the blueprints of the estate like scripture. I knew the shift changes, the dead zones in camera coverage, t
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 66. MATTEO
The road was a blur beneath our tires—black and endless, a winding vein of fury cut into the earth. My fists gripped the handlebars like they were the neck of the man I wanted to kill. I didn’t feel the wind anymore. I didn’t hear the growl of the engine beneath me. All I felt was fire.The thought of that Emanuele fucking Rossi laying his hands on her made something primal in me snap. I imagined his mouth on her skin, and bile clawed its way up my throat. I imagined her eyes wide with fear, her lips trembling as he whispered lies into her ear and slid filth across her soul.He didn’t just touch her. He violated her in every possible way. and I'd be damned if I don't make him pay.He crawled into her head, her past, her guilt, and he licked the blood left behind by men like him and claimed it as love. But I knew what he’d done. I’d seen the change in her. The hollow in her stare. The stiffness in her shoulders. I could still smell his rot on her breath the night she moaned my name und
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 65. MATTEO
The compound was still smoking from the heat of our last meeting, but I wasn’t done. Not even close. Rage didn’t sleep, and neither did I. I couldn’t. Not while she was out there, trapped in silk and delusion, preparing to bind herself to a man who didn’t deserve the dirt beneath her heels. A man who wore his father's name like a crown and carried his sins in a polished smile.If Emanuele Rossi thought he could take her from me, he was fucking wrong.Because I wasn’t just showing up to ruin a wedding I was preparing for a goddamn war that might break the moment I stepped into their territory. Too bad, I'm taking that war in the streets where I do best.I stormed into the basement, slamming the metal door so hard the hinges screamed. The lights flickered overhead, casting a yellow hue over the walls lined with steel and firepower. My boots echoed across the concrete floor, heavy with purpose, soaked in fury. I moved like a man possessed because I was. Possessed by her scent, by the sou
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