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8. GIULIANNA
Last Updated:
2025-05-22 15:47:58
ArchnemesisTEASER: On Chapter 9… How far is too far when love turns into obsession? When Giuli walks away for the last time, Matteo doesn't beg—he acts. And what happens next isn’t a plea for love—it’s an abduction disguised as devotion. Locked in a lavish manor with no escape, Giuli is forced to face the man she once loved… and the darkness he's become. Will she break free—or will she break down and fall back into his arms?
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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
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 118. GIULIANNA
The room was still. The kind of quiet that settles only after everyone has exhausted their emotions.Sofia was tucked safely in her bed, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, arms curled around her stuffed rabbit, a gift from Teresa after she went through her surgery. I paused at the doorway for a moment, just watching her. The dim light from the hallway cast a soft glow on her face, making her look so peaceful—untouched by everything that had nearly torn her world apart.When I turned to go back down the hall, Matteo was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, shirt unbuttoned and loose around his waist. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me. And God, that look alone made something deep inside me stir.“I thought you were going to sleep,” I said, brushing past him.“I was,” he said, voice low. “But then I remembered how you sounded earlier… and now, I can't stop thinking about it.”I stopped in my tracks, my spine prickling from the heat of his words.He follow
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 117. GIULIANNA
The room was dim, lit only by the moonlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains. The soft rhythm of Sofia’s breathing filled the quiet, delicate and even, like a lullaby we didn’t dare interrupt. She was curled on the far side of the bed, her tiny arm clutching the edge of her stuffed toy one that my parent's has bought her which now had a mismatched eye and all. She looked so peaceful, her chest rising and falling steadily, a small patch of gauze peeking from under her pajama sleeve.And for the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to exhale.I lay on the other side of the bed the hospital provided for watchers, half-propped against the headboard, legs drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Matteo was sitting next to me, his shoulder brushing mine, the silence between us warm—not heavy.He turned his head slightly, his eyes studying Sofia the same way I had been. “She’s okay,” he whispered, as if saying it aloud might jinx it.“She’s sleeping,” I replied quiet
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 116. GIULIANNA
The night outside was still, too still. The air in our new flat was thick with the soft hum of the heater, the only sound breaking the silence aside from Sofia’s faint, steady breathing in the other room. She was recovering, slowly but surely, and tonight was the first time in weeks I felt like I could truly exhale.I stood by the bedroom window, my fingers curled around a steaming mug of chamomile tea, staring out at the distant lights of a city I barely knew. Our escape had brought us here far from the ashes of Italy and the bloodied memories of home. Here, we were ghosts trying to be human again.I felt him before I heard him. Matteo’s presence was always a quiet storm: invisible yet impossible to ignore. His hands brushed over my waist as he came up behind me, warm and grounding. I tilted my head just enough to rest against his shoulder, sighing quietly.“She’s asleep,” he whispered, his lips grazing the edge of my jaw.I nodded, feeling his breath on my skin, every nerve beneath
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 115. GIULIANNA
It was a quiet kind of miracle.The machines beeped steadily in the background, the IV line hanging like a lifeline from the hook above her bed, and Sofia, our daughter, our warrior lay there with her tiny chest rising and falling under the pale blue sheets. It had only been four days since the transplant. Four days since I last remembered how to breathe without the taste of panic on my tongue. And even now, as I sat by her side and brushed my fingers through her curls, I still found myself waiting for something to go wrong.But for the first time in what felt like forever… nothing did.Matteo stood behind me, his arms crossed, leaning against the far wall of the hospital room, but I could feel his presence like gravity. He hadn’t left this room unless someone forced him to, not even to eat properly. His face was drawn and unshaven, eyes shadowed by the sleepless nights we both endured—but when his gaze landed on Sofia, there was a softness there that gutted me.“She’s warm,” I whispe
His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim 114. GIULIANNA
The world slowed to a lull, like the silence after a storm that nearly claimed everything.I stood just outside Sofia’s recovery room, staring blankly at the pale blue tiles of the corridor floor, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to my nostrils like a weight I couldn’t shake off. The ticking of the wall clock felt louder than the gentle beeping from Sofia’s monitors behind the door. Each tick a reminder that time had not stopped… even if I had.Matteo was inside with her, seated on the far side of the bed, fingers brushing over the back of her hand like a prayer. He hadn’t left her side since the surgery ended. Not even once. Not to sleep. Not to eat. And somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to either.I finally gathered the courage to push the door open.The scent of antiseptic hit stronger in the room. Sofia looked smaller than ever under the hospital blankets. Her skin was pallid but her lips—God, her lips had color again. Her chest rose and fell, slower than I was used to, b
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