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91. GIULIANNA

Author: Archnemesis
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-09 23:28:50

His scent still clung to my skin like a cologne, smoke, sweat, sex and I wanted to bottle it, memorize it. He hadn’t let go of me once during the night. Even in sleep, his fingers were tangled in mine, his leg draped over mine like his body refused to believe I was real again.

I turned slowly, careful not to wake him.

His face was softer in the light. Less sharp, less haunted. He looked young here—almost boyish. Like the man I first fell for before the blood and the betrayals, before the family wars and the heartbreak. His lashes were thick and dark, resting against his cheeks, and his lips were slightly parted. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, and I smiled.

He looked at peace.

And God, did he deserve it.

My fingertips brushed lightly over the scar that curved just beneath his collarbone. I remembered that one. I had stitched it myself years ago, swearing through tears that he’d never put himself in danger again. But he had. He always did. For me. For Sofia. For the peopl
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  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   97. MATTEO

    Still intact. I exhaled, breath fogging the air. I’d been preparing since the night Giuli let me back into that house. Since I held her in front of the fire, her body arching into mine like a lifeline. Since I kissed her and tasted everything I thought I’d lost. I knew peace wouldn’t last. I just didn’t think it’d come unraveled this fast. A twig snapped behind me. Not loud—but close. I straightened slowly, hand instinctively going for the switchblade in my coat pocket. My ears honed in. A breath. Another step. “Thought I taught you to walk quieter,” I murmured. Enzo’s voice answered behind me, winded. “You did.” I turned to find him leaning against a tree, scarf half-wrapped around his neck, a flask in hand. He took a long swig and offered it to me. “Whiskey. You look like you need it.” I took it, not because I wanted it, but because we both knew what was coming. And fire was better than fear. “You follow me out here just to babysit?” I asked, handing it back. “No,” he s

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   96. MATTEO

    Dawn came slow. Like it didn’t want to witness what the night left behind. The snow had thinned, just a dusting across the porch, not enough to cover the boot prints I left hours ago. I stood at the edge of the tree line, cigarette between my fingers, smoke curling around my jaw as my eyes scanned the horizon. Stillness. The kind that hides teeth. Behind me, the house sat like a painting, warm yellow windows, the faint silhouette of Giuli moving in the kitchen. Sofia’s laughter echoed from inside, and for a second, just a second, I wanted to believe we were safe. But safety was a lie I couldn’t afford anymore. I took one last drag and crushed the ember under my heel. Then I walked to the treehouse. Enzo was already up, sitting cross-legged on the floor with an old radio set spread out in front of him. He didn’t look surprised when I climbed the ladder and ducked in. Just passed me a black thermos. “Coffee,” he muttered. “Stronger than regret.” I snorted, took a s

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   95. GIULIANNA

    Matteo looked at me then. Fully. And the expression on his face… it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t guilt. It was something rawer than either helplessness. A kind of ache I hadn’t seen in him since the first night we ran. “I can’t lose you again,” he said. “You won’t,” I told him. “But you have to stop keeping me in the dark.” He walked toward me slowly, each step heavier than the last, until he stopped beside my chair. He crouched down in front of me, resting his hands on my knees. His thumb brushed the inside of my leg like he wasn’t even thinking about it just needed to touch something real. “I didn’t tell you because if it is him… I’m not sure what I’ll become. And I didn’t want you to see that.” I cupped his face without thinking, fingers trembling slightly against the stubble on his jaw. “I’ve seen you at your worst, Matteo. You don’t have to hide from me.” He leaned into my touch. Eyes closed. Breathed me in like he needed it to stay steady. Then: “I don’t care if I have to burn

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   94. GIULIANNA

    The name hit me like a cold ripple in my chest. From the deck, I saw Matteo stiffen slightly, his hand lowering. His eyes narrowed, face shadowed now under the porch light. “Why are you bringing him up?” “I wasn’t gonna,” Enzo muttered. “Not tonight. But the thing is... he’s been seen. Or someone who looks a hell of a lot like him.” My heart dropped. Matteo leaned in, elbow to his knee, suddenly far too still. “Where?” “South. Old winery road.” Enzo said, voice quieter now. “Couple weeks ago. Not confirmed but some of the old gang who left after the fallout, they’ve been whispering.” “You sure?” “No,” Enzo admitted. “But it’s not just talk anymore. Someone’s been asking about Giuli. And Sofia.” My breath caught. A beat passed. Matteo’s jaw flexed. His knuckles whitened around the cigarette until he flicked it away, uncaring where the embers scattered. I could only watch from the window, frozen. Listening. Wanting to storm outside and demand answers but knowing if I did, Mat

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   93. GIULIANNA

    I slipped out of bed and threw on one of Matteo’s button-downs from the floor, the fabric swallowing me whole. My legs were bare, but I didn’t care. My feet padded softly over the wooden floors, following the sound of giggles down the hallway. When I reached the kitchen, the sight made my heart twist. Matteo stood barefoot in front of the stove, shirtless, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. Sofia sat on the counter beside him, holding a small wooden spoon like it was a wand, her hair still a mess of soft curls from sleep. He cracked an egg one-handed while guiding hers with the other, his voice low and patient. “Good. Now stir gently, principessa. Not too fast. We don’t want flying yolks.” “I’m a chef now!” Sofia beamed proudly. Matteo grinned, eyes crinkling. “The best one I’ve ever had.” She giggled again and accidentally knocked over the pepper shaker. Ground black pepper spilled across the counter like confetti. “Oops,” she whispered. Matteo laughed. “Every g

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   92. GIULIANNA

    The house was quiet again. Sofia had fallen asleep the moment her head touched the pillo curled beneath Matteo’s old hoodie, her tiny hand still clutching the stuffed rabbit she never let go of since she was a baby. The day had drained her. Emotionally. Physically. But she went to bed with a smile on her face and peace in her chest. I stood by the bedroom door for a while, just watching her breathe. Matteo lingered near the foot of the bed, kneeling as if in prayer, his fingers gently brushing Sofia’s curls from her forehead. I watched the way his lips moved—murmuring something too low to catch. Maybe a promise. Maybe a thank-you to whatever higher power gave him back his little girl. When he finally stood, he turned to me but didn’t speak. He just opened his hand. I slid mine into it. No words were needed. Not now. We stepped out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind us. The hallway was dim, lit only by the soft amber glow of the kitchen lamp. Outside, the

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