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Chapter 16

Penulis: Jedidiah
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-15 07:00:00

ROSA’S POV

The silence in the house after Vicenzo left was maddening.

It wrapped around me like an old, heavy coat, suffocating in its weight and yet impossible to shrug off. The clock on the wall ticked louder than it should, every second a sharp stab to my nerves. Hadn’t I heard Mateo call my daughter’s name? What were they up to? What was going on?

What was worse was that Sofia hadn’t said a word in ten whole minutes. Which, if you knew my daughter, was practically a lifetime.

I peeked over the rim of my teacup, quietly watching her where she sat cross-leg

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  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 74

    VICENZO’S POVThe click of the hammer was louder than it should’ve been. It echoed in my skull, cold and final. My body locked up. My feet rooted to the asphalt like they were frozen in place. The only thing moving was my heartbeat—pounding fast, and hard, like a warning bell going off inside my chest.A gun. To my head. How? Is today the day I die? Another Pacino? Alive? No. No. Mateo and I had wiped them out. We had made sure. And yet… here he was. A ghost with my death between his fingers. Armani Pacino, alive and breathing. Panic surged within me, white-hot and dizzying. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I was locked in a dead end and all I could think was Sofia. I would never see her smile again and hear her call my name. Is this how I die with the last memory of my daughter being her shouting my name while her mother walked away from me? “Stop,” I choked, my voice dry, cracking in my throat. “You do

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 73

    ROSA’S POVThey all knew. They all fucking knew. And it hurt to think about it. I couldn’t cry anymore. My body had run out of tears.The room was dark except for the moonlight bleeding through the thin curtains. I sat on the edge of the bed, my arms wrapped around my knees, listening to the soft sound of Sofia’s breathing as she slept. I hadn’t told her Enzo wasn’t coming back. She knew. She could feel it in the way I hugged her tighter. But what gutted me tonight wasn’t Enzo. It wasn’t the goodbye.It was Armano. My brother. Alive.Not just alive but part of everything. He and Pietro had known. The old contacts from my father’s time, the men who still answered to the shadows of the Pacino name—they’d all known too. And not a single one of them thought I deserved the truth.They let me live like I was dead. Let me raise Sofia alone. Let me suffer.If not for Enzo, my daughter would be buried by now. That little heart of hers… I

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 72

    VICENZO’S POV The sound of their footsteps faded into the night.Rosa didn’t turn back. Not once. She hadn’t even stopped to listen to me, to hear me out. She was single minded and kept on moving even as I stood there, bleeding from the inside out, whispering her name like it could anchor her. “Rosa… Rosalinda please listen to me…” But she kept walking. Sofia was in her arms, screaming, reaching toward me with those small hands, her tiny voice shattering something deep in my chest. “Enzo mio!” There was raw pain in her voice and it was gut wrenching to listen but Rosa wouldn’t even pause for a minute. I staggered forward. “Rosa, please…for her sake, can you listen to me?” But Rosa was a machine and kept on walking, her hair flying in the wind, bouncing on her back, our daughter crying out my name, stretching out her hand for me. Sofia stretc

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 71

    ROSA’S POV The night air stung my cheeks as I hurried down the rooftop stairs, Sofia trembling and wailing in my arms. Her small fists clenched my shirt, her cries piercing through the fog that had taken over my mind. She was calling his name now, shouting for him but I couldn’t bear to look back. I couldn’t stop. Eventually, Sofia would forget him. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Mamma’s here.” But it wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. My legs moved on instinct, rushing past the guards in the shadows, past the parked cars with tinted windows, past the world I had been running from for years. Behind me, Vicenzo had crumbled to the ground. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. This was what was best, best for him, for Sofia. I wasn’t going to stay and be a part of whatever vengeance Armano had planned. I had seen it in his eyes. He wanted war, and I refused to let my daughter be a pawn. She wasn’t

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 70

    VICENZO’S POVThe wind screamed louder the higher I climbed.I took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the ache in my legs, the way the steel handrail burned cold under my palm. Salvatore had insisted we meet alone on the top of the tower on 5th, no guns, he said.I knew better. Knew Salvatore never made a move without ten guns watching from the shadows. But I came anyway. Not because I trusted him but because I didn’t trust myself if I waited and I couldn’t breathe knowing she was gone.I remembered the first time we’d met. Just after her surgery, when her eyes fluttered open. They were like the sky. Big, bright blue eyes that knocked the breath out of me.She looked at me and tilted her head. “Who are you?”I remembered freezing. Not just because even then I’d believed she was mine but because her voice was so soft.“I think I’ve dreamt of you before,” she said, scrunching her nose.Something inside me skipped. I smiled and stood up, walking closer to the bed. “I’m your mommy’s fri

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 69

    ROSA’S POVI froze. His voice echoed in my head, over and over, each word a hammer to my ribs.That’s how we get him.My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Air hissed from my lungs. My feet moved back instinctively, like my body was trying to put distance between me and this nightmare.“You leave her out of this,” I said. My voice was shaking, but the fury underneath was solid. “You hear me, Armano?”He didn’t flinch. He just tilted his head, like I was a child throwing a tantrum. His mouth curled in something that was not quite a smirk, not quite a sneer. “It’s Armani now.”“I don’t give a fuck what you call yourself,” I spat. “You come near my daughter and I swear to God, I will kill you myself.”He leaned forward slightly, folding his arms on the table, perfectly composed. “You ran for years, Rosalinda. Ran from all of this. From us. And where did you run to?” His eyes gleamed. “Into the arms of a Moretti. A prince. The son of a man who ruled the underworld in another fucking coun

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 68

    VICENZO’S POVI hated coming here. Hated walking through the compound, up those stairs. Some days I felt nauseated and on other days, it felt like I was that boy, three years ago, walking through a sea of bodies, finding my mother on the ground, her hand hacked through…I swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. I needed to see Don Alessio. I walked into my father’s office angrily, my footsteps heavy, my chest burning, my hands trembling with the urge to rip something apart. He sat there in his chair like he always did, like I knew he would be—a glass of whiskey in one hand, and that bored, disapproving look on his face. The kind that made you feel like a schoolboy, even when your hands were bloodier than his. How had

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 67

    ROSA’S POVMy legs didn’t move. My lips couldn’t form words. I just stood there, staring at the man who couldn’t possibly be real. My brother.Not just a memory. Not a ghost. He was alive and he was smiling at me like this moment wasn’t warping the very fabric of my reality. How could this be? How could he be alive? I had mourned him, mourned my other brothers and my mother…even my father. So how could he be alive? He took a step forward, then another, and before I could retreat, his arms wrapped around me. His chest was solid. Warm. His heartbeat thundered against my cheek

  • The Mafia’s Runaway Bride   Chapter 66

    ROSA’S POVThe first thing I noticed was the softness. The bed beneath me was warm, pillowy—too comfortable. Too unfamiliar. My eyes snapped open.The ceiling above me was white, high, and delicately molded with gold trim. A chandelier dangled silently above. This wasn’t my bed. This wasn’t even my home. I had been kidnapped. I was walking down the streets when I was kidnapped. I bolted upright, my heart hammering.“Hello?” I called out. “Anybody there?”No answer. Just silence, thick and heavy. I threw off the silky blanket, stumbled to my feet, and took in the room. The walls were a muted cream, the furniture dark wood; ornate, antique, expensive. Too perfect. There were no windows. Just a grand set of double doors, painted a deep forest green.I rushed to them and yanked the handle. It was locked.“No,” I breathed, pulling again, harder. “No…no…no!”I slammed my fists against the door. “LET ME OUT!”I beat on it until my knuckles stung. “WHERE AM I?” I screamed. “I NEED MY DAUGHTE

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