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My mother's diary 2
Last Updated:
2025-12-22 20:41:54
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Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets My mother's diary 2
~ELENAI wipe my tears and continue reading my mom's diary.The next pages are lighter. The handwriting loosens, becomes softer, almost hopeful.I take a deep breath before reading.I went out tonight.For the first time in years, I went out not to escape my life, but to feel alive.The club was loud. Too loud. The music throbbed through my bones. I drank more than I should have. I wanted the noise to drown my thoughts. I wanted to forget Victor. Forget the bruises. Forget the emptiness waiting for me at home.My heart pounds and my chest tightens painfully.A group of men noticed me.They laughed too loudly. Stood too close. One of them grabbed my wrist and said things that made my skin crawl. I told them to leave me alone. They didn’t listen.I was drunk. Weak. Scared. Then he appeared.My fingers dig into the pages.His name is Lorenzo Romano.He stepped between us like a wall. Tall. Calm. Deadly quiet. His voice was low but firm when he told them to leave.
Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets My mother's diary
~ELENA~I turn the frame over and my heart stops.A folded piece of paper is taped to the back.My hands shake as I peel it off and unfold it.Her handwriting greets me. Elegant. Slightly slanted. Alive.Elena, my sweet daughter,If you ever happen to come across this note, I must be dead by then.A sob rips out of my chest.My knees buckle, and I sink onto the edge of the bed, clutching the letter as my tears blur the words.I am sorry for not showing you enough motherly love. I didn’t mean to—but I didn’t know how to show enough love when I couldn’t even love myself properly or understand what it truly meant.My vision floods.“I understand,” I cry. “I do.”But just know that I love you so much. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m sorry for making you go through a lot. I am sorry for not choosing the right father for you. I am sorry for making your childhood miserable and sending you far away. I am also sorry for forcing you to come back her
Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets In my mother's room
~ELENA~The morgue is colder than death itselfNot just the temperature—but the kind of cold that crawls under your skin and settles in your bones.The moment I step inside, my knees threaten to give out. White walls. White floors. White sheets. Everything feels wrong. Too clean for death. Too quiet for grief. Everything smells like chemicals and loss. My heart starts pounding wildly as the attendant pulls back the sheet.And there she is.My mother.She looks smaller than I remember. Paler. So still it feels wrong….unnatural. My breath leaves in a broken gasp.“Mom…” My voice comes out as a broken whisper.I step closer slowly, like I’m afraid she’ll vanish if I move too fast.Then I see the bruises.Dark marks bloom along her arms. Faint discoloration at her neck. Her face is peaceful, but her body tells a different story.My chest caves in.“No…” I choke.I reach out with trembling fingers and touch her hand.Cold. Too cold.A sob rips out of me before I
Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets Do what you came for
~SEVEN DAYS AGO~The night bleeds silence.The phone rings while Lorenzo sits in his study, half a glass of scotch untouched before him. The lamp burns low, painting gold on the papers scattered across his desk. He doesn’t even flinch when the phone vibrates….only glances at the name flashing on the screen.Matteo…One of his boys.He lifts the phone to his ear, voice calm and measured. “Yes.”A pause follows….. too long, too heavy.“Boss…” Matteo’s voice cracks. “It’s… it’s Donna Isabella.”Lorenzo straightens slowly. “What about her?”“There was an ambush on the highway. Two black SUVs, unmarked. We fought back, but….” Matteo swallows. “Her car got hit by a trailer and it got crushed.”The world stills.Lorenzo doesn’t speak. Doesn’t breathe. He just stares into the dim light, expression unreadable.Matteo continues, voice trembling. “It looks like a hit from the Bianchi men. I’m sorry, Boss. We….”The line goes dead.Lorenzo lowers the phone, his reflection trembling in the glass
Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets Returning back to Florence
~ELENA~Two days now and I can't stop thinking about my mom. I miss her so much. So so much that it hurts so bad.I thought I will be fine but I'm realizing that grief doesn’t leave all at once.It stays. It settles into my bones like winter, turning everything cold and slow and heavy.This is the second time I'm feeling this way. First was when my dad died, and now it's my mom.I'm really now an orphan. A girl without no parents.Days pass….at least I think they do. Time has stopped making sense. Morning looks the same as night. Food tastes like nothing. Voices sound distant, like they’re coming from another world I no longer belong to.I barely speak. I barely move.My stepbrothers hover around me like shadows….watching, worrying, whispering when they think I can’t hear. They try to make me eat. Try to distract me. Try to pull me back into a world that no longer has my mother in it.Nothing works.I sit by the window in my room most of the time, knees pulled
Triplet Temptation: My stepbrothers are triplets My mother is gone
~ELENA~“Open the door,” Vincenzo commands. It isn't directed to anyone in particular, but Riccardo walks towards the door.He opens the door, and I see that Vincenzo is right.One of Lorenzo’s men stands there….Marco, the tall one with the scar across his jaw. But this time, he looks… pale. His hands tremble slightly as he removes his cap.Riccardo’s voice is low, sharp. “What is it? Where are you here so early in the morning? Is Father aware of the fact that you're here?” “Yes. I was sent by the boss,” he says, voice cold. I stand, staring curiously at the man in black who is still standing at the door.He doesn’t need to come inside.“Speak up, Marco. Why are you here?” Vincenzo's voice booms. “There’s been… an incident,” the man says quietly. “It happened two nights ago.”“What is the incident all about?” Nico asks.Marco swallows hard, his eyes flicking toward me before he answers. “It’s your mother,” he says quietly. “Donna Isabella.”The word slices
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