Semua Bab His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim: Bab 131 - Bab 140

It was raining again.The kind of rain that made everything feel heavier—like the sky itself was mourning with me. I sat in the hospital’s garden, the plastic chair cold and slick beneath me, the hood of my sweater pulled up even though it didn’t do much to keep the water off my face. I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my cheeks was rain… or the tears I’d run out of days ago.Three weeks.Three weeks of sterile white walls, slow beeping monitors, and words I never wanted to learn.Three weeks of watching my mother float somewhere I couldn’t reach—trapped in a body that no longer held her.And now they wanted me to choose."Let her rest.", "She wouldn’t want this.", "She’s gone, Giulianna."They said her brain was already dead. That the machines were just pretending. Just moving her lungs up and down like clockwork, pumping blood through a heart that no longer understood why it beat.They didn’t see her fingers twitch.They didn’t feel her warmth when I held her hand.They didn’t sit be

The gates of Villa Bianchi creaked open with an unsettling grace. Iron-wrought and towering, they opened not with warmth, but with silent judgment. I could feel it the way the earth beneath this land breathed legacy and blood. A past I wasn’t ready to face. A name I never asked to carry. Yet here I was, standing in the very courtyard that raised my mother and now threatened to swallow me whole. Dozens of men in tailored suits lined the entrance, most of them older, stone-faced, whispering names behind my back that I never learned to answer to. “You're back,” I heard one of them mutter. My fingers clenched instinctively around Matteo’s hand. He gave it a small squeeze. He hadn’t let go since we left the hospital. Since I signed that paper. Since I made the choice to let my mother go. They took her off life support exactly thirteen days ago. I’ve counted every one. I still hear the beeping in my sleep. I still remember the way her skin felt—cold, soft, already somewhere else.

The conversation didn’t end in the grand hall. No, nothing ever ended there. The Bianchi family preferred their victories sealed behind closed doors, away from the watchful eyes of the servants and the echoing gold-lit ceilings. Uncle Carlo led us out with a curt gesture, like a general expecting his soldiers to follow. We moved through the long marble corridor, Sofia’s small steps pattering beside me, her fingers still knotted with mine. Matteo walked just behind, close enough that I could feel his presence, the faint brush of his arm against mine every few steps. They brought us to the study, a room thick with cigar smoke and the scent of old leather. The doors closed, locking us in with the weight of centuries of family power. Carlo sat behind my father’s old desk. Aunt Luciana perched in a chair by the fire, diamonds catching the flames. My cousins lingered by the bookshelves, pretending to browse titles but hanging on every word. “You’ll be married within the week,” Carlo be

The music started—soft, slow, the kind of melody that pulled at your heart and tangled your thoughts into a knot. My breath hitched, and I swallowed hard. The long white train of my gown stretched behind me like a river of silk, every step feeling impossibly heavy and impossibly light all at once. I was walking toward a future I hadn’t fully claimed yet. The doors opened wide, and a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned, and there I was—Giulianna Bianchi, the heir, the bride, every inch the perfect picture they wanted. But beneath all that perfection, my body was a secret battlefield. Because Matteo had insisted on one last thing before I walked out. A small, sleek vibrator tucked discreetly beneath my gown. Hidden against my skin. He’d smirked when he told me, voice low and teasing. “Walk for me, dolcezza. Show me how beautiful you are when you’re on fire—and no one else knows.” I’d nodded, cheeks burning, heart pounding in a way that wasn’t just nerves. With every step

The second the suite door clicked shut, I turned the key and pocketed it. No interruptions. No one touching her but me. Giulianna stood in the center of the room, still in her wedding gown — the same gown that had been taunting me for hours. My hands ached from keeping them off her. The way the silk hugged her body, the way the light from the chandelier caught the shimmer in her veil, the faint rise and fall of her chest… She looked like sin wrapped in innocence. Mine. Only mine. “Come here,” I said, my voice low enough to make her freeze. She didn’t move. Not right away. She just stared at me with that mix of defiance and surrender that drove me insane. I took the steps for her. My fingers brushed over her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw, down her throat until they found the rapid beat of her pulse. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me tonight.” Her lips parted. “Matteo…” The sound of my name on her tongue snapped something in me. I grabbed her waist, dragging her again