บททั้งหมดของ The Mafia Devil’s Wrong Bride: บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 178

Annalissa Hale The apartment is already a mess of ribbons and balloons when the morning sun pours through the curtains, turning the living room into a glowing haze of color. I’m standing on a stool, probably dangerously, trying to tape a string of sky-blue balloons to the ceiling when I catch Kian wobbling dangerously close to the TV stand. “Kian Romano,” I warn, pointing a finger down at him like he can understand my authority. “Do not touch that. Don’t you dare.” He pauses, tiny chubby hands raised mid-crime, then flashes me the widest grin. Great. He thinks this is a game. “Hania!” I yell next because she’s toddling straight toward the box of fragile decorations. “No ma’am, leave that alone!” From the kitchen, Clarissa groans loudly. “Issa, stop yelling at them like that,” she says as she walks in, bowl of gummies in hand. “They’re literally one year old. They don’t know what ‘stop’ means.” “They should learn,” I mumble even though I know she’s right. Clarissa places the gu

Annalissa Hale The twins are unusually quiet this morning. Almost like they sense something is changing. I stand in front of the daycare building, holding one baby in each arm, my heart pounding so hard I feel it in my throat. The sign above the glass door reads Bright Steps Early Learning Center in cheerful letters, but nothing about this feels cheerful. It feels like the beginning of a heartbreak. “My babies,” I whisper into their soft hair. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Kian is chewing on his sleeve. Hania is pulling at my necklace. They have no idea that today, for the first time in their one-year-old lives, I’m leaving them with strangers. Clarissa insisted this was a good idea. Ivan encouraged me. The daycare director gave me a full tour. I read reviews, asked questions, checked hygiene standards twice. Everything is objectively perfect. But my chest still aches. I step inside, greeted by soft music, pastel walls painted with rainbows, and a woman wearing a sunflow

Annalissa Hale I’ve lost count of the days. Some mornings I wake up convinced it’s only been a few hours since the night everything went wrong. Other mornings, it feels like months. But it has only been weeks. Weeks of walking down sterilized hallways with a knot in my throat. Weeks of pressing my palms to cool glass because I couldn’t touch my own children. Weeks of telling myself it’s temporary, that they just need a little more time, while my heart ached in ways I didn’t even know were possible. I never imagined the beginning of motherhood would look like this. I come to the hospital every day, no matter how tired I am, no matter how much my body begs me to stay in bed. Clarissa brings me breakfast most mornings and drags me outside to breathe fresh air. Since Ronan is currently in town, he drops every now and then with his bags of baby clothes he claims he “accidentally” bought. He always says he didn’t plan to. I never believe him. Ivan has also visited twice. He insi

Annalissa HaleI’m stirring the pot on the stove when Clarissa bumps her hip against mine.“Move,” she says, even though there’s plenty of space.“No.” I grip the wooden spoon with exaggerated stubbornness. “This is my kitchen. You’re on my turf.”She laughs under her breath. “It’s our birthday. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”“I’ve been nice to you for twenty-eight years. My kindness quota is exhausted.”She flips her hair dramatically and reaches around me for the salt. “You’re insufferable.”“And yet you’re always here.”She snorts as she measures a pinch of salt between her fingers. The twins are shrieking in the living room with Hania singing off-key and Kian insisting he knows the correct lyrics even though he definitely doesn’t. Something crashes. Clarissa freezes. I don’t. I simply call out:“If it’s broken, nobody gets dessert!”The noise settles immediately. Small victories.I glance at the tiny birthday banner pinned above the kitchen counter. It’s nothing extravagan