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ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY.
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Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-ONE.
FIVE DAYs LATER.It's been five pleasurable days since I spontaneously married the man whom I love like there is no tomorrow. We finally left the room and joined the rest of civilisation yesterday afternoon. We also took Savannah out to the beach for dinner and an early evening swim in the water. We ate, laughed, sang silly childhood songs from the past and swam. It was a perfect evening to end a perfect wedding and the start of a wonderful life together — as a family. Alessandro hasn't been able to keep his hands off my body either and this morning, I slipped out of the room bright and early to evade his wandering hands. Torturous mouth. And well… I'm sure you get the picture.My body aches in places I never knew it could. My womanly parts have never felt so raw and beautifully used at the same time. But today I'd actually like to sit down without gnawing on the inside of my cheek to mask the hissing wince that escapes my lips. As I descend the stairs, with Viktor not too far
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO.
I set the bouquet that little Savannah had gathered from the villa’s lovely rose garden on Roses' grave. I take a step back to where Savannah stands. In her small, delicate hands, she holds the photo frame that contains a picture of her and Rose on their trip to the beach one sunny day. I peer down at her, a sad pout upon her bottom lip, and the tears in her eyes gnaw at the branches of my heart.She is so young and innocent, and she's lost both of her parents. I can't even comprehend what turmoil invades her little body. If anything happens to me or Alessandro, she will be left all alone. Tears pool in my eyes when I imagine her going through life alone, and I nibble on my bottom lip, deep in thought. I wish to give her a sibling. Whether it be blood or through an adoption agency. Conceiving a child is one of my biggest fears after losing our precious child beforehand. But with my tubes being cleaned and two doctors on call at my every whim. The fear that harbours my body isn't
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress ONE.
Some say that Angels mourn for us when we are unable to weep our own tears. When the pain becomes so overwhelming that we are afraid that if we let the tears fall, they will drown us in our aura of misery. The air is thick with melancholy as if a heavy cloud of grief continuously hangs over the entire cemetery. Death lingers in the air accompanied by the faint smell of rain, cheap perfume, and fresh roses. I shut my black umbrella, letting it slip between my fingers, and I gaze up at the ominous sky as the tears of the Angels cascade down upon us. It's a cold day. The sort of day that drills deep into your bones, marking you forever as it licks and nips all over your frigid flesh. Today, we lay to rest my dear sister, Rose, whose life was tragically cut short. The coroner's report states she had alcohol and drugs in her system and that’s what caused the car accident, killing her three hours later in the hospital. But I know better. I know that my sister was murdered and th
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress TWO.
THE VERY NEXT DAY: I gaze upon the grand villa where Don Valentino resides. Its towering iron gate fit for a king's fortress. My hands clench the iron rods with a vice-like grip, making my knuckles turn a ghastly shade of white as I wait patiently for someone to show up and face me. Seconds pass, then minutes, followed by hours. And still, I refuse to leave until I speak with the great Don Valentino, that makes me shiver with fear every time, he is near. I expel the weight of apprehension from my body as I watch one of Don Valentinos’ men exit the villa and make his way toward me. Flicking the lower-right side of his jacket open, the man rests his hand on the gun that is attached to the holster, resting his forefinger on the trigger. “What are you doing here, Miss. Ivy?” He growls in a thick Italian accent that would have sounded hot if he weren’t working for the enemy. “Well, since we are on a first-name basis, I’m going to assume that you know who I am, and why I am here?”
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress THREE.
“Do you make it a habit to enter private property without permission?” His voice is cold and clipped. Sighing, I rise to my full height and bravely, or just outright stupidly, I turn around to face him. I hate that his presence is magnetic, and I can feel the pull from where he is standing, glaring at me with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his slacks. I comb my fingers through my hair to mask my trembling body, then I meet his piercing, predatory, and gleaming gaze. “Do you always make it a habit of confining Savannah within the gates of your fortress, so she is excluded from the real world and her family?” I bite back. As our gazes continue to bore into one another, I can’t shake the feeling that Don Valentino is an Italian God with intense eyes and a face that is carved from stone. I doubt he’s ever cracked a genuine smile, even when he’s balls deep in some random bitch, shuddering as he comes. He is domineering. Broody. Built like a damn brick wall, and he is sca
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress FOUR.
I pull the hoodie of my jersey lower, concealing my face as much as possible, as I patiently wait in the lobby for the signal to make my move.Twisting the straps of my backpack in my hands, I nibble on my lower lip, trying not to draw attention to myself. My phone dings,UNKNOWN: Room 332. Your time starts now. I jump out of my seat and head down the corridor to the children's clinic, and I press my body flush against the wall as Don Valentinos’ men rush towards the exit. “Mrs. DeLuca said there was an intruder in the Villa. We must inform Don Valentino straight away.” A lanky, dark-headed man mutters as they run past me.I slip through the door to room 332, removing my cap, and I turn around to see Savannah sitting in the dentist's chair with dark glasses on her small face. I reach her side. “Savannah, honey,” I whisper. Slowly, she sits up, removing the glasses that conceal her eyes, and she stares at me quizzically.“Do you remember me?” I ask her in a soft voice.She nods he
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress FIVE.
The gentle rustling of leaves, carried away by the forceful gusts of wind, fills my ear canals.The dulcet tones of a beloved melody, orchestrated by the very hand of Mother Nature, overflow into the air.It’s like she is whispering to me in a hushed tone, saying, "Don't throw in the towel. Fight. You got to own your mind, body, and soul, kid. It's the only way to survive in this world. The streets are tough, and the sharks are always circling. But if you're in control of yourself, they can't touch you.” I absorb all the wise words she hums solely for me.The stench of dust and rotting flesh invades my senses, causing my gut to twist and my lips to moisten as I struggle to hold back the bile. I've lost track of time.I don't know whether it's day or night, and I'm not sure if I'll ever see Savannah again.Don Valentinos' goons took me for a ride, far from the city's bright lights. They hauled me into a deserted building and tied me up, leaving me here to rot.His goons had blindfolde
Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress SIX.
The sound of numerous machines beeping finds me through a sea of darkness. Pulling me out of a never-ending vortex I’ve been stuck in for days. I have gone from one hell hole to another, and yet, here I am, still alive and breathing. I am a survivor. It appears that the devil himself is not ready for me either. My nostrils begin to sting with the potent smell of antiseptic with undertones of artificial fragrances like soap and… cleaning products. Groaning, I lift my hand to wipe the tip of my nose that burns from breathing and I feel something sharp stabbing my arm, restricting my movements. What the…oh, fuck… my head. Why is it pounding, and why are my ears fucking ringing? “Miss Bishop, can you please open your eyes?” An unfamiliar voice reaches me through the darkness that continues to cling to me. Clenching my jaw, I sigh and slowly begin to peel back my eyelash curtains to unveil my throbbing eyes. Squinting, I try to open them wider, fighting against the bright white lig
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