All Chapters of TRAPPED BY THE MAFIA: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Matteo's PovI have come to a conclusion that spending months away from doing the job I was trained to do has somehow contributed to the drift of my mind.I was born with a purpose. To head my family, to be a dangerous man, to keep feelings aside and deal without mercy. All through the course of my life, I have tried to stay focused on my duty and follow the path which was curated for me by the people who were before me.It was easy to spill blood and ruin people until Mirabella, my wife came along. From the moment she warmed her way into my heart, It has become as though this world of blood and chaos holds no water in my life anymore. As though I continuously seek out the peace and quiet.And ever since discovering about my kids and surviving multiple gunshot wounds, I have become more desperate for that peace and quiet.Which is why now, twenty four hours after leaving Italy for Mexico in search of another blood to spill, my mind has gone far far away from here. Instead of preparing

Mirabella’s PovMy bones wobble, my footsteps unstable, staggering as they lead me back into the main house.In my mind are thoughts of my father’s words, as well as thoughts of my husband’s ex-mistress.Will Matteo truly do the unthinkable to keep this union standing?Would he hurt the people he loves if it means keeping this relationship intact?If so, then this is not love. This is a sickly obsession. And I do not want such for myself.A stray tear sort to make its way down my cheek. I gently wipe it away as I expel shallow exhales before pushing open the door and walking into the manor.Plates still clink, echoes of laughter filling the space. They’re still eating. It’s good thing that he’s occupied for I do not want his attention at this moment. I just need some time to myself.But he somehow feels my presence while I try to tiptoe through the space and up the stairs.“Mirabella,” excited voice calls for me and I freeze, my breathing catching in my throat.I don’t answer his call

Mirabella's PovSpoons and plates clink, my children’s little voices pass through my ears like soft whispers as they throw their tantrums, my husband chews his food loudly—an effort to infuriate me.Even with the unspoken words and unexpressed anger looming over my husband and I, we find ourselves sitting at the dinner table, trying to force smiles on our faces for the sake of our children.Not like they care, considering that they’re munching on their dinner and chattering away as though we do not exist. Still, we hope to create a good example for them.As the meal goes on, the silence between my husband and I becomes more and more uncomfortable. It’s my daughter, Mariana who looks up from her plate first, her eyes meeting mine. Furrowing her brows, she looks between her father and I before refocusing on her food.For a moment, she leans into her brother, whispering something into his ear. Mariano snickers, his eyes stealing a quick glance at his father.I shift uncomfortably in my se

Mirabella's PovIt’s been two weeks since I returned from the hospital. Two weeks since I almost lost my child.Of course I decided to keep the baby. I am afraid, I constantly live in fear of what this pregnancy might do to me, and after that near miscarriage, my fear has toppled, yet, I find myself wanting to do this. To have this child with the love of my life.It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make, not just for myself, but for this family. For my husband.Matteo deserves a chance to experience this journey with me.As I lie on the couch, enveloped in a soft blanket of warmth and comfort, I feel the fragile threads of my being slowly weaving back together after days of constantly being in pain.My husband, Matteo, has put in the work to make me feel better. He is just like a gentle breeze, soothing my soul, the calming melody that quiets the fears I have regarding this pregnancy.He is my safe haven—a place where I can be myself and express my joy, sorrow, and fear without feeling ju

Matteo's PovI wake to nothing but emptiness. The room is lit by the blaring sunlight peeking through the blinds, my wife’s side of the bed empty and cold, almost looking as though no one slept there the night before.My brows form into a crease as I pat her side of the bed, somehow hoping that my eyes are deceiving me. But she’s not there.I rise from the bed, sitting upright to reach for my phone. Twelve noon. The fuck? I have never slept in this long. And to think I slept through the night and into the midday. . .that too without noticing when my wife got up and left.Fuck me.So much for wanting to exclusively take care of her while she recovers.I throw the sheets off my legs and slide down the bed, groaning and cussing underneath my breath as I walk to the washroom. “Mirabella?” I call out her name. There’s no answer.‘She must’ve snuck out to make breakfast. You know how stubborn she can be.’ My subconscious reasons with me.With a shrug of my shoulders, I decide to freshen up