All Chapters of A mother for my son: Chapter 81 - Chapter 87

Alexandre "For several days now, you've been acting a bit strange. What's bothering you, Alexandre?" Inquires Flavio as soon as he notices my expression.I turn my chair, let out a deep sigh, and gaze out over all of Liguria in an attempt to clear my mind of so many problems. After a brief pause, I decide to speak."Someone blew up Liza's father's ship a few days ago. Apparently, they had a very valuable cargo that was about to be shipped to Russia. This was a significant loss for both my father-in-law and his partner.""And how does that affect you?" Bellini asks. "Don't tell me the bastard dared to blame you?" He growls furiously.I can't help but laugh. When I turn my chair back around to face them, I shake my head."Why am I not surprised you think that of my father-in-law?""Maybe because the idiot is capable of that and more." Bellini retorts, glaring at me."Only because Liza isn't here will I agree with you, but in front of her, I never will. So, you know, Bellini, keep your

Yelizaveta Little by little, I open my eyes and feel a bit disoriented, not knowing where I am. I shake my head, and when I finally manage to focus, I look around and realize I’m in some sort of abandoned warehouse. But strangely enough, I’m alone—or at least I think I am.Everything is so confusing that every time I try to remember what happened, my head aches a little. When small scenes of what happened this morning finally come to mind, a shiver runs through me. All those trucks blocking our way, my father’s men trying to protect me, the ones from bombon following us, and that girl, screaming my name before being hit and losing consciousness.I try to touch my head where I was struck hard enough to knock me out, but I realize that I’m tied to a chair. Just as I’m about to move it, I hear unfamiliar voices.“They hit her pretty hard.” Shouts a man, followed by a thud. I try to turn my head to see where it’s coming from, but I can’t, so I listen closely to their conversation.“I’m s

Once again, I find myself in the cemetery, a place that has become so familiar to me that my chest tightens with the loss I am facing at this moment. I lower my gaze and observe the white rose I hold in my hand, as I feel a single tear escape from my eye. With the same hand holding the rose, I quickly wipe it away, knowing that the person I am now saying goodbye to would not want to see me in this state.After five long years, Giuseppe Lombardi left us to reunite with his son, whom he has longed for all these years. If it weren't for my mother, who became like a daughter to him, the sadness that overwhelmed him might have taken him sooner.I look around, and both my mother and my sisters are devastated by his loss, but I know they also find peace in having been with him in his last days. Next to me, holding my hand as she always has, is my beloved wife Yelizaveta, and at our feet are our children, little Renzo and little Laryssa.As the priest finishes the last words of farewell, my m