Chapter 105 Chapter: 105

Chapter 105 Chapter: 105

ANDREA

I was in the dining area of the villa Marchetti, alone, with armed men all around were. It was something I prayed I would never get used to.

Because getting used to seeing them means I've accepted my reality and the fact that there's nothing I could do with them breathing on my neck the instant I left my prison room.

Their watchful eyes followed my every little action so I wouldn't make the mistake of running away.

“Should I get you something else? I could ask mama to make you whatever you want,” Giulia said, startling me out of one of dozens thoughts occupying my brain.

She'd come back to clean the table and had found me twirling my fork in the pasta for more than half an hour without eating it. Her voice was soft and kind. I'm sure her offer was her being kind as always.

Giulia has become my friend and a great support in this violent world. She'd kept me company on most days, and she's also my source of information about all that's happening in and out of the mansion, at least the ones she's privy to.

She and her mother, Zetta, were the kindest of souls, always helping and trying to cheer me up.

Zetta had made it her mission to educate me on the dos and don'ts of being a pregnant woman. She'd also been sharing some of her recipes with me, teaching me how to cook when I told her I love cooking.

To say I'm lucky to have met them here is an understatement. They help make my situation less bleak each day, and I thank God for that.

“No, it's fine. You don't have to do that. This actually tastes delicious, as all of Zetta's cooking does, but I'm just not hungry,” I replied. She looked doubtfully at the full plate and nodded.

“Okay, but tell me if you change your mind. You know, Mama will be only too happy to cook you something, and I know not everyone likes pasta. I don't.”

I smiled at her kindness. Of course, I knew Zetta would be only too happy to make me something; the woman would take any opportunity to showcase her talent. She loves cooking and taking care of people on her own.

But we both know there's nothing wrong with the food. It's my emotions that are all over the place, with everything going around, and my pregnancy hormones.

My moods are always doing a 360 degrees. It's obvious I'm hungry, but I'm so sad and nervous about tomorrow. No! Actually, wretched is how I feel. It's been almost six weeks since that horrid night, the night Alessandro got engaged to Valentina. The night they both shot and killed people.

My life is a joke. I have become a topic of gossip in the villa. The pitiful American who got knocked up but wasn't good enough to marry. Not that I was ready for that, or that I expected Alessandro to marry me.

Liar!

I hate the voice in my head sometimes; of course, I would be a complete liar if I said there hasn't been a time or two when I imagined Alessandro as an ordinary man who would propose and get married to me, and we would live happily, he and I and our babies. But it was just wishful thinking, nothing more.

Even without Valentina, marriage to Alessandro is not in the cards for me. Especially now that I've got a baby on the way. I want my kid to have an ordinary, normal life like the one I had with my mom and dad.

I want them to wake up in the morning without a fear of being attacked, and go to sleep at night without the knowledge of death and violence in their thoughts.

Despite knowing there's no future between us, why does my heart hurt so fucking much that breathing feels like a chore? I hated that I couldn't just waltz out of the villa and disappear.

I hate the pity stares I get from the staff. What I especially hate is that, though I tried to appear indifferent to Alessandro marrying another woman, I couldn't seem to fool anyone.

They could all see through me; I couldn't hide the hurt and pain in my eyes, even if I managed to keep my face blank.

Surprisingly, I have made friends with many of the residents' staff. I know all of them by name, and most seem to hate Valentina, or they fear her.

Giulia had told me the stories or rumors surrounding the woman. She was said to be as calculating and ruthless as her brother Matteo.

Valentina is said to kill anyone she didn't like or who got in the way of something she wants unprovoked.

Many in the Italian mafia world believe she is the one running the Moretti Famiglia, not her brother, Matteo.

Some thought she would kill Matteo and take over, becoming capo. Instead, she's now getting married to Alessandro.

The flurry of activity as maids prepared for the upcoming wedding all around us added to my misery. Tomorrow is Alessandro's and Valentina's wedding, which will take place right here in the villa near the grapevine.

How heartless are Alessandro and his grandfather, expecting me to attend this marriage? The thing is, I had no intention of going, though they didn't know that. Hopefully, it stays that way.

My heart burns with the thought of the man who had stolen my heart despite my reluctance—the man who had branded himself in every part of me.

A man I had given everything to despite knowing our relationship was doomed right from the start—a man who is now getting married to another woman. Alessandro had made it clear through his actions that he is, in fact, attracted to Valentina.

I don't care what he says; actions speak louder than words. Though he'd told me he didn't want her, now that he's engaged to Valentina, he's always with her whenever he's back from his mafia business—smiling with her and laughing. I'm in complete misery, and heartbroken, but there's a part of me that doesn't blame him.

I believe Alessandro really didn't want to get married to anyone, but that didn't mean he wasn't attracted to Valentina, either that or… I cut off the suspicion in my head, not wanting to accept the hopes that the thoughts swirling in my brain awakened.

It really didn't matter what Alessandro did. It wouldn't change a thing. The man is dark, a killer, and I would be a hypocrite to condemn Jericho for the same thing Alessandro did and still forgive him for it.

Most nights, I would wake in the dead of night, wondering what Alessandro's plans were, because the man always had a plan. But that's before Lexi was killed.

It also occurs to me that Alessandro could have agreed to marry Valentina to save his people from his grandfather's wrath. And if that was the case, I needed to leave so I wouldn't be in his way.

I watched Giulia carry the tray and food I hadn't eaten back to the staff kitchen. I would miss her terribly, she and Zetta, even Lorenzo, when I'm gone from this place. The loud click-clack of high heels on the wooden floor made me glance at the door.

It was Lorenzo and…Valentina. Instantly, my mood soured even more than it already was. She was with four others: two men and two women. I stared at them as they came closer.

She said something to Lorenzo in Italian, who then glanced at me, reluctant to leave me alone with the woman. I smiled at him assuringly. He stares at Valentina a moment longer before finally leading the others upstairs.

Alone! My heart thunders in my too-tight chest. My eyes were fixed on Valentina. This is the woman who would know how Alessandro looks when he's sleeping for the rest of their married life.

She would know how deadly gorgeous he looks in the morning; she would go to sleep with him by her side, and he, in turn, would go home to her every night.

She would live my dream with the man I love and the child we—Alessandro and I —had created, before she pops out more babies.

She would be known as Alessandro's wife and the mother of my child. My baby would call her mother, look to her for protection and care, and love her as his own.

My heart squeezes with hate and anger, but that would only happen if you let it, that snarky voice inside my head reminds me. Yeah, that's never going to happen as long as I'm alive.

“You're Andrea, right?” Valentina asked, like she didn't know? Though it sounded like a question, we both know it really wasn't.

She'd been staring at me in that way she always does whenever we meet, like I was beneath her notice.

While I was doing the same, well, I didn't master the art of condescendingly staring someone down yet. But I did try to make her see I wasn't afraid of her.

“I've been meaning to have a talk with you.”

Before I could say anything, she dragged one of the dining chairs closer to me and sat down, crossing one long, toned leg over the other gracefully. Her eyes were direct and watchful. She was trying to intimidate me.

This was the first time I was meeting Valentina alone, without Alessandro or anyone. Just like always, she was dressed to kill.

Perfect hair and makeup, a perfect teal-colored dress that accentuates her gorgeous body, and a high heel that made her even taller than she really is.

While I was dressed in jeans and a sweater, new though they were, I still felt underdressed, but I'm comfortable, so I don't care.

“I just want to make something very clear. I know of your history with Alessandro and, of course, your condition,” she said, waving a manicured hand towards my bulging stomach.

Her voice was calm, and with her Italian accent, it would have sounded almost sexy if it hadn't been filled with malice.

“We need to get something straight. I have been very understanding about your pregnancy because of my love for Alessandro. I'm even getting used to the idea of becoming his son's mother. I could already imagine it: me, Alessandro, and your son…Oh, I mean my son living as a happy family.”

Suddenly she leaned in and went to touch my stomach with her hand. I protectively moved away quickly, making the chair drag on the dark wood. My eyes glaring at her, she smiled smugly.

“He would never lack for anything, I promise you that. I'm going to spoil him rotten. You never have to worry about him. Consider it my thanks for letting me raise your child, but that's where my gratitude ends. While you're living here, you will stay away from Alessandro.”

Valentina's voice was hard with something dark, her eyes narrowed with malice. Her words were said to hurt, and I hate that they fucking did. She's rubbing it in that she's taking everything from me and that there's nothing I can do about it. And that's where she's wrong.

“It would be in your best interest if you live as if you were dead for the next few months before your delivery. I've never learned to share as a child, and I especially refuse to do that with Alessandro. He'd always been mine as fate just proved to you.

You couldn't hold onto him because he was mine; I'm the one he's getting married to. I do hope you understand what I'm getting at, I would really hate for him to untimely lose his son,” she stared at me unblinking, glaring darkly.

Threatening my child, that's a wrong fucking move, bitch!

Unfortunately for her, she'd come at a time in my life where threats had started to lose their power over me.

There's only so much a person can take, with the constant threats to me, my friends, and estranged family, my unborn baby, and also watching people being killed right in front of me. It's making me stronger.

I've literally reached my limits. People tend to think that because I'm kind, I'm weak.

They fucking need to realize that even a kitten has to unsheathe her cla ws every once in a while when she's pushed too far, or, else she becomes the doormats everyone tramples on.

And I am no doormat.