33-Sad Wittle Puppy

**Isabella**

Everyone knows not to disturb me during the morning hours. Everyone except my mother, apparently because she's blowing up my phone at six-thirty. I ignored it the first three times she called, but Marcello started grumbling, and Ezra nudged me until I took the call. I didn't sell my business and give up booger sugar to not sleep in.

"Okay, okay! I'll get it!" I climb over Marcello in the most ungraceful way, making him grunt when my elbow pushes into his gut.

"Yes, mother?" I put it on speaker because I don't feel like holding the phone to my ear.

"Isabella, something terrible happened!" Mom goes on a rant, but it's so overwhelming at first.

"Whoa, slow down, mom. Try to calm down and tell me what's wrong." At this point, Ezra and Marcello are wide awake, watching me as I put some clothes on.

"Your father's body was found washed up on Rahway River early yesterday morning." My father?

"I didn't think you even knew who my father was. I can hardly mourn the death of a man who was never in the picture." I can't believe she woke me up to tell me some stranger has died.

"Not your biological father, Isabella. I'm talking about Vincent." I instantly became nauseous when she said his name. After everything that happened. I can't believe she would call him my father and act like his death is so tragic.

"Vincent was never my father! How could you call him that? What makes you think I even care about his body being found somewhere?" Now I'm panicking because his body was found, and I don't want anything leading to Marcello. I look at the men, but they don't seem concerned about the it. If anything, they're worried for me.

"Well, you used to call him Daddy." Both of my men went from looking upset to livid. "He was a father figure to you. His lawyer just called to tell me he left money for us in his will. If you want your share, you'll need to come home so we can go over the details." My blood is boiling. My mom is the most money-hungry whore I've ever met.

"He made me call him that! I fucking hated it! Did you forget what he did to me?!" She's quiet for a couple of seconds before she responds.

"How could I forget, Isabella? You had sex with him the moment he and I split up. You always tried to seduce him with your little skirts and tight clothes, and he finally caved in. I always figured you wanted attention, but I never knew you would take things that far." I've had this argument with my mother before, but she was never good at listening. I wore what Vincent told me to wear, and he was the one who bought my clothes. Yes, I was wrong for doing things on purpose to get in trouble, but it wasn't because I wanted Vincent. I was so young and clueless.

"Keep the money for yourself. God knows your broke ass needs it more than I do." Instead of hanging up the phone, I chuck it at the wall as hard as I can and watch it shatter. I drop to my knees and completely fall apart. I hate her! I hate that she never protected me. I hate the lack of stability I had as a child. I hate that I always came second to every man she brought around. Most of all, I hate her for ruining any and every desire I've ever had to become a mother.

Two strong arms lift my limp body from the floor as I continue to sob. My chest is tight, and my head is throbbing. I'm emotionally wrecked. I'm tired of holding in the anger I feel towards my mother. Lying in the bed, Marcello kisses my forehead while running his fingers through my hair while Ezra rubs my back and whispers loving words. Eventually, my tears stop, but I feel like a statue. I don't want to move or even open my eyes. So, I don't. Darkness consumes my mind, and I finally fall asleep.

______________

**Ezra**

My heart is breaking for Isabella. Marcello and I had the most loving mothers, so I cannot wrap my head around how her mother could treat her so badly. How could she blame her child for something an adult did to her? I wish I could take away Isabella's pain, but she is a warrior, and she must allow herself to feel this so she can work through it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, yes, but it can also traumatize you. It can cripple you if it is too heavy to carry. We have a family psychiatrist who lives in the castle for the soldiers, and anyone else who needs mental help through traumatic issues, so I will suggest them to Isabella. I ensure our men know their mental health is just as important as their physical health. If your brain cannot properly function, how can the rest of your body?

Isabella has been asleep for nearly three hours, but she needed the rest. Marcello and I get out of bed and go to our rooms to prepare for the day. I try to be quick, so I can get back to her by the time she wakes up. When I get back to her room, she's awake but still lying down with an absent look in her eyes.

"Hey, love. Do you want to get coffee and breakfast?" I sit on the edge of her bed and take her hand.

"I'm not hungry. Can you just hold me?" I kick my shoes off and pull her body close to mine. I cannot imagine how she is feeling and the thoughts going through her head.

"Is Capo going to get caught?" That was the least of our worries, but I understand why she would think the worst.

"No, baby. He wiped any trace of evidence, and as long as Vincent has been swimming with the fish, his body is fairly disintegrated. Not to mention the critters that probably ate off his body. They could only verify his identity through a DNA test." She releases a deep breath.

"Good. I was scared." She snuggled closer to me, sticking her face into the crook of my neck.

"Do you want to talk about what your mom said?" She shook her head.

"Other than the fact I need to go get a new phone today, I have nothing to say about her. I'm never speaking to her again, that's for sure." Isabella might not want to talk at the moment, but she will when she is ready. This is too big of a deal for anyone to hold on to.

"I am ready to listen if you ever want to talk. Stefano will get you a new phone today, and we can do anything you want." I love Isabella so much. I wish I could take her pain and get rid of it for good. She may be strong, but that does not mean she should carry this alone.

"I shouldn't have thrown my phone. Then again, I wouldn't mind having a new number so my mother can't reach me. I swear I don't want anything to do with her. I need my coffee, and a blunt would be nice." I know it is bad when she needs to take some hits off a blunt. Right on time, Marcello walks into the room, freshly showered and dressed casually.

"Just the man we need. Our love requires a blunt and coffee to lift her spirits a bit." He offers Isabella a gentle smile, but I know he is struggling to keep his composure. Right now, Isabella does not need him to seek revenge. She only needs him to make this hardship a little more bearable. That is how I know she changed us for the better.

"Audry will bring your coffee, and I will be back with the erba." He does not usually smoke in the manor, but today might be an exception, so I open the window to keep fresh air circulating.

Marcello returned with a blunt nicely rolled up and a smile on his face. He enjoys smoking more than he likes to admit, but I will take a goofy, hungry, healthy Marcello over an angry, struggling, and miserable Marcello any day. He lights up and takes the first couple of hits before passing it to Isabella, and her coffee arrives.

"I needed this so much. Thank you, Aubry." She takes a few sips and takes a long drag from the blunt. Isabella is going to be high as a kite. Marcello reached to take it, but she pulled it out of his reach. He backs off with his hands up.

"Remember, you do not have much of a tolerance for it. I would take it easy, Bellissima." He warns.

"I plan on going right back to bed anyway," Isabella mumbles before taking another hit. We try not to rely on substances to cope with negative emotions, but weed is less harmful than other options, so we do not stress about it.

"Do you plan on sharing it at all?" Marcello asks after watching her smoke half of it. I should not find this funny, but he was so sure they would smoke it together.

"I didn't plan to share it, but I will since you look like a sad wittle puppy." She pouts her bottom lip and starts laughing hysterically.

"I guess it is doing the job." I shrug at Marcello. He huffs and successfully takes the blunt back while Isabella crawls back into bed and instantly falls asleep. I think it is for the best anyway.