Her Mafia Husband's Mistress

Chapter Thirteen

I did not want to see him, I refused to.

This man had slept with the murderer of my child.

That same murderer was having his child.

I yanked my leg out of his hold, and he let go as if he was expecting it.

Marcello dragged his palm down his face and stood on his feet.

Why was he the only thing I could see?

I turned to walk away from him, unwilling to be tempted any further.

He was quick to grab my waist and push my back onto his hard chest. One arm around my waist and the other over my clavicle.

Our breathing is chaotic and heartbeats a beautiful cacophony.

"Can we forget for tonight", he pleaded, his voice breathy.

He could ask. He had the nerve to ask.

He was not the one with a hole in the heart which refused to fill up. He was not the one living with the weight of loss pressing like a boulder on his shoulder.

He did not have to think about breastmilk that refused to dry up.

He was not the one with heart-wrenching pain seeing the protruding belly of your husband's mistress, her stomach a constant reminder of my loss.

He did not have to abide by a goddamn rule or burden of choosing to end or save an innocent life. That innocent life I wished never existed in the first place so I would not have to choose.

My lips parted as a light sigh left my lips. My shoulders sagged. I was tired, too tired these days it was unlike me.

I turned in his arms to give me a piece of my mind, but as I looked into his eyes, and saw the replica of my feelings.

He was tired too.

The words evaporated, they never had the chance of leaving my lips.

" Let's forget", my grey eyes glistened. He looked into my eyes for confirmation. He pushed my hair back before his lips pecked my forehead and trailed down the bridge of my nose. He looked into my eyes one more time before pressing his lips against mine and tears trailed down my cheeks as I closed my eyes in response.

Let's forget.

It's been so long, I felt complete and nostalgic.

Marcello sighed in contentment as his hand dug into my hair. It was everything I did not think

possible

"It's been too long, my love", He pulled back and whispered against my lips. "Let's not fight anymore",

I knew we would fight, there were too many things to fight over, but for now, let's pretend there was not a thing to fight for. So, I pressed my lips back on his.

It was a fight of dominance as we tumbled around the place breaking things as I let him lead me into his room. I had not been in it for a while.

I refuse to look any longer, I didn't want to be reminded of the time we had spent here together, the memories we made, the understanding, fights, discontent, and forgiveness. I refuse to acknowledge my frame on his stool he did not put down or the lamp by his bedside that I had replaced. I did not want to see the empty can of air freshener he refused to trash.

My throat clogged and my actions became even more hurried.

"Calm down", he muttered in Italian. " We have all night, and I'm not going anywhere", he glided his hand down my back in comfort and his cold watch burned my skin in their wake.

Maybe not tonight, but he would leave once it's morning. Maybe it would be me.

He dug his hand into my dress and pulled it slowly off, and I stood before him in my underwear.

He took in a sharp breath, his breath stuttering "Beautiful" " his voice thick and hoarse.

The look in his eyes, that utter adoration had a shiver run up my spine.

For tonight, just for tonight, I'll believe I was the only woman beautiful to him.

My mouth dried up, and I was thirsty.

He watched as I watched him yank his tie off before slowly unbuttoning his shirt, exposing the chest a little at a time. He pulled his shirt off and his firm abs came into view.

I could not resist placing my hand on his abdomen, not then nor now.

Electricity crackled between us the moment his mouth connected with my neck, then along my shoulder, my clavicle, and the top of my chest.

It was a blur of intense passion, body worshipping as we tried to fill up the spaces we were missing, to close up the distance, but we were too far apart.

He was a man seeking comfort, affection, and reconciliation.

I was seeking comfort and distraction. I wanted them all to go; the guilt, despair, and anguish.

I wanted to feel again, I needed a reminder of the woman I once was.

I needed the vulnerability to leave because a Sokolov was never vulnerable, and when I awoke tomorrow, I would have shed all my weakness.

Marcello carried me against himself and my legs wrapped around his waist.

As the darkness thickened and gradually receded we continued knowing it was going to be the only chance in a long time. Just as the first streak of light touched the sky, he pulled me into his arms, his chin on my head as he sighed in contentment.

I let myself close my eyes for a while, maybe if I waited a little longer I'll realize that my reality was actually a dream.

I listened to his heart rate which refused to lull me to sleep, but brought me tranquility, quieting the maybes in my head, but I knew I needed to leave before I lost myself in the ecstasy that was a facade.

My reluctance led me into a sleep plagued by nightmares.

Unlike my body which was boozing from excitement bore from intimacy, the one in my dream was bore from the fervent need to quench the burning fire in the pit of my stomach; the very core of my body. I could not place where the fire was from nor where it was spreading to, all my body craved was a reprieve.

The cold hard floor of the warehouse did nothing to the inferno my body emanated. It was pure torture, and the devilish thought in my head, mind told me I could use any other things to feel better. I didn't need to use my brother Nikolai if I did not want to, reminding me of my hands that I had been unbound at one point. It was nudging me, gently pushing then goading. Then, it got so desperate that it started threatening me to use the black hair boy with gray eyes.

I would do neither of them, I would rather bear the trauma and the scar than be the one to corrupt the innocence in that boy's eyes. The boy that was never birth from me but was bore from my heart, my soul, and every love my dead heart could ever muster to give.

He was all the love I could ever think of giving someone, a constant reminder that I had something beautiful in me. The little boy could cost me everything to protect, yet I would gladly give.

In the eyes of Nikolai was fear, hurt, and apprehension. He did not understand, and I hope he never will.

My eyes settled on a metallic object beside him, it was something familiar to the both of us. Harmful, but can put me out of my misery.

I did not know Nikolai was watching me, the moment I looked up and our gaze came into contact he shook his head, his eyes widened, and his mouth agape.

I gave him a comforting smile but he was not having it.

My gray eyes hardened and he squirmed where he crouched. My voice grew stern as I called out to him " Nikolai",

He stopped and his body grew rigid as if at attention.

"You won't kill me. Pick up the gun and fire", I commanded, hiding the tremor in my voice.

His hand shook as he picked up the heavy metal, but it was steady. We had been practicing shooting for about a year now. I trust Nikolai's aim.

Probably because I did not tell him where to take the shot or it was his way of protesting, a sharp pain pierced my tummy spreading across my body as blood sipped out like water.

My hand flew to my tummy to apply pressure, and I was glad for the distraction that came in the form of pain.

The gun clattered and I looked up into Nikolai's eyes, something had shifted; my baby brother was not as innocent as he was anymore.

He took his first shot at something that was not a dummy and it was at his own sister.

" It is okay, I am okay. We are okay", I comforted him and myself.

"Indeed you are Adalina Sokolov", The man's voice echoed in the background, far and unwanted.

I was startled awake and glanced around the unfamiliar yet familiar room. My breathing slowed as I tried to gather my thoughts.

I could not think of anything that could have triggered the awful memory. I always threw it to the back of my mind like it never happened.

I looked at the man with ruffled hair beside me and my hand lifted to touch his face, but I didn't.

I got out of bed, smoothened the side I laid on, and picked my clothes on the way out.

Hopefully, when he awoke he would think of it as a dream.