Becoming the Cruel Mafia's Wife

Chapter 3: Waking Up

Everything in the house was total chaos. Everyone was shocked. My mother-in-law had a collapse of tears and joy to learn that her son had woken up after four years in a coma, with the possibility of dying due to his bad condition.

Mrs. Eliza was super happy that her lord woke up, her brother was incredulous, worried, and somewhat happy, I guess. The house was filled with family. At this time, the room was full of cousins, uncles, and paternal grandparents. Everyone was celebrating, and everyone was thanking God for the incredible miracle in Damon's life.

Even the doctor himself can't believe what just happened. He himself made it very clear that his health was delicate and that we should prepare for the worst, but now he looked stunned, checking on Damon Lombardi, who looked at me with hawk eyes, ready to dig his claws into my neck.

I'm at the end of the room, away from everyone, almost next to the door, to run if I have to.

He was sitting on the bed, with his back straight on the padded back, despite the fact that everyone was talking to him, and he responded with a calmness that was terrifying. He had not taken his gaze off me, to the point of making me feel afraid.

I could be happy for him because, in the end, he's a human being, and he was able to overcome death. She could be happy, at least, because the doctor has said that he is in perfect condition, that there will be enough therapy and care to return to being the same man as before. I could at least smile in relief that her torment is over, but I couldn't. Not when he looks at me with such hatred, implying that from today on, my hell will begin.

"Who are you?"

His question was straightforward, cold, and blunt.

Everyone turned to look at me, making me feel small. I'd like to talk to him about what I've been doing to him while he was unconscious, but I can't. The words got stuck in my throat because I was terrified. The man in front of me, despite having a serene countenance, exudes danger. You can tell he's a man who is better off as a friend than an enemy.

"I... I'm Abigail." I cleared my throat, determined to press on. "I am Abigail, your wife."

As the words left my lips, I couldn't help but question the wisdom of revealing such a powerful truth to someone who had just emerged from a coma. But rationality seemed to elude me in the presence of his piercing gaze, which stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within me.

A heavy silence hung in the air, so palpable that even the faintest sound would have shattered it. He stared at me, his lips sealed shut, his eyes betraying nothing.

"Get out of here," he commanded, his voice cutting through the stillness.

I stood rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend his demand. Meeting his gaze head-on, I felt a surge of empathy, realizing that he harbored nothing but disdain for me.

For an entire year, I had been by his side, despite the questionable motives that brought me here. I had spoken to him, cared for him, and even sung him lullabies, all while knowing that I didn't truly desire him. But I had never treated him as a mere object, never stooped so low. It was unfathomable that he would cast me aside without even attempting to understand who I am.

"Did you not hear me? Or must I summon one of my men to remove you from my sight?" he calmly inquired.

I raised my head defiantly, refusing to be intimidated by the danger that radiated from him. But deep down, panic courses through my veins.

"There's no need. I'll leave on my own," I asserted, refusing to bow my head.

Mrs. Eliza approached me without hesitation and took hold of my arm.

I never broke eye contact with him until it was my turn to turn my back and exit the room. My hands were sweaty, trembling with fear. The woman gently stroked my back, assuring me that I need not be afraid, that her lord Damon is a good person, and that I should understand that he had just awakened from a fateful coma.

I know she speaks the truth, but fear has consumed my body, and resentment has taken hold of my heart.

I made sure to have all my belongings transferred to the new room where I'd be staying, leaving nothing behind in that place. I have no desire to be near him or even catch a glimpse of his face until my anger subsides.

A part of me sees Mrs. Eliza's point, so I'll spend the rest of the day letting go of my anger and then try to establish a somewhat bearable friendship with him.

The idea of being stuck with him for a whole year is unbearable. I won't abandon Evans for anything.

As I sink onto the bed, tears of fury and helplessness flow down my cheeks. The way he's treated me has left a heavy burden on my soul. I know I can't demand kindness, as my motives aren't pure, but I had hoped for a bit of respect in front of his family. If the head of the household doesn't show me respect, can I expect it from anyone else? I highly doubt it.

I wept because I realized my life had once again been thrown into chaos. My time in this house won't be pleasant anymore. It'll be a living nightmare. Damon had risen from the underworld, ready to wage war on me, and make my existence a total agony in his presence.

…

“Madam, you fell asleep in the same clothes as yesterday. The sun is already up, you should head down for breakfast soon.”

Confused, I glanced at my attire and then went out to the balcony. The room was already bathed in sunlight.

"Is he awake?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"He's waiting for you in the dining room. Hurry up and get ready. Maybe you can make a good impression,” Mrs. Eliza advised.

With a sigh, I realized she was right. If I wanted to uphold my family's legacy and run the company, I needed to at least attempt to be on good terms with him.

After a quick shower, I put on a simple yet elegant melon-colored dress. I styled my hair in loose waves and applied a touch of makeup. Dressing up wasn't really my thing, but if I wanted him to take me seriously, I had to make an effort.

Nervously, I made my way to the dining room. Mrs. Eliza greeted me with a smile as I entered. I chose a seat far away from him, but he didn't seem to mind.

Seated at the head of the table in his wheelchair, he exuded an air of authority, holding a cup of coffee. It was the first time I saw him dressed in something other than silk pajamas, and I couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked. The black shirt accentuated his skin tone, revealing a hint of muscle beneath.

"Good morning," I greeted him, my voice trembling slightly.

One look at one of his guard dogs was enough for the man to take the cup from his hand and place it on the table. He crossed his fingers over his legs, and looked at me like a wild animal about to eat me.

"I know what they did while I was in a coma, and I don't blame you. I admit, I often let things slide because of my deep respect and admiration for them."

I released a slow exhale, feeling a bit more at ease knowing he wasn't upset about it.

"Your family was nice. I'm sure they mean well," I said.

He arched his thick eyebrows, studying me with curiosity.

"Wow, you seem to have adjusted quite nicely to marrying a man in a coma," he remarked casually, though something in his tone hinted otherwise. I stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't about adapting, it was a tradition I had imposed on myself. "If you happen to get pregnant, we'll arrange for an abortion right away. I don't want a child with you," he stated bluntly.

"What are you saying?"

My lips quivered, feeling as though my soul had left my body, and my face was undoubtedly drained of color, reflecting the horror his cruel words instilled in me.

"You'll stay at my place until we find out if you're carrying my child. If you are, we'll take you to the doctor to terminate the pregnancy, you'll recover, and then we'll part ways. You'll leave with nothing, no ties to me or my wealth. If you're not pregnant, you'll still leave empty-handed," he said calmly.

The calmness in his voice sent shivers down my spine, my body trembling, my temples pulsating, and my breath becoming shallow.

Damon Lombardi had brought me a living nightmare, one that was far from over, and regardless of the outcome of the artificial insemination, it would result in my exile. My wretched fate.