The Mafia's Heir

Chapter 9

Neveah Russo

I wasn't sure how to react or respond to the news so instead I just froze there, the gun that was in my hand following to the ground.

Like a missing piece to the puzzle it all made sense, growing up I might have called him my father but he never treated me as his daughter. As for who my biological father is that's a mystery that shall remain unsolved.

Tears began rolling down my cheek as I was still in shock.

Ace wrapped his arms around my waist and embraced me into a warm hug and I hugged him back crying on his shoulder.

"It's alright will find out who your biological father is," he whispered into my ear as he rubbed my back soothingly.

His voice sent shivers down my spine and butterflies in my stomach.

He pulled away and looked into my eyes.

Before heading back to my room I poured gasoline all over the dead body of my deceased step dad before I lit it up with my lighter.

I went back to my room and I sat on the edge of the bed as a million thoughts circulated in my head.

I was interrupted by the knock on the door and glad for the distraction I stood up to go open the door myself.

"Are you okay ?," Raphael asked with a worried look on his face.

I nodded in response to his question making way for him to enter before locking the door shut.

He sat on the couch just in the corner of the room and I sat on his lap, running my fingers through his hair.

"Ace said he'll help me look into who my biological father is but it might take time so I was wondering if you would like to help me instead just to speed the process," I said hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

"Anything for you love." He said caressing my cheek.

He stood up with me still on his lap, his hands traveling to my bum for support and I giggled.

Soon he put me down on the kitchen counter.

"I'm going to make you some Italian soup, to cheer you up and also to prove to you I'm better at cooking than you could ever be." He said playfully and I hit his chest.

"We going there now?, I mean just because I burnt an entire dish once which was your fault by the way doesn't automatically mean I'm bad at cooking," I said crossing my arms like a five year old.

We talked for like 30 minutes whilst he was making the soup.

He handed me the bowl of soup with a teaspoon and I almost had a foodgasm.

"This tastes awful." I jokingly said and he sent me a glare.

Not that I would ever openly admit it to him that is his soup tasted amazing and it was just like the one my mom always used to make for me when I was sick or when we would argue about the simplest of things.

I got so consumed by my thoughts, I hadn't heard Raphael calling my name for the past two minutes. As much as I hate talking to a stranger about my trauma or rather my mother's death and how it affected me, I can't keep living like this. This isn't the first time that I'm pulled by my thoughts and I can't respond to anyone around me.

"Neveah are you okay?," He asked pulling me out of my daze.

"I need help, from a professional I just I-I can't keep going like this." I admitted playing with my fingers in my lap.

"It's okay I will put it upon myself to get you the help you need and the best one." He said embracing me in a hug.

Within no time, he had the plate out of my hands and placed it beside me. He pulled away from the hug before eyeing me for a second asking for permission. I silently nodded. He smashed his lips onto mine, tugging on my lip for entrance which I denied him and he bit my bottom lip instead drawing blood.