Heir To The Mafia (Milo's Novella) - COMPLETE

14. Pain

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️
Talks about domestic abuse
&
Attempted sexual assault

Milo

"It all started when I was fifteen."

Okay calm down, Milo. You can do this.

I take a deep breath and look towards Isabelle to see her already looking at me.

My hands start to shake and I internally curse at myself for showing any weakness. But when I feel a small hand on top of mine, I look up to see my wife giving me a gentle smile. Her soft, warm hand on top of mine calmed me down. I turn my hand to intertwine our fingers and place them on my lap. I look away from her and stare at the ground before I start speaking.

"Believe it or not, I was actually a pretty happy kid." I chuckle but there's no humor in it.

"Grayson, Em—Amelia, and my grandparents helped raise me to be loved and cared for because of how I was found at just five years old. I was beaten up on the side of the road with no food or a place to sleep. I would usually just sleep on an old cardboard box with newspapers as blankets. I was abandoned as a child and didn't trust anyone. Until Amelia found me. She fed me and took care of me. I didn't trust her as first because I thought she would hurt me but she was the complete opposite. She took me back to her place and cared for me. She fed me, gave me a place to sleep, taught me how to read and write. She was the mother I've always wanted and later on, Grayson became the father I craved for."

Deep breaths, Milo.

"On my fifteen birthday, I decided to ask my uncle, Michael, to look up who my biological parents were. I didn't want to go back to them because I was happy with where I was but I was so curious and wanted to confront them and ask why they left me. After finding their location I had Michael promise not to tell Grayson or Amelia because I knew they would worry. I got on a flight to New York and next thing I know, I was on their front door step. It was a beaten up trailer with broken windows and the smell of alcohol and drugs everywhere."

My hands start shaking again and Isabelle lifts them from my lap so she can straddle me. Not in a sexual way but in a way so that she could face me and let me know that she's here with me.

"You don't have to continue." She whispers, cupping my face so I can look at her. I shake my head because I want to continue. I exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding and continue.

"A woman with long dark brown hair and brown eyes opened the door when I knocked. She looked so much like me but her face was sunken in and I could see her bones because she was so skinny. When I told her that I was her son, she didn't show any emotions but she let me in anyway. Three other men were in the small trailer as well and when I spotted one man in particular, I knew that he was my father. He also had brown hair and brown eyes but with a long beard that covered most of his face. He was a scary looking motherfucker and I was nervous to be around them because they were looking at me so weird. All I wanted to do was confront them and yell at them for giving up on me. But when my mother slam the door shut and pushed me towards them. I knew I was fucked. At first it was small touches on my legs and arms, but then it became worse."

I feel tears prickle my eyes and Isabelle hold on me tightens. She starts rubbing my shoulders and arms to comfort me and I wrap my arms around her.