Chapter 6 ✔️

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PoV Riccardo

"Papà?" Isabella walked up to me, wearing a cute pink dress with little lace flowers. But the expression on her face did not bode well. She was living with us now for four weeks and I had realized that she loved to throw a hissy fit if she did not get her way.

"Sì, bambina? Che c'è? What is wrong?" I wanted her to pick up Italian fast, therefore I often spoke in both languages to get her used to it. Giovanni had told me that it should be easier for her to learn our native tongue at this age than in a couple of years, since small children were capable to pick up languages faster.

"I told you that I hate dresses. Why do you make me wear them? Mommy never did that." She gave me her best death stare. My little one was still adorable. I suppressed the urge to take her in my arms and cuddle her.

"Gattina, you know you can't scare me. And I want you to wear dresses, since that is what girls and women do." That is how it would always be in this household.

"But mommy doesn't wear dresses. Why should I?" She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. Quite an attitude for such a small one.

"Don't roll your eyes at me. I don't condone your behavior," I raised my voice, clenching my hands, then unclenching them again. She was a small, naive child, I reminded myself.

"You are mean! I want trousers. Not a stupid dress." She turned around and stormed off.

Cazzo! What did this woman teach her daughter? Girls had to wear skirts and dresses, simple as that. And I had no time to think about this shit.

Sighing I turned my attention back to the documents on my desk. My alcohol supplier was causing trouble again. He wanted to increase prices, explained it with an increased administrative effort. He could go suck a dick. I massaged my temples and thought about the choices I had.

Option A: Threaten him and risk a visit from authorities. Threatening him would work, but he would send the cops afterwards. Two of his slimy family members were working for the MPD, the Milwaukee Police Department. Another one was a lawyer. Thus, this was not genuinely an alternative, particularly since I promised my father to keep a low profile.

Option B: Accept the enlarged prices for my restaurants, clubs, and the casino. Would have to raise my charges as well, to keep my margin. But that might drive customers away. Although we were operating in the highest segment, the guests would not enjoy increased prices.

Option C: Stay silent for a while and wait for him to become nervous. In all likelihood the best choice, since he hated it to be ignored. Besides, if the mafia was quiet, you had to worry. It was a threat without threatening someone directly.

Well, option C it was. Now I could have a look at the details I got about Isabella's mother. I opened the drawer and took the document folder out. Skimming through the info, I got mad at my employees. How could they miss this the first time I asked them to investigate her? Since she did not have a job, I had been curious how she got the money to pay for her expenses. Well, she did open a bank account a few months before giving birth to Isabella. She deposited a large sum: three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Despite this amount, she lived in such a shitty neighborhood. Or to not be found, or to not spend too much money. She still had more than enough in her bank account. Without her daughter and living in her new apartment, she would be able to start fresh.

Still no info about her education, but Romano did find her library card. He did speak to a female librarian there. Flirted a bit with her to get her talking. Isabella's mom had been there a lot with her daughter, and not solely for children's books. They had spent hour after hour there, reading different books. Most interesting was the type of stuff the mother read, business books for self-study. The woman must have some education to be able to understand those. My curiosity grew, and I would make sure that one of my men would follow her after she recovered. I put the folder back in my drawer. So far neither my father nor my sotto nor my consigliere had noticed my newfound spark of interest in that woman, and I wanted to keep it like that. For this reason, I had gotten myself the roster of the nurses at the hospital. Knowing that Alyssa would not be there today, I grabbed my car keys and left my mansion.

Driving to this dreadful place I thought about the situation. I still did not like the idea to share Isabella, but at the same time I wanted her mother to be safe. Idiota. When did I start caring for a mediocre woman? That was what I got for spending some nightly hours at the hospital, watching her sleep. Well, if you could call a coma sleep. I had no idea if that was the correct term. She looked genuinely peaceful the night before. Her body was stabilizing, her wounds healing well. But she had not woken up so far.

As usual I sneaked into her room without someone noticing me, switching on a small light next to her bed. The monotonously beeping of the machines greeted me. Somehow, I slept better after spending a couple of hours here. Maybe this was some sort of hypnosis. Smirking I shook my head. Surely, I was going insane slowly.

I sat down next to the woman. Took her small hand in my big one. I had been doing this for the last few times I had visited her. Which had been every night that Alyssa was not working. Since she was only a part-timer, I had been here a lot. Although this woman in front of me was of no importance to me, I kept coming back. I sighed. No, nobody in my family could know. Gently I squeezed the hand of Isabella's mother. This woman was too fragile for her own good.

"Today Isabella threw a hissy fit. She still hates to wear dresses. Why the heck did you teach her it was okay for a girl to wear trousers? Anyway, she misses you a lot." I stopped to have a look at the heart rate monitor. A few days ago, I had noticed that her pulse became a bit faster when I talked to her. The subject did not matter. If it was about her daughter or the weather, her body responded to my voice. Through Mario, I knew that she usually did not react to any of the doctors or nurses.

"Why are you only reacting when I talk to you? Should I feel honored? Or is it something else?" I thought back to the moment on the playground. If I had not aroused her suspicion, she would not be here. I lowered my gaze. If she had not run from me, then Isabella would not be with me either. Yes, I felt responsible for the situation. Possibly those scum would have tried to take a different child if I had not scared her away. I stared at her pale face. For the first time I noticed her natural long thick lashes. Gently I caressed her cheek. Her skin was as soft as the skin of a newborn. Her full lips were a little blueish, but I was sure that their usual color would be a delicious pink. My thumb ran over them as if by itself. I leaned over to her, inhaling her sweet natural scent. My breath brushed her skin. Hypnotized I kissed her softly on her cheek. The accelerated beeping of the machine brought me back to senses. My hand, which was still holding hers, felt a little tremble. I looked at the monitor and realized I had to disappear fast. If I interpreted everything right, then she was waking up.

"I have to go. Don't forget, Isabella is safe with me. You don't have to worry anymore."

Hearing footsteps getting closer, I hid in the shadows. The night nurse rushed in, switched on the big lights while her eyes went straight to the monitors, and I sneaked out silently.

When I walked back to my car, I thought about this new situation. Even if she remembered her daughter, she would not know where to look for her. Maybe I should send her an anonymous letter with a picture of Isabella to assure her that everything was fine. But only if she remembered anything at all. I would instruct Giovanni to tell his sister-in-law to inform us about every tiny new development. Alyssa, although she did not work for me, was tied to our family by her sister Lucia. She was a reliable source. I had to make sure that everyone believed I wanted to know the details for Isabella. To prevent that anyone in my family would get a wrong idea. If any of them knew about the kiss, they would kidnap the woman and drag her themselves into my mansion. She might end up handcuffed in my bed. Would not be a first.

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Will Stella remember right away at least some parts of her past? 

How much likely is this after a coma of four weeks?

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