THIS STORY IS ABOUT TO REACH 4MIL READS. THANK YOU ALL, I GENUINELY CANT WRAP MY HEAD AROUND THAT ❤️
Song: Daniel Cesar, H.E.R - best part (slowed + reverb)
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Giana
Motherfucking bitch.
This can't be happening. It just can't.
A knock echos through the small room and I snap my head up towards the door. "Excuse me, Miss Galanti?"
Miss Galanti.
I can already feel the tiny little prickles of tears welling behind my eyes.
This can't be happening.
My life is completely and utterly ruined.
"What?" I snap, wiping at the few stray tears that'd managed to escape.
Rule number one in Common Curtesy 101, never fucking interrupt someone that could be taking a giant shit.
"Sorry to be a bother." Her voice sounds from the other side. "But I have packed the dress up for you. I do apologize for the wait. We don't get window shoppers demanding to buy a one of a kind dress right off the rack." She laughs nervously. "Much less a wedding dress."
My teeth begin to ache from how hard I'm clenching them and my eyes narrow at the white door.
Fuck that one of a kind Alexander McQueen wedding dress.
I'd been eyeing it for months, driving past the cute little boutique on Madison Avenue and the day I decide to finally come purchase it right off the rack, this fucking happens.
I shove the stupid little white stick back into my handbag and storm out of the washroom, nearly running into the nosy boutique clerk.
The lady yelps and I sidestep her to move straight towards the front doors while her hurried footsteps sound behind me. "Excuse me Miss, what are you doing?"
"Leaving."
"But- what would you like me to do with the dress?"
"I don't want it." I grit out, grabbing my coat and tossing aside the complementary champagne she'd brought out.
"That's ridiculous. You already paid for it." She chimes in from behind me. "Aren't you going to want a dress for your wedding?"
My wedding?
"There is no wedding." I snap. I came in here on a whim after I'd checked the voicemail at the penthouse to find a message from the man that handled Alessio's finances, saying that the transfer of funds to the Blue Nile company was complete.
I had no idea why the message was sent to the landline that no one used. It must have been a mistake on their part because Blue Nile was a jewelry company, and there was only one piece of jewelry I could imagine him spending six figures on.
Which meant that Alessio had finally pulled his head out of my ass and decided he was going to propose.
I spin around and send the clerk a glare. "Burn it. Keep it. Give it to one of the crackheads on the street. I don't care. Just get it away from me." Her eyes widen in response and I withhold the urge to scream.
Maybe I would've felt bad for being such a bitch if she hadn't glanced me up and down the second I walked in here, and told me that the dress would only fit after I lost ten pounds.
I'd already been feeling a little insecure about my fluctuating weight. Not to mention, I was a stress eater and in New York, I was stressed all the fucking time.
The heels of my Prada boots click as I turn and stomp out of the shop, trying my best to storm down the street - for added dramatic effect - but since I'm in the middle of the fucking North Pole, my attempt is futile.
Did I ever mention how much I fucking hated this city?
When I wasn't nearly breaking my back on black ice, or sitting in a fucking Taxi for an hour to get less than a mile, I was getting harassed by crackheads and getting pick pocketed.
Yes, I had some of Alessio's men always trailing me but even they were no match for the busy streets of New York City.
I'd been putting up with this shithole for four years. Four fucking years of car horns and shitty weather.
I missed the California sun.
I round the corner and storm down the street, passing the black sky scraper that's ironically right across from the off white coloured one Alessio owned and we lived in.
I step away from the large black building and make a move to cross the street when a black beat up charger pulls away from the curb and rushes down the street, nearly knocking me on my ass.
"Asshole." I mutter, glaring at the back of the car as it speeds by, cutting off other cars, causing an even bigger traffic jam.
I knew that car and I knew the psycho sitting behind the wheel. Another con of living in New York City, I lived in the building across the street from the Grip Reaper.
I had no idea what kind of stick was always shoved up Nico Blaine's ass, but I wished it somehow found a way to his heart and killed him.
I'm greeted by warm air as I step into the lobby of my building and head into the elevator, hitting the button for the last floor, cursing every damn thing about this wretched city.
I was high maintenance, there was no denying that. And Alessio was doing a good job of handling it, but New York City was hard on the both of us.
It's been only four years since moving out here yet I'd managed to take off at least ten years from Alessio's life and while I felt horrible about it, the city was to blame.
I wanted to move back home, but I'd already made Alessio uproot his entire life to follow me here. And while he'd give me anything I wanted, I knew it would put more stress on him.
So, I'd just have to wait until he came around.
Only it wasn't easy. He was constantly away on business, Marco had moved back to California needing to be closer to La Famiglia and I'd sent Cucci with him after realizing that she wasn't happy in the city.
Leaving me all alone.
Sure, I was now leading the Juilliard Chamber Orchestra from the piano and meeting world renowned musicians, but it meant nothing when I came back to an empty penthouse.
And right now, the loneliness of an empty penthouse makes everything that much worse. That is until I step out of the elevator and am instantly greeted by the sound of Italian curses blaring off the walls.
I practically throw off my coat and boots, chasing the sound of his rich voice until it takes me to the living room where I catch sight of my Italian Adonis.
Alessio was back from his trip.
Only the excitement instantly vanishes as my hands tighten around my handbag and I'm reminded of what's inside. Swallowing thickly, I clutch my bag in my hands and slowly make my way towards him.
The penthouse is grand, bright and I'd had it designed to emit a comfortable elegance, yet as I walk towards the couch and eye the man I was going to be forever tied to, the nervousness makes my stomach turn and I suddenly have the urge to vomit, again.
I push down the urge and instead, focus on the closest thing to a perfect man sitting on the couch, spewing threats to the person on the other end in Italian.
He's sat at the far edge of the sofa, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch, the folded sleeves of his white dress shirt exposing his veiny forearms and the expensive watch I'd gotten him for Christmas. While his legs, clad in a pair of slacks, are crossed in front of him.
The sight of true business man, one that barely had time for a me let alone another being.
Alessio's head tips to the side, his hard brown eyes connecting with mine and instantly softening. The look so overwhelmingly loving that every ounce of fight left inside me crumbles and I have the urge to cry.
He lifts a hand, ushering me over and I throw my purse on the far side of the couch, ignoring what's inside for the time being. I walk towards him until I'm close enough where he grabs my hand, uncrosses his legs and pulls me down into his lap.
Like clock work, my knees end up on the outside of his thighs and I straddle him, loving the way I'm engulfed by his familiar musky scent as his thick accent fills my ears, "se non puoi aggiustarlo da solo, allora che senso ha lasciarti tenere le tue fottute mani?"
(if you can't fix it yourself then whats the point of letting you keep your fucking hands?)
Despite his words, a hand buries itself in my hair and his fingers begin to lightly massage my scalp while he angles his head away from the phone to place a kiss on the side of my head. "Ciao, Principessa." He murmurs in that deep, throaty voice of his. (Hi, Princess.)
My shoulders immediately drop along with my head as I bury it into the crook of his neck, not bothering with a verbal response. I didn't want to talk, I wanted to bask in the few moments of normal before everything went to shit.
He continues spewing his threats into the phone and I shut my eyes, trying to muster up the strength to break the news to him.
I don't realize he's hung up the phone until his hands travel down to my bare thighs and his palms run along the cold skin, back and forth, the friction warming me up. "Cazzo, why are you wearing a dress in this weather?"
I lift my head and stare up at him, his brows are furrowed, his lips are set in a frown as he stares down at my mini dress. My jeans were all too uncomfortable, but I don't tell him that. "Are you trying to give yourself frostbite?" He continues, in that hard reprimanding tone that fades to a murmur as he moves forward to run his lips along my cheek.
His stubble prickles the skin of my cheek and I lean into his touch while his hands move beneath the hem of my dress until he's grabbing a handful of my ass. "You need to start being more responsible."
I sigh out and angle my head back, allowing his lips to travel down to the junction where my jaw meets my neck, his kisses are soft as he lightly brushed his lips against my skin and the feeling is indescribable. I loved when he was around.
"You're one to talk." I mumble.
"And why is that?" He hums softly, his hands now rubbing my outer thighs, his skin so warm against mine.
I rest my hands on his shoulders as my eyes lift to the ceiling in hopes of pushing past the waterworks, "Because you're the one that..." I trail off, while Alessio moves down to run his lips along my jaw, completely oblivious to my turmoil.
He shifts me on his lap and nips at my earlobe, "That what, baby. Come on, talk to me." He shifts me on his lap and nips at my earlobe. "You didn't call me today and I missed my girl's voice."
And that does it.
Like a dam, I burst into tears right there in his lap, while the poor man stills before curse under his breath.
"What's wrong?" He doesn't bother hiding the confusion on his face as he cups the side of mine, his thumb roughly brushing away the tears.
Everything yet nothing at the same time.
There was so much I wanted to say, but what I'd managed was a jumbled up sentence. "The dress doesn't fit."
I don't even need to look at his face to know that he's confused, but instead of questioning me, he wipes more tears. "I'll buy you a new one, Principessa. There's no reason to cry."
That only makes it worse. A choked sob erupts from my throat. "You can't. It was a one of a kind Alexander McQueen wedding dress and it's not going to fit me ever again."
He pulls my face closer to his, "We'll figure something out-wedding dress?" His eyes widen and his shoulders straighten out. "We're getting married?"
I send him a glare and wipe at my tears angrily. "Not anymore."
He blinks again, before sighing out and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Giana, baby what's happening? What did I do?"
I manage to reach over, grab my purse and pull out the white pregnancy test, "This!" I scream throwing the white stick at him and watching as it hits his forehead before landing in his lap between us.
He sends me a glare one that morphs into confusion the second he picks up the white sticks. And then I watch it all in slow motion as his face goes from one of confusion, to understanding and finally, distress.
"Is it mine?" Is the first thing out of the idiots mouth.
Anger bubbles up my throat and I push at his chest getting off him. "No, it's Ethan's." I snap.
He stands and in an instantly his hand is darting out to grip my jaw, the look in his eyes hard. "Don't joke about shit like that."
"Would you rather I cry about it?!" I scream as my lower lip quivers.
Is it mine? Who fucking says something like that?
He stares at me, processing this information before shaking his head, his eyes shut and he pinches the bridges of his nose. "Cazzo."
But I don't care, I'm already turning around and storming away from him and towards the walk-in closet of our bedroom.
Screw him. Did he not want a baby? I mean, I had my doubts but it hurt to know that he didn't want a baby with me.
Footsteps sound behind me and I angrily wipe my tears."Well... it's your fault for never using a condom!"
It was true, the man never wore a condom and always finished either on me or inside me.
I make it into the closet just as he catches my hand, spinning me around and pulling my body flush against his. "That's not what I meant." He breathes, his chest heaving as he cradles my face in his large hands. "This isn't terrible news, baby." He mumbles softly, kissing my cheek.
The tears don't stop, not as he kisses my other cheek, not as he swiftly lifts me onto the counter and not even as he steps between my parted legs.
I cry softly while he murmurs little words of encouragement before begining to remove the socks off my feet. His movements soft and the way he handles me with such care pulls at my heartstrings.
"I hate kids." I finally mumble, staring down at him on his knees before me.
He kisses my calves, working his way up my leg. "Because they're annoying little shits raised by even bigger pieces of shit." He murmurs, kissing up my other leg. The look on his face, promising. "You won't hate your own kid."
He had a point, how could I possibly hate a byproduct of Alessio and I?
He stands and steps between my parted thighs, and I take the opportunity to begin undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, while his large hands run up and down my thighs. "You're horrible with children." I point out, staring at his chest.
"I'll learn to be better for my own." He says seriously.
Strong hands grasp onto the hem of my dress."You really mean that?" I ask, hesitantly looking up at him as I let him lift my dress over my head.
He nods, throwing the dress somewhere behind him before he pauses and glances at my face, his brows drawing together, his voice growing serious. "You do want to have my baby, yes?"
"No, I do." I sigh, running my hands along the bare strip of skin exposed from his unbuttoned dress shirt. I focus on tracing the indents of muscle on his abdomen, my voice small. "Do you want me to have your baby?"
His fingers slip under the wiring of my bra and his thumbs run along the indents left from my bra. Not only were my hips a little wider, but my bras were getting tighter.
The dumbfounded look on Alessio's face intensifies as he watches my face. "Are you being serious?"
I nod. "The thought of you carrying my baby..." He breathes, his eyes darting down to my stomach, his chocolate coloured eyes sparkling in amazement and it warms my heart.
Alessio's chest heaves as he exhales before dropping his head and pushing his face between my breasts, groaning from deep in his throat before placing a chase kiss against each of them. "Cazzo, baby it does things to me." His deep voice is muffled by the skin of my breasts and the vibration of his voice tickles.
I jump slightly, but his words ease some of my worries and I bite down on my bottom lip, burying my fingers into his hair, keeping him there. "Good or bad?"
"Fottutamente fantastico." He grunts as I run my nails through his scalp. (Fucking amazing.)
"veramente?" I ask, meekly. I'd thought he'd be disgusted by it. "You don't find it..." I shift uncomfortably and he lifts his head, looking down at me curiously. "Like... disgusting?" (Really?)
I was going to be growing a baby inside me. It meant swollen ankles, morning sickness, hormone imbalances and everything else.
I once remembered Mamá telling me how papá hadn't even looked her way when she was pregnant with me, saying she was too undesirable.
His smoothes a hand down my stomach and when he looks down between us, I follow his gaze to see the bulge straining his slacks. "Does it look like I'm disgusted?"
I stare down at him and throw my head back with a giggle in relief. "Seriously? That turns you on?"
He also throws his head back, only unlike me, he groans out while his hands find my hips and he steps closer "You're going to be walking around with my baby inside you."
I open my mouth to respond but before I can get a word out, he attacks my neck nipping, kissing and sucking at the skin while I squirm. "I have-" He says into the skin of my neck, "No idea-" His teeth graze and nip my ear, "how I'm gonna-" he kisses a trail from my ear down my neck, "suppress the urge to be inside you every second of every day."
And all my insecurities fade as my confidence kicks back in. "Really?"
"Mhm." The sound of his deep hum is followed by the clanking of his belt. "Like right now."
I smile, my body thrumming with the urge to give in but I stop myself. "Wait." I say, placing my hand hand atop his, stopping him. "We can't just fuck it out. We need to think rationally, I still have some questions and concerns." I say, hating that for once I was being the responsible one.
He doesn't complain like I thought he would, he simply places a kiss on my forehead "Okay, go ahead, I'm listening." He says, moving towards his side of the closet and begins to remove his watch.
I swing my feet and bite my lower lip. "We're not even married, yet. What's Fefe gonna say?"
Alessio's Nona has been talking about great grand babies since she'd first heard the news about us. But she was a strict Catholic. She wouldn't survive hearing about us having a kid out of wedlock.
"I'll call my guy and have us married within the next hour."
"But I want a wedding." I say as I jump off the counter as Alessio's eyes stray down to my bra clad breasts as they bounce with the movement.
His tongue peeks out to wet his lower lip, while he absentminded pulls off his dress shirt, tossing it towards the other side of the room. "Then I'll give you a wedding."
I roll my eyes at him and walk over to the pile of clothes, tossing them into the laundry hamper. Alessio was such a messy person.
"But then it's in-genuine." I pause infront of the full length mirror, my attention going to the sight of myself as I continue. "You haven't even proposed."
I hear him sigh from across the room before I catch his familiar form in the mirror as he walks up behind me, but I focus on the sight of my stomach.
I wasn't showing yet, but it was weird to know that there was currently a little human in there.
One that Alessio and I made, meaning the little thing was gonna be cute as hell.
I look up when Alessio's arms come around me, hugging me from behind. He dips his head, crouching to bury his head into the side of neck and I smile at the sight of this large man hugging me like a teddy bear.
His hand comes into my line of vision and I tear my focus from my body clad in nothing but my bra and panties to his palm, where a navy blue box lies. "I was going to wait till later in the week." He murmurs, his elbows resting on my shoulders and his chin atop my head.
His low accented voice fills my ear. "But you'll marry me, yes?"
My eyes light up as he opens the box and when I catch sight of the diamond on the ring, I gasp out. "It's so pretty and shiny." I exclaim, eyeing the intricate detailing on the sides and all the little diamonds on the band.
"I ask you to marry me and that's the first thing you say?" I hear him grumble from behind.
Ignoring him, I reach for the ring, but he holds it out of my reach while a hand grips my neck and he tips my head back so his face can hover over mine. "Tell me you'll you'll marry me and be my wife."
Oh yeah- he was proposing.
I smile up at him sheepishly, dragging my mind away from planning the nail colour combos that would compliment the ring and nod. "Yes."
"Bene." He nods, and the second he slips the ring on my finger, I turn around and jump him with an excited squeal.
He catches me with a hand around my waist, stumbling back a step before hungrily diving in for a kiss.
Our lips meet and his are warm, inviting and mold perfectly against mine. His tongue tangles with mine and I wrap my legs around his bare torso while he tilts my head and deepens the kiss.
His hands find their way to my ass and his fingers begin kneading the skin, but I pull away first while he begins placing kisses down my jaw. "Does this mean you won't be away on business all the time?"
He pauses, the muscles in his shoulders contracting. "Principessa, you know I can't control-" and the moment of happiness bursts like an inflated balloon.
I move to unravel my legs but he walks back towards the counter, placing me down. "You're always away on business and I'm always alone. I can barely handle it now. But with a baby." My throat tightens at the thought and I look away from him. "I can't do it alone, Alessio."
I couldn't keep living like this.
"I know, baby. I know." He rubs a hand along his jaw in thought and I stare at the man who I barely got to see.
I love him, but these past 4 years have felt like a long distance relationship, and I wasn't a long distance girl.
He stays silent for a long moment, lost in thought and I realize that he's gonna need more of an incentive, I decide to give him another one.
"don't know how many more nights I can spend alone..." I trail my finger down his chest, taking a different approach. My eyes move back and meet his while I bite down on my lip. "There's only so much my vibrator can do, Alessio."
He stills and glances up at me. "Cazzo, you still have that?"
I trace the taut muscles on his abdomen and nod. "It brings me more orgasms than you do these days."
His eyes narrow. "We fuck on the phone almost every night. Is that not enough?"
I purse my lips and look away from him. Alessio wasn't a typical businessman. He didn't have a set list of hours he worked. His schedule was hard to work around.
Sex was phenomenal, every single time. And the phone sex was no different, except when he called at four in the morning. The man was able to bring himself to an orgasm with nothing but the sound of my breathing.
Alessio pauses and slowly lifts his head, "You always finish, yes?"
"Yeah." I breathe, pulling him forward and tracing a path from his navel down towards his clothed erection.
It wasn't a lie, I did finish, but there were some times where I was far too tired to even try. I needed my beauty rest and it wasn't the same without him here. "It's just not the same as having the real thing."
I can sense his hesitance, and I knew that he was onto me. Alessio had gotten better at detecting my lies.
Moving forward, I begin to pepper kisses along the underside of his jaw and when it still seems like he's not going to let this go, I slip mg hand beneath the waistband of his slacks, fisting his hard dick.
He stands tense, glaring at nothing in particular before he grabs my wrist, yanks it out from beneath his pants and grips my chin.
"You faked an orgasm?" He asks, his face scrunching up in pure disbelief and I watch the way his eyes flicker across my face, searching for something that he finds and apparently makes him angry.
Oh shit.
"Not faked." I say cringing when his face turns even deadlier and his jaw tightens. "More like... over exaggerated. But it was only once or twice." I assure.
"Once or twice?!" He snaps, his temper flaring as he steps away from me and begins to go through the drawers in the room.
It was rare that Alessio raised his voice or got so angry he'd curse in Italian at me. But as I watched the bare chested man in nothing but a pair of slacks with his belt buckle undone begin to tear through the closet, spewing insults, I knew he was losing his shit.
"Cazzo. Once or twice? You faked multiple fucking orgasm?" He bellows, as he goes into a fit of spewing curses and terms that I don't even know in Italian.
I can do nothing but watch him derail. "Never in my life had a woman ever faked an orgasm." He breathes, shaking his head and slamming a drawer shut.
"How do you know that?" I blurt, eyeing my vibrator in his hands.
He stiffens and when he strides towards me, the look on his face is hard. "You really want the details?"
My jaw tightens, "No." I snap, suddenly angry at the thought of him having other people before me.
"How many orgasms did you fake exactly?" He demands, slipping the vibrator into the crotch of my panties. "Don't lie to me."
My brows furrow at him. "Why does it-" I jolt, my body jumping when I feel him cup me over my panties, hard.
But it gets worse when he turns on the vibrator.
"My girl fakes her orgasms, yes?" He seethes, my hand shoots out to grip onto his forearm for support while I squirm. My nails dig into his flesh but the more I squirm the harder he pushes the little bullet shaped vibrator into my clit and the vibrations send waves through my body.
"Alessio-" I choke out.
"You know, I think I read somewhere that pregnant women grew far more sensitive." I try to snap my legs shut but he steps in between them, pushing the vibrator into me, while his palm grinds into me.
I gasp and writhe. I was far more sensitive than usual, so sensitive that I only ever used my vibrator on the lowest setting.
Alessio had it on the highest.
"So sensitive." He says, his voice low in my ear. "That they're orgasms are not only more intense." He breathes, squeezing me. "But easier to reach." I squirm, as he continues, "So easy that I bet I could make you finish by simply holding it against your little pussy for a few sec-"
I burst. Coming so hard that it shutters right through me, while my body pulses forward but he doesn't let go.
In fact, when I try to slide off the counter, he uses his free hand to push me back where I can do nothing but throw my head back and whine at the sensitivity, "You didn't think I'd letting you off that easily did you?l He asks.
I gasp as the pressure starts to build up again, the oversensitivity mixed with the overstimulation borderline uncomfortable. "Alessio. I can't-" I gasp, shutting my eyes.
He pushes his palm against me, gliding the bullet like object down towards my entrance while his thumb pushes down on my clit. "If you can fake multiple orgasms." He grunts, urging it so far that my pussy clenches around it. "You can take multiple too."
I writhe and wiggle but he holds me still, forcing me to take it. While I feel yet another buildup, this time the over stimulation too much for me to think straight. "I learned my lesson, Alessio." I pant, "Please-" a moan makes its way up my throat but turns into a gasp when he grabs my throat.
"Such a whiny little brat." He tsks at me, while my insides bubble and I feel like I'm going to explode.
"Alessio-" I gasp out as a second orgasm racks through my body at lightning speed and he prolongs it by circling my clit and rubbing the vibrator further into me.
I scream out while he stares down at me, his breathing ragged. "The next time you fake an orgasm, I won't stop. Not until you're begging for it." He spits, his breathing ragged. "Am I understood?"
I nod, my hips buckling off the counter but he doesn't stop, he merely raises a brow and I choke out a, "Yes."
He nods, seeming to be satisfied and pushes my head into the crook of his neck while I continue to pulse and spasm around my vibrator.
I whimper into his neck as his hand smoothes down the back of my head while his hand buried between my legs lowers the vibration to a tolerable pace and he's able to coax another orgasm from my body, this one gentle and slow.
"Almost there, Principessa." He murmurs, moving the vibrator and holding it against my clit while he eases a finger into me. He begins to leisurely pump in and out of me, and once again, I come undone with a loud moan muffled into the skin of his neck.
"Quella è la mia brava ragazza." He murmurs as I slump into him, my body completely spent and exhausted as he slowly pulls the vibrator out and throws it off to the side. (That's my good girl.)
I don't open my eyes but I hear the clank in the distance, "Careful." I mumble tiredly. "I need that."
He offers an annoyed grunt, "Not anymore."
I lift my head and stare up at him through hazy eyes. "Huh?"
His warm lips touch the skin of my forehead as he places a gentle kiss there and I eye him weirdly. "I'm going to need you to move back home after you graduate in a few months." He frowns and glances at my face, "I know it's not ideal but most of my work is in California and things here are getting dangerous with the Russians moving in..."
I don't listen to the rest of what he has to say, I simply bask in the sudden high that overwhelms me at the thought of moving back home.
When he's done, I respond but still make sure to mask my excitement. "If we have to go... then I'll manage." I sight out, slumping my shoulders in mock disappointment.
Alessio lifts my chin, "Good." He murmurs, placing a chaste kiss on my lips."You're happy now, yes?"
"Yes." I smile softly. "Are you happy?"
For the first time since seeing him today, he smiles so big that his dimples make an appearance. "I'm going to be a papà." He breathes.
A moment of silence passes between us as we stare into each other's eyes.
There's happiness, excitement and love there but neither of us can hide the fear lingering beneath the surface.
Most people weren't meant to be parents, our parents were prime examples of that.
None of us had proper role models, we didn't know what a stable family looked like and the thought of a raising a child terrified me.
All I had was mamá.
I loved her dearly, but I'd come to realize that just because I loved her it didn't mean she was a good mother.
Mamá had raised me, loved me but somewhere along the way my trauma had become a byproduct of hers.
Yet I couldn't find it in me to hate her, nor could I blame her.
She wasn't perfect, she was a woman who was thrown into a life she didn't want at an age where she was far too impressionable to differentiate between right and wrong. And it was all done by a man who shared half of my DNA.
A man who'd left a mark on the world in the worst possible way. Arturo Moretto had caused more harm than good, and like a butterfly affect, the repercussions were explosive.
I'd been cursed from the start.
"You really think we can take care of a baby?" I ask, searching Alessio's face to find a flicker of doubt but I didn't my find any.
"Yes." He says, "I've seen the way you take care of the the Tripawd." He continues and I swat at his chest, rolling my eyes at how he still refused to call Cucci by her name.
"You're going to be a good mamma, Giana. I promise." Alessio wraps a string arm around me, hugging me to his chest. "We're going to be good parents, better than the ones we had. We're going to have a family with kids."
He places a kiss on my forehead and I can't help the way I believe his words as he finishes off.
"And we'll raise them in our very own Hideaway."
𓆩❤︎𓆪
I have a really hard time writing 'happily ever afters' and I realized it's bc happiness is so temporary to me so I just can't wrap my head around a happily ever after.
Is that too dark? Probably.
I didn't want to make the smut detailed bc it would take away from the chapter, so I hope ur not too disappointed.
Also I'm going to be going through and edit this entire story.
I've already done it with some random chapters, but there are a lot of cringe/problematic things that I don't think I addressed properly and it has everything to do with the fact that I was writing the chapters the same day I was posting them, so I never got a chance to analyze them like I wanted to.
Also I realized too late that its mamma in Italian and not mamá 💀 so I'm gonna have to change that up.
P.S I highly suggest checking out my other story Runaway for more of Nico <3