Unraveling Him | A mafia Story

Chapter 18 - In my story, you're the hero

"You don't need a weapon at all when you were born one."

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Emma's POV

I work up alone in bed.

Alone.

That motherfucking Roman wasn't here.

I looked at my phone and saw the time almost hitting twelve in the afternoon. I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow; sleeping late wasn't my thing till that fucker knocked me up. I placed my hand over my stomach, talking with the small little bean, "You are draining all of my energy, and it's becoming really hard to love you, you know that," I groaned.

I rubbed a hand over my face before I got up to my feet, my body aching and tired. Great.

On lazy footsteps, I washed my face and changed my clothes before I left the room, searching for my lame excuse of a husband, and ready to make up a fight since he didn't wake me up earlier. I reached the kitchen but he wasn't anywhere in sight. Instead, my eyes fell onto his mother as she moved around, preparing food or something and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, as if I needed to wake up to this.

"Morning, sweetie," She said, noticing my presence, and flashing me one of her big affectionate smiles.

Don't swear at her, Emma, don't. Hold on a second. Breathe in and breathe out.

"Morning," I said, forcing on a smile I had no energy for, "Uh, where is Roman?" I asked, my eyes drifting around in pure loss.

"Oh, he left like two hours ago," She said.

That motherfucking bitch!

"He said he had something urgent to do but he'll be back soon," She added.

What urgent thing he had to fucking do without me? Someone missed my knives, I see.

"Why don't you join me for a late breakfast?" She suggested, hopeful to sit and get to know her angelic, sweet daughter in law better.

Ugh, I hate this. I hate Roman for putting me through this. He will pay for it with his blood.

I nodded my head, unable to find an excuse to run away before I sat down on the stool. Amanda's smile widened and she placed a plate full of pancakes, bacon, eggs and whatnot in front of me before she placed her own and sat down.

I tried my best not to look at the pancakes because last time I placed them in my mouth I ended throwing up and I can't do that now, or else she will suspect it. I gulped down, feeling my stomach acting up already. I pressed my palm against my thigh, fighting through the feeling and begging that life-form inside of me to stop messing with my body and emotions. Isn't it enough that it's stealing half of my food, what more does it want?

"Did you sleep well?" She asked, fishing for a conversation.

I nodded, internally thanking the stars as the nauseous feeling started to slowly fade away, "Yes, thank you," I said, giving her the smile she is seeking for, "You have a lovely house."

Her smile wasn't as bright as it was seconds ago and her gaze drifted from her plate to me, "It's okay, Emma, you don't need to pretend in front of me anymore," She said, her smile a bit sad and understanding, "I might not know Roman that well, but I can sense it when he is lying."

My eyebrows pulled closer at her observation, "So, just be yourself now, I'd appreciate it if you're honest with me."

I shook my head, "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, with a low chuckle, pretending this conversation is too silly to discuss.