𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚

Chapter 45

Written 10/24/21

TW!! ⚠️Violence and Death⚠️

We eventually arrived home after what felt like a lifetime of driving. The roads were covered in snow, and no matter how high we turned up the heat it was still freezing in the car.

I had tried to sleep in Cristiano's lap, but my anxiety kept me awake. The car stopped at the front of the house, and a guard opened the door for us. Cristiano carried me out of the car and into the house.

I figured that he might put me down when we got through the door, but he didn't. He carried me all the way to the stairs. As we went up the staircase, I saw Livianna. She looked terrified. I noticed she was bruised, and she had a black eye.

That fucking bastard. I thought to myself. I wanted to find Diavolo and torture him, the same way he tortured her. Before I could even give her a second glance Cristiano had walked up the rest of the staircase.

We made it to the bedroom, where he sat me down on the bed. He went back and shut the door. There was some sort of tension, I could sense it. And it made me sick to my stomach.

He looked over his shoulder at me ominously. He turned around and leaned against the door. He reached his hand up to the door nob and locked it. I sat completely still, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

"What's wrong?" He asks sternly. I stared back at him, not knowing how to answer.

"N-nothing." I say, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

He slowly started to walk towards me. I felt so nervous I felt like I was sweating, even though it was freezing. He stood in front of me, and brought his hands up to my face.

"Giada..." He says slowly moving his hands down to my neck.

"I'll always remember you." Suddenly his hands start to tighten around my throat.

I struggled to breath. I brought my hands up to his wrists, and tried to break his hands away from my neck. He forced me down on the bed, his grip growing tighter around my neck.

"Stop." I croaked, I could barely even hear myself. At first I thought this was some sort of kink, or some sick sexual fantasy of his, until I saw his eyes. When I looked into his eyes, I knew, he wanted to kill me.

I began kicking, and clawing at his hands. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I could feel my windpipe being crushed, and my lungs burning.

Tears started to stream down my face. A part of me hoped that his hands would loosen eventually, maybe he was just teaching me a lesson for some reason. But his hands just kept squeezing my neck tighter and tighter. The worst part was, I understood why he was doing this. There was a possibility I couldn't have children. I was a problem that needed to be taken care of. Cristiano's life was devoted to the Mafia, not to me. And that devotion was going to cost me my life.

I started to cry even harder. I didn't want to die. I don't think I deserved to die. I looked into his eyes, pleading with him to stop. I was kicking, hitting, and scratching at him, but he wouldn't stop. Soon I realized, I was going to die. Cristiano was a man who got what he wanted. Always. And he wanted me dead.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I didn't want him to be the last thing I saw when I died. I shut my eyes, and tried to think of something, anything to take my mind off of the fear and the pain.