Amore mio 2

14.

Him.

It's been a week since we arrived home and got back to our beloved daily lives. Bambinos are with uncles, grandpa Juan and grandma Lillian in Madrid for a mini visit/trip; they will be back in 2 days. Everything was so perfectly, mellowly and delightfully. 

Until today. 

Until the clock hit midnight and there is still no goddamn sight of my Cami. 

She had last minute errand to run - I have no fucking clue what it is that it takes so goddamn long and it is driving me insane. I have contact with guards of my wife, but I have no goddamn contact with her. I know that guards will tell me if something gets wrong. Camila is beyond responsible person, I trust her with all my heart, soul and being.

But fucking hell, she is my wife - wife of Don of the biggest, the most notorious, the most influential, the most powerful, the richest Mafia. Cami is mother of our bambinos - children of the most influential and the most dangerous Don in the world. She is my exceedingly soft spot, my universe - she is the most wanted person in Mafia world by all means: key to me, key to Spanish and Italian Mafias, not to mention that she is crazily desired for her intelligence, beauty and power. 

This is more than enough for her to must answer my calls and texts, of which she has more than 200 by now. I need to hear from her that she is fine, guards are no guarantee that she is in one piece. 

Just...

Cazzo! 

I paced around the living room, dialling her again and again, being sent on voice mail for who the fuck knows what time. 

"Papà."- murmured Fran and Eli, capturing all of my attention. 

"Shh, va tutto bene, miei piccoli angeli."- I cooed my son and daughter, approaching the automatised crib, which is slowly rocking them. (Shh, everything is okay, my little angels.) 

Her.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I am in loads of trouble. 

I just know what is on my beloved man's mind and I know that this is not a good situation. 

"Amore."- I said softly, closing the door of our room, gulping when he just looked at me. 

That empty, yet emotional gaze: anger, worry, restlessness, frustration. 

That gaze, which takes us back to our very first month together. 

"Leo."- I almost whispered with tears brimming in my eyes, reaching for him, only for my heart to shatter. 

He didn't let me touch him. 

"Please, don't do this."- I pleaded vulnerably, not wanting to argue with him or him to be mad at me. 

"I do not want to say anything uncontrolled, that's why I am sleeping in guest bedroom."- said emptily Leonardo, his loving self nowhere near me. 

He left. 

He simply walked out of our bedroom, where just last night he made the sweetest love to me, kissing and caressing me like I am his greatest treasure, air, life, remedy and love.

Hot tears streamed down my face, my heart bled and ached. 

I messed up, I am the reason for this mess, but it doesn't give him a right to give me such cold shoulder. We have never argued, it is something we truly pride ourselves in and I don't want it to change. 

Even though I understand his position and I am sorry for making him feel like that, my reason is important - it could change the way of everything: our relationship, our children, our families, our routine, our plans.