𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 ✍︎

44| 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙳𝚊𝚢

Ayla/Dove's POV
Age: 10
Location: Ricci's Mansion, New York

It has been almost two weeks since my last nightmare.

Vincent blew up one of Dad's warehouses and attacked some of his men.

Any kind of Thanksgiving celebration my family has been planning is cancelled.

The triplets try to make jokes about the situation, to make everything feel better, but we're all on edge.

School is cancelled until it's considered safe again.

It feels like whole Italian Mafia is under house arrest. My family and I haven't left the walls of our mansion in weeks, too afraid to leave.

I know my brothers are going stir- crazy. Honestly, I am too. But not because I want to leave the house.

Knowing things are happening and being unable to help is driving me insane.

The constant flashbacks of my dreams aren't helping either.

The last dream was traumatising. I don't ever remember getting waterboarded, yet the dream seems so familiar. It feels real.

I spend my days wandering around the endlessly big mansion while my nights are filled with restlessness.

Sleep has never been a thing that comes easily to me, now more than ever.

The last time I slept was more than a day ago, and I'm really feeling the effects of it.

Christmas is fast approaching, but I know celebrations this year won't be as big or festive as usual.

I know my family is going to try to make it amazing, though. They want my first real Christmas to be memorable.

Celebrating the holiday isn't a big deal for me, but it is for my family, and I'll do anything to make them happy.

To prove my point, I am currently sitting through some kind of espionage movie in the movie room with my brothers.

It's very wordy and kind of boring, but I don't think I've seen my brothers as entertained as they are right now.

I shiver as a cold draft comes from somewhere in the room. I wrap my heated blanket around my shoulders.

Despite temperatures dropping to 27° Fahrenheit, there's no snow, much to the triplets' disappointment.

I've only seen snow once, and the memory behind that incident is not pleasant.

My mind seems to have blacked out most of it, but the image of red blood splattering the pristine white ground has never been forgotten.

I can't remember who's blood was spilled or if I was the one who was getting butchered, but I remember the blood against the snow.

My body involuntarily shivers at the memory.

Marcus notices my sudden movement and frowns. "Are you still cold?"

I nod, pulling at my blanket tighter in an attempt to soothe my nerves. "I don't know how you guys survived years of weather like this."

"You'll get used to it," Luca assures me.

Lorenzo slides into my seat and pulls me close to him. His added body warmth adds to the heat already provided by my blanket.

I snuggle close to his chest, which is covered by a yellow sweater his girlfriend knit him.

I have a hard time imagining Gwen knitting something. My brain keeps coming up with an image of her knitting with her knives instead of proper needles.