Their Little Princess

Chapter Twenty-Three

Alessandro's POV:

I walk into the house with the others who were at the warehouse. They split off, with Carlo heading into the kitchen and the other's to their separate rooms.

I'm on the phone with Riccardo Fonzi, one of the head men in the hands-on line of work. The ones who do a lot of the dirty work on the outside.

"I asked you for information and you gave me a grainy sliver of a recording. Come back when you have more information."

"Yes, sir," He says, I hang up the call.

Grabbing my laptop bag, I walk down the hallway and into my bedroom. I haven't had a drop of sleep since receiving the recording. I enter my room, prepared for another night of work when I spot a small figure curled at the top of my bed.

Madison.

She's asleep, but there's a tremble to her body. She begins trying to catch her breath and she's shaking. I slide my phone into my pocket and walk around to the top of the bed where she's at. I try to gently slide her into a laying position, she panics, her hands reaching out to ground themselves until she manages a tight enough grasp on the sleeve of my blazer.

I can tell she's in between unconsciousness and sleep, there's sweat trickling down her face.

Her breaths are getting more and more irregular, her eyes squeezing tighter. Until she jars awake, her grip on my sleeve tightening exponentially, as she looks around, fully alert.

Finally her eyes land on me, they're wide and it takes her a moment to take in her surrounding before her grip loosens slightly enough to pull her hand off of my blazer.

She looks pale and she stands up quickly, dropping to the floor in front of my small trash can before vomiting inside. She's clenches her fists, grounding them on either side of her. Her shoulders tremble.

She stays knelt beside the trash can, I pull the hair elastic off her wrist, tying her hair back and away from her face before walking into the bathroom to grab a cloth.

Maddie's POV:

A minute later, Alessandro comes back with a cool rag. He kneels beside me, still taller than me sadly. He uses the cloth to wipe my mouth and chin.

He places his hands under my arms and picks me up from the floor, standing me on my shaky feet, once he starts to let go, he realizes I'm not steady on my feet yet and he keeps his hands there to keep me standing until I regain myself.

"Can I use your bathroom?" I ask quietly.

His phone rings, he picks it up and glances at the screen, he puts the phone to his ear, handing me a black t-shirt from his drawer before stepping out into the hallway to speak on the phone. 

I grab the t-shirt and walk into his bathroom. The tile is black and shiny. Way shinier than the bathroom at home, despite how much I scrubbed that thing. Everything is pristine and glistening. I grab a washcloth and turn the shower on.

I stand underneath the scorching water, letting it pelt my skin, I scrub my body until I'm red. 

After a 30 minute shower, I slide my pajama shorts back on underneath Sandro's t-shirt that hangs to my knees and walk back into the room. He's still in the hallway talking lowly. I sit down on his bed, pulling my knees up to my chest and looking around.

The framed picture on the wall beside the bed catches my eye. The man is handsome with a sharp jaw, his sharp blue nearly black eyes give it away though. This is Lorenzo Rossi. My father.

Alessandro finally walks back into the room.

"Is that your father?" I ask curiously.

He doesn't look over at the framed photo, "Yes, it is," He responds, "He's your father too. I would appreciate if you referred to him as such."

"I would prefer not to," I say. I know I'm a great risk of angering him by refusing his wishes, "I don't see him as my father," I say softly, gluing my eyes to grey comforter, "He left me with Daniel and mom...I don't think I could ever forgive him for that."

He's silent for a while, and there's a hesitance to his action, but to my surprise he simply nods, "If that's how you feel."

He turns the chair at his desk towards the bed, sitting down on it and locking eyes with me. "I'd like to talk about the baby."

My heart drops. After that day at the doctors, I'd been hoping he forgot about the results he got from the ultrasound they'd conducted. It goes back to such a sensitive point in my life, one that I don't really want to relive. 

"Um...What do you want to know?" I ask softly.

"It was Daniel's...Yes?" He says, leaving the end open for confirmation.

"Yes," I say.

"What do you want me to know?" He says.

I don't answer at first, because I'm not sure I want him to know an of it. But then I remember how freeing it felt to tell them what happened when I lived with Daniel and mom. It was terrifying, but by the end of it, I was only relieved that the secret was finally out, though it's still scary to put so much trust in someone.

"Well, it was Daniel's, but you know that already," I say. I hesitate and inhale deeply to try to even my trembling slightly, "I don't remember why he...Um..." I take another composing breath, continuing, "It was after a couple weeks when I'd been doing a bit healthier. I was a bit active because of PE, and because of school lunch and my friends had been forcing me to eat, I'd gotten my period back," I release a shaky breath, "A few weeks after Daniel had um..." Alessandro nods, gesturing for me to move on, "I began to feel terribly. I assumed it was because I'd stopped eating as much after he did it. I felt depressed, my period stopped again, and I chalked it up to falling back into feeling horribly. Something in my head told me I should take a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I panicked and I..." My eyes well up with tears, my shoulders shake slightly from my uneven breaths as I relive that horrible moment, "I was so shaken up, I dropped a casserole of food on the floor at dinner time," I try so hard to keep my composure, "I lost the baby that night."

Finally the tears fall, I can't stop crying, "Every night, it tears me apart inside, every night, I can't shake the thought that it's my fault."

"It's not your fault," He says.

Somehow, that's exactly what I need to hear.

I just continue to sob, squeezing my eyes shut as my body racks with tears and he repeats, "None of it is your fault."