The Mafia And His Angel: Part 1 (Tainted Hearts 1)

Shaking my head, I stood up and Ayla blinked in surprise. She cocked her head to the side in question but didn’t say anything.

“You look better,” I said.

She licked her dry lips but still looked slightly confused. She was still coming down from her panic attack, so she wouldn’t completely understand what was going on.

I sighed and took her hands in mine, pulling her upward. She stumbled forward and I pulled her up to my chest again before walking out of my bathroom. Ayla laid her head on my shoulder with a sigh.

Stopping in front of my bed, I placed her down and pulled the covers away. She moved under the black comforter and laid down. I tugged it around her body and her eyes started to close sleepily.

Standing up straight, I looked down at Ayla. She looked so innocent lying there. So fragile and vulnerable.

I couldn’t wrap my head around what just happened. Did she have a nightmare? Or was it a memory haunting her?

I didn’t know anything about Ayla. Her identity. Her truth. Her past. Nothing. And I was intrigued. It made me want to uncover her hidden truth.

She sighed sleepily, and when I looked down, she blinked up at me, a small sleepy smile playing across her lips.

I started to walk away but a sudden cry of panic stopped me dead in my tracks.

Quickly swiveling around with my heart in my throat, I saw her sitting up on my bed. Her eyes were wide with terror and indescribable panic.

“No. Please don’t leave me…alone,” she stuttered.

“Ayla,” I started to say, but she shook her head. Moving the comforter away with a rush, she stumbled out of my bed.

“Shit,” I muttered. Quickly moving toward her shaking body, I pulled her up in my arms and placed her on the bed again. She gripped my arm tightly and stared at me with dread.

“Please. Don’t leave me,” she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks.

When I wanted Ayla to beg me to touch her, this wasn’t how I envisioned it happening.

What a fucking mess.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I soothed, sitting down on the bed in front of her. Pushing the strands of her hair behind her ears, so that her face was fully visible to me, I cupped her cheeks reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”

She hiccupped a sob and her fingers tightened on my arm. “It’s okay,” I said again. Gently grabbing her shoulders, I pushed her down on the bed. After pulling the comforter over her, I patted her knee. “I’m right here.”

I kept my eyes on her as I stood up. She followed my movement with her unflinching but tearful eyes. When I climbed on the other side, Ayla turned and faced me.

We stared at each other, our gazes unmoving as we settled under the comforter.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but eventually her eyes started to droop sleepily, her long dark lashes fluttering against her pale skin. Tiredness took over her body and she went limp. An almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips as she fell asleep, her body cocooned warmly and safely under my comforter and my watchful gaze.

What happened tonight changed everything. It made me want to know more about her. I could make assumptions about what happened to her, but I wanted to hear it from her.

A few minutes later, I closed my eyes as the darkness enveloped me.

The last thing I saw was Ayla’s sleeping and peaceful face.

Chapter 23

Ayla

I felt disoriented and my head was pounding. I blinked my eyes open but then closed them again because of the bright sunlight.

Wait, what?

My eyes snapped open in alarm and I quickly sat up in bed. I wasn’t in my room. I looked down at the soft black comforter. Panic filled my chest; I looked around the strange room. It was familiar to me.

Turning my head to the left, I shrieked in surprise. Alessio was sitting beside me, his back propped against the headboard as he mutely stared at me panicking.

I was in his room.

The last thing I remembered was falling down on my bed tiredly as sleep took over my body and mind. But after that, everything was blank.

“How did I get here?” I asked, bringing the comforter up to my shoulder. Alessio raised an eyebrow at me in surprise.

“You don’t remember?” he asked, his voice gruff from sleep.

I shook my head. He stared at me for a few seconds, the air crackling with tension between us. There was an awkward pause before he continued.

“You came to me last night,” he said.

That didn’t make any sense.

“What do you…you mean?”

He sighed in annoyance. “You had a panic attack. Came to my room, knocked at my door, and begged me to make it go away. I did, and then you fell asleep on my bed,” Alessio explained. When he was done, he stared at me expectantly.