The Mafia And His Angel: Part 3 (Tainted Hearts 3)

My chest grew tight, and my eyes pricked with unshed tears. For the first time in my life, I felt…weak.

Tears. Stupid fucking tears. I was crying.

“I will wait for your call,” Ivy mumbled before standing up. Lena quickly took her place and adjusted the towel around Ayla. She pulled the comforter over her and stepped away.

I saw Nina looking at Ayla, her face expressionless as always. After a few seconds, she left with Ivy without a word.

Sam came to my side. “Can I stitch you now?”

Without answering, I pushed my injured leg in his direction. My teeth ground together as he removed the bullet and stitched the wound. It was painful and burned like a goddamn bitch, but staring at Ayla’s sleeping face eased the pain.

I was lost in her, ignoring the needle as Sam finished up. After inspecting his work, he pressed a fresh bandage over the wound and stood up.

Sam didn’t say anything when he stepped out of the room. Lena fussed over Ayla, her forehead creased with worry lines.

“How is Maddie?” I asked mindlessly, pushing Ayla’s hair out of her face.

“She’s sleeping,” Lena replied quietly.

I nodded silently. So much happened, and I wondered how we were going to get back from it.

I started to pull the comforter over myself when I saw Viktor come into the room. “Painkiller,” he muttered, handing me the glass and pills he was carrying.

“What did Sam and Ivy say?”

I shrugged, quickly swallowing the pills. “As far as the bruises, she will heal. Ivy wants to do an ultrasound.”

“Alessio, the baby—”

“Not now.” I stopped him. “I don’t want to think about it now. My priority is Ayla.”

When I turned away from him, I heard him sigh. After waiting for a few seconds, he finally left the room and closed the door behind him.

Placing a kiss on Ayla’s forehead, I wrapped an arm around her chest, pulling her back to my front. I ignored the throbbing pain in my leg and closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Angel. For failing you. Disappointing you. If only I had listened. I don’t know how you will forgive me, but I promise that I will never fail you again,” I mumbled in her ear.

“You are my everything, Ayla. I just need you to wake up. We will figure everything else out after that. I promise I won’t leave your side,” I whispered.

She didn’t stir. Not even a twitch.

Her lack of movement felt like knives stabbing at my heart. I was hurting for her.

As the seconds, minutes, and hours ticked by, I slowly lost my resolve. My eyes drooped, and no matter how hard I tried to keep them open, it became almost impossible.

What the fuck.

When my vision blurred and I weakened with weariness, I swore.

My arms tightened around Ayla one more time. As my eyes closed and darkness clouded me, I finally understood.

The fucking asshole. He drugged me. Stupid sleeping pills.

Chapter 3

Sleepily, my eyes blinked open. My vision was blurred, and I tumbled over the edge of consciousness.

My eyes finally adjusted to the glaring sunlight a few seconds later. Ayla was still wrapped in my arms, her body anchored into mine.

My eyes widened when I found my hand over her round stomach. I stayed frozen for a second, too scared to move.

My throat felt suddenly dry, and I swallowed past the lump forming there. I pressed my hand more firmly into the roundness. The towel had fallen away, and I was now skin to skin with her belly.

Her stomach was stretched tight, but the skin was still surprisingly soft.

I stared at the contrast of my hand over her skin. My hand was big and rough, my palm taking about half of the fullness of her stomach. While even bruised, she radiated beauty.

I was still staring at Ayla’s abdomen, and instinctively, I started to rub small circles. When I realized what I was doing, I went to snatch my hand away but stopped dead.

My eyes widened, and my breath left my lungs in a loud whoosh.

What the hell.

There. It happened again.

The first time was so light that I barely felt it. But this time, it was harder.

My hand had moved when I felt it.

Was that…?

I leaned closer, my face only inches away from Ayla’s stomach. I waited and counted the seconds in my head.

When I started to give up, it happened again. And then again. Harder this time. I flinched and pulled away quickly.

“Mommy, can I feel the baby?”

She took my hand and placed it on her round belly. As soon as my palm made contact with her stomach, I felt a hard kick.

“She kicks hard,” I whispered.

“You used to kick harder.”

“I was feeling Princess moving.”

Swallowing hard against the unwelcomed memories, I placed my hand over Ayla’s pregnant belly again.

I felt it again. A kick. Or was it a punch?

It—the baby—was moving, and I was feeling him.