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

Lyov shook his head. “Not at all.”

Alessio huffed. “No need to act all tough, old man.”

Those were the first words he spoke since we came into the room. His voice sounded gruff, and I looked up to see him glaring at Lyov.

In fact, they were both glaring at each other.

A tense moment passed between both men before they lost their glare. I sighed when they both stayed silent. We had a long way to go.

Alessio walked around the bed, coming to stand beside me. “Ayla, let’s go. You need to rest. I also need to…” Alessio trailed off, his expression turning furious.

I understood what he meant.

Alberto was captured, and Alessio was itching to have his revenge.

I saw his hands tightening into fists. Taking them in my hands, I placed a kiss on his knuckles. “You go. I will be here. When I get tired, I will go up and sleep.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but I continued. “I’ll be fine, Alessio. Really. Please go. Do what you have to do.”

This was me letting him know that I was okay with anything he had planned for Alberto. I refused to think about the Devil, because that brought up all the memories I wanted to bury. My eyes met Alessio’s. Blue to green. I smiled, taking strength from his furious stare.

After a long moment of silence between us, he wavered. Bending down, he kissed my lips. “I will come for you,” Alessio declared before pulling away.

I smiled, knowing he would keep his word. He brought his hand up and brushed his thumb over my cheek. His touch was soft; his stare held the same gentleness.

Alessio pulled himself away. I stared at his retreating back when he suddenly paused.

I felt my eyebrows furrow when confusion bloomed inside of me. His shoulders tensed before he spoke. The words were softly spoken, but they were just as shocking to me as they were to Lyov.

“Thank you for saving us.”

With that, Alessio walked away.

I couldn’t help but smile. My brooding man. He was so stubborn.

I looked back at Lyov to see him staring at the closed door. “Am I dreaming?”

This time, I laughed. “No. You are not.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh. “I never thought I would hear my son say that.”

My throat closed up, and I looked down at my lap. It was such a beautiful moment. I wanted to capture it and hold it in my heart forever. I still remembered when father and son once hated each other.

“You should rest,” I whispered, adjusting his bedsheet.

His eyes were already closed. A few minutes later, his breathing evened out. I knew he was asleep. It wasn’t long before my eyes started to get heavy. The last thing I remembered was staring at Lyov’s sleeping form, thinking how much father and son looked alike.

I woke with a jolt when I felt someone wrap their arms under my knees. My eyes widened when I was swept up in Alessio’s arms. He cradled me to his chest, and I instinctively laid my head on his shoulder.

I hummed sleepily and closed my eyes again. “I told you to go to bed, Angel,” he admonished. “You’ve been sitting in this chair for hours. You never listen. It’s not good for you or the baby.”

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, holding on to his neck.

“I’m taking her upstairs,” I heard Alessio say. Opening my eyes, I saw Lyov was awake. He nodded at Alessio and sent me a small smile.

Alessio didn’t wait for me to say good-bye; he was already carrying me out of the room. “You are so stubborn. How many times do I have to tell you? You need to take better care of yourself. Did you even eat? Fuck, Ayla. Please tell me you ate something.”

I winced at the reminder. He was going to be angry. “Ayla,” he growled in warning. “Did you eat?”

I pressed my lips together, refusing to answer. He huffed in frustration but stayed silent. I peeked up at his face and saw his lips were thinned in an angry straight line.

I placed a kiss on the side of his neck. “Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not.”

I closed my eyes. He definitely was.

When he reached our bedroom, he didn’t turn on the lights. Alessio placed me on the bed and pulled the comforter over me. He climbed in bed and pulled me into his embrace.

With my back to his front, he held me. His hand laid on my stomach, and I laid mine over his.

There was one question burning in my head.

He was gone for hours.

“Is he dead?”

The question was whispered in the dark, but my heart hammered painfully in my chest.

“No,” he replied.

My breath left me with a loud whoosh. My hand tightened around his, my chest feeling tighter.

“He is not going to have an easy death, Angel.”