The Mafia And His Angel Part 3

by Lylah James

  My mouth fell open, and I quickly snapped it shut. I almost choked on my breath and had to swallow several times.

  She had said it so quick, and now she was avoiding my eyes.

  I smiled. She was so precious.

  I couldn’t help but smirk when I answered. “Thank you, Angel. Although I wouldn’t have minded if you called me sinfully, deliciously sexy. It would have done great wonders for my already big ego.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath, her eyes widening. “You remember that too?” I muttered.

  When she didn’t answer, I kissed her lips and pulled away. “I need to take care of some things. You can nap, and we will go to the piano room when I get back.”

  Ayla nodded mutely, and I went into the closet. After dressing, I walked out to see Ayla already in bed.

  Giving her a final glance, I walked out.

  I met Viktor in the gym. “Ayla spoke for the first time when she saw me hurt,” I started.

  Viktor stared at me in surprise and then smirked before busting into laughter. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled, landing a punch on the punching bag. My knuckles were bare, and I knew they would be bleeding soon.

  “Sorry, not interested. I love wet pussies better,” Viktor laughed, rolling his sleeves up.

  I landed more furious punches against the bag, my knuckles already raw and the skin bleeding.

  “So how badly do you want me to fuck you up?” he asked, moving closer.

  “I thought you said you were interested in pussies?”

  “Can I use your spiral knife?”

  “No,” I snapped.

  Viktor huffed. “Fine.”

  I didn’t have time to block his punch. It landed painfully in my ribcage, and I groaned. I bellowed, “You have a death wish.”

  “You asked for it.”

  “Shit. She only needs to see me hurt a little! Just to trigger her memories.”

  “Oops, okay. You should have said that before.” Viktor shrugged.

  I glared at him and kicked at his knee. He went down. “You crazy fucker!”

  It was my turn to shrug. “Lesson one. Always be on your guard.”

  We fought for hours. It turned out that it was more than just trying to make Ayla feel. We fought out our anger and self-loathing.

  Our anger toward the men that had hurt Ayla was taken out on each other. Phoenix and Nikolay soon joined us.

  “I can’t breathe. I think I broke something,” Viktor wheezed.

  “Pussy,” Phoenix breathed through his pain.

  “You went down before all of us,” Nikolay reminded Phoenix.

  I shook my head and limped out of the gym. I was time to get to my Angel.

  I opened the door and saw Ayla sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes snapped toward mine. I stayed hidden in the shadows.

  “I’ll wait for you in the piano room.”

  Without a second glance, I left the room and went next door. Settling in my chair, I waited for her.

  The door opened, and I heard a gasp. “Alessio,” she breathed.

  I closed my eyes at her voice. The sound of my name coming from her lips was heaven. For so long, I waited for this. For her to say my name.

  Opening my eyes again, I saw Ayla coming toward me. She knelt down between my legs. “What…ha…ppened?”

  Her voice was soft. But it was her eyes that got to me. She looked at me as if she was in pain.

  “You are hurt,” she whispered, looking down at my bloodied hands.

  She was feeling my pain.

  Ayla searched my face, and she winced when she saw the bruises there. “I was sparring. It’s nothing.”

  “But you are hurt,” Ayla said, taking my hands in hers. She bit on her lips nervously before looking around the room.

  I knew what she was looking for.

  “The first aid box is in our room. First drawer in the closet,” I muttered. Ayla stared at me for a second. Recognition flashed in her eyes before she nodded.

  She got up and left the room.

  I closed my eyes with a sigh. I was so fucking proud of her.

  When she came back, I opened my eyes and saw her kneeling between my legs again. Ayla went through the first aid box, and I helped her pick the antiseptic wipes and bandages.

  She stared at my hands for a second, her eyebrows furrowed. Her gaze went up to mine before moving to my hands again.

  And then Ayla slowly cleaned my knuckles. Gently and with care. She cleaned the blood off and blew softly over my ripped skin.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Was she feeling this connection too? Did this moment mean something to her?

  When she was done, she wrapped the bandages around my hands.

  “Thank you, Angel.”

  She nodded mutely, still staring at my bandaged hands, confused.

  “Does this seem familiar?” I finally asked.

  Ayla gave me a sharp nod. “You’ve done this before. In this same room. And just like today, you were hurting for me.”

  Her fingers caressed my bandaged knuckles. “You might have forgotten me, but I still remember you. I still remember us. You used to play the piano for me every night. You would read while sitting on my lap. I would play with your hair while working. Sometimes we would go to the creek. You would play in the water. I was always scared that you would fall and get hurt,” I explained, my voice rough with emotion.

  She moved closer to me and laid her head on my thigh.

  “Your favorite flower is the white peony. But you love the pink one too. You love reading. You don’t know how to dance. I don’t know either. But we danced together. I love your hair down, so you would always leave it down for me. Your favorite food is pasta. You like chocolate, especially white chocolate. You hate dark chocolate—it’s too bitter for you. You would get mad if I didn’t wake you up in the morning when I was leaving. I would get mad if you didn’t kiss me good morning.”

  Ayla closed her eyes as I caressed her cheek. “You said I was your peace. Your anchor and your savior. You are my Angel. We are one. I just need you to remember.”

  Ayla stayed silent, but I could see the calm look on her face. After a few minutes of silence, I spoke.

  “Play for me, Angel.”

  Ayla sat up and stared at me. Our eyes making contact. Green to blue.

  She let out a resigned sigh. I knew it was harder for her to remember. “Give it a try.”

  She got up and went to the piano. When Ayla settled on the bench, I stood up and went to her. Standing behind her, I placed my hand over her round stomach.

  When a hard kick pressed against my palm, I smiled. “The little fighter is feisty. He is cheering you on too.”

  Ayla placed her fingers on the keyboard, and I waited. She pressed a key. A note played. And then another key.

  Two notes and she stopped. Her shoulder dropped in defeat.

  When I couldn’t bear the dejected look on her face any longer, I leaned forward. “It’s okay, Angel. We have all the time. You can try when you are ready. I won’t push you.”

  Ayla stayed quiet, and I kissed her cheek before moving my lips to her ear.

  And then I whispered the one thing I had been desperate to say for a long time.

  She stiffened, and I saw her hands shaking.

  My lips turned up in a smile.

  When I saw a single tear trail down her cheek, I kissed it away and whispered the words again.

  “I love you, my Angel.”

  Chapter 11

  The words slipped past my lips effortlessly. I said them without any remorse but full with adoration for the woman in front of me.

  A year ago, I wouldn’t have believed those words were possible. But now, it felt like I would suffocate if I didn’t say them.

  My chest felt lighter, and I finally could breathe. Ever since Ayla was taken from me, I regretted never saying those words to her.

  Maybe it was because I never realize
d them before. I never thought of loving someone. Hell, I never thought I was capable of loving someone.

  The moment Ayla was snatched from me, I realized my mistake.

  She was everything and more. I would cherish her for the rest of our lives.

  My hand lingered on Ayla’s cheek. Another tear fell, and I trailed the drop with the tip of my finger. I saw her breathing change, and her cheeks flushed beautifully.

  Ayla closed her eyes tightly, and she took a deep breath. I waited for her reaction. I waited for her to say something—anything.

  When she didn’t respond, I kissed her cheek and leaned back, giving her space. I would wait for her, for however long needed.

  Ayla opened her eyes again and stared at the piano. With her fingers resting on the keyboard, she caressed the piano keys gently. She appeared lost in her thoughts. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

  A frustrated sound escaped past her lips, and I saw droplets of sweat start to form on her forehead and neck. When her hands tightened in fists, my heart sank.

  Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lifted her up. After taking her place on the bench, I pulled Ayla on my lap. She froze for a moment. I saw her swallow hard before slowly settling against me. She burrowed in my chest and sighed almost dreamily.

  “You want to remember, don’t you?” I asked, holding her hands in mine. Ayla nodded, hiding her face in my chest.

  I sighed, entwining our fingers together. “I want you to remember too.”

  She didn’t say anything. Silence fell upon us, and for the first time, I didn’t like the silence between us. I wanted her voice.

  Ayla took her hands out of mine and placed them on the piano again. I sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers made contact with the piano keys.

  My lungs felt like they were pressed together as I fought to breathe.

  Ayla pressed down on the keys, and a few notes filled the room. My heart stuttered when she closed her eyes, a pained look on her face.

  My Angel hiccupped back a sob and pushed her face in my chest again. Her voice was a mere whisper. “I…can’t…”

  Tilting her head up, I kissed her softly. “Let me in, Angel. Just give me a chance to prove to you that there is a beautiful world out there. Let me love you the way you deserve,” I begged against her full lips.

  I sat frozen when Ayla brought her hands up. Her hands hovered over my cheeks for a second. I caught the flash of uncertainty on her face before she finally palmed my cheeks. Her eyes were closed, but her fingers moved over my rough stubble.

  Ayla mindlessly caressed my cheek as she let out a pained sigh. “I don’t remember. I try, but I can’t.”

  She laid her head on my shoulder, her hand still touching me. “My head…hurts when I try.”

  Ayla brought her other hand to my chest. “And it hurts here too. I don’t want to remember…because it hurts.”

  I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my chest began to burn. I forced myself to relax even though I was feeling anything but calm.

  A mixture of grief, pain, regret, and love swamped me as I fought to catch my breath. So much grief. For everything we had lost. And love—for this woman.

  I held her hand firmly against my chest, right over my wildly beating heart. “I’m in pain too, Angel,” I said quietly. “Every time I see you in pain, it hurts.”

  Her hand paused over my cheek. “I…don’t want you to…hurt. I don’t like it.”

  I held her tighter, sadness so thick in my chest I could barely breathe. My heart ached at her words and the sorrow in her voice.

  This woman. I shook my head. She was hurt and in pain, yet she was worried for me.

  “Alessio,” she murmured. My lungs squeezed at the sound of my name.

  “Do you know how much I love hearing my name from your lips?” I said to her. I would never grow tired of hearing Ayla say my name.

  She hummed against my neck. “I remember your name. And…your eyes.”

  My lips tilted in a small smile. She actually remembered me. “Say my name again,” I begged softly.

  “Alessio,” she whispered. I felt her smile without even seeing it. My own smile widened, my chest finally feeling lighter. Placing a kiss on her forehead, I stood up with Ayla in my arms.

  She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on to me as I carried us back to our room. Just when I was about to place Ayla on the bed, I heard a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called out, already knowing who it was. Ayla settled on the bed and looked over my shoulder. A half-smile curved her lips, and her face softened.

  “Ah, there is my girl,” Lena said, stopping beside the bed. She pushed me away and sat down beside Ayla.

  Lena placed a small bowl of warm coconut oil on the nightstand. “Are you ready for your massage?” she asked with a wink.

  Ayla nodded enthusiastically. She looked up at me, a beautiful smile playing across her lips. Her cheeks were slightly flushed with giddy excitement. She looked…happy. A little shy, but at peace.

  “Here,” Lena said, adjusting the pillow and helping Ayla recline back. Ayla pulled her dress up until her rounded stomach was bare. Her hands went to the bump, and she caressed it softly.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. With her black hair spread across the pillow, her cheeks pink, and her green eyes twinkling, she looked like an Angel. She was glowing.

  “I loved having my belly rubbed when I was pregnant with Maddie,” Lena said, her voice snapping me out of my thoughts. She took some oil in her hand and brought it to Ayla’s stomach.

  Lena had been doing that for a few nights now. And it was something Ayla excitedly waited for. I could see it was how Lena and her bonded again.

  I watched Ayla stare at her stomach as Lena rubbed the warm coconut oil over the roundness. I saw the bump move under Lena’s touch.

  “Ah, she is dancing in there,” Lena laughed. “Such a happy baby.”

  Lena continued to gently massage Ayla’s stomach. “You have a beautiful pregnant belly. But you see how your skin is stretched tight?”

  Ayla nodded, waiting for Lena to continue. “The coconut oil will smooth out your tight belly. This way you won’t feel too uncomfortable. And it soothes itching skin too.”

  Ayla nodded again. She bit on her lips, suddenly looking nervous. Her eyes went up to meet mine before quickly moving back to Lena’s. “It feels good,” she whispered.

  Lena paused, her lips parting in surprise. It was the first time Ayla spoke to her. From where I was standing, I saw tears forming in her eyes, and she looked down at Ayla’s stomach.

  “I’m glad,” Lena replied, her voice a little hoarse. I took a few steps back, giving them privacy. This was their moment.

  Lena talked mindlessly. And Ayla, she listened attentively, taking every word in.

  After massaging the baby bump and Ayla’s back, Lena pulled the comforter over her.

  Ayla was almost asleep. Her eyes were drooping, her breathing evening out. A small contented smile was still on her lips.

  Lena came to stand in front of me. She patted my cheeks. “Keep doing what you’re doing. She…spoke to me after so long. And I know, if it wasn’t for you fighting to bring her back, she would have never taken that step. It’s all you.”

  My chest grew tight at her words. My eyes moved to Ayla’s sleeping form, and I could almost feel my heart stutter.

  “She’s been through hell. But you give her so much love, all the love you can give, so it’ll erase her pain and suffering. Don’t stop loving her,” Lena whispered before leaving.

  She closed the door, leaving me alone with her words ringing through my ears.

  She has been through hell.

  I pinched my eyes closed at the reminder.

  My beautiful Angel.

  I dug my hand into my hair. I was the cause of her pain and suffering. If I had protected her, this wouldn’t have happened. I fucking failed her.

  My eyes opened to see Ayla sound asleep. S
he was holding her bump, and my throat felt tight.

  Ayla should have been loved, cherished, and pampered all through her pregnancy. She should have been waited on hand and foot, treated like a queen.

  But instead, she had to live through hell. He broke her.

  I took a step toward the bed, fighting the tears. If only I could rewrite the past.

  Don’t stop loving her.

  Never. I could never stop loving her. It was impossible. She was under my skin, etched deep in my heart. Ayla had broken through my walls and was there to stay.

  My father was right. I was incomplete without her.

  Ayla was like a drug. The most addictive kind.

  Stopping in front of the bed, I caressed Ayla’s hair. She moaned sleepily and didn’t wake up. Smiling, I climbed on the bed and pulled her into my arms.

  Ayla settled in my embrace and wrapped her arm around my waist. She pushed her face in my chest and sighed sleepily.

  Ayla once said that she was fire. I had to agree. She was fire. We were both burning, but it was too late. There was no stopping our love—it was indestructible.

  Chapter 12

  Ayla

  Do you want to play?

  I ran my fingers on the keys but never pressed down. Opening my eyes again, I looked directly at Alessio. He was staring at me intently, waiting.

  With our gazes still connected, I let my fingers move. Softly. Gently. And a sweet melody came through. The music washed around us like a slow, gentle wave, and I smiled.

  You can keep playing the piano if you want.

  Play for me, Angel.

  I want to hear you play.

  I woke up with a start, my eyes snapping wide.

  Do you want to play?

  The words resonated in my ears.

  Play for me, Angel.

  I looked down at Alessio and saw him waking up too. He quickly sat up, staring at me in confusion.

  “Angel?”

  Play for me, Angel.

  I rubbed at my chest, trying to get rid of the tightness there.

  You can keep playing the piano if you want.

  My eyes moved to the door, my breathing coming out faster than before.

  “Ayla, what’s wrong?” Alessio asked.