My Childhood Bully is a Mafia Boss-Chapter 118

Ellie

I snuggled closer to Giovanni, his steady heartbeat calming me in the quiet night. His arms were my safe haven, strong yet gentle. His warmth eased away all of my fear and tension, and I couldn’t resist falling asleep in his embrace, feeling completely secure.

I slept through the night and only woke up when the sunlight hit my eyes through the curtains.

My eyes snapped open to find his side of the bed empty, the impression of his body still haunting the mattress.

"Giovanni?" I whispered. No answer came.

I pushed myself up. He was gone.

I sighed. A part of me wanted to wake up next to him.

A blush crept up my cheeks as I remembered last night. He had made love to me without even penetrating me. I didn’t know it was even possible, but with Giovanni, I guess anything is possible.

"Dammit," I muttered, the word a sharp exhale of frustration. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor a jarring contrast against my skin.

And then, cutting through the silence, a melody seeped into the room. Soft, more felt than heard, it was a song threaded with a tenderness that seemed out of place in this room.

"Where is that coming from?" My voice was barely a whisper, my heartbeat loud in my ears. The singing continued, so I decided to check it out. It was coming from Elora’s room.

I moved toward the door, slowly and carefully. The melody grew stronger, the voice behind it rich and resonant with a depth that warmed my body.

Without a sound, I padded across the room. My hand reached for the door, fingertips brushing the wood before grasping the handle.

I nudged the door open.

There he was, his back to me, standing in the middle of the room with Elora nestled against his chest, her tiny fist curled around his finger. The melody he hummed was low, a series of soothing notes that filled the space between us.

"Shh," Giovanni whispered to her, a soft command that stilled the room. His voice, usually so commanding, now laced with tenderness, wrapped around each note, cradling it as gently as he held our daughter. Elora’s eyelids fluttered, fighting sleep, then succumbing to the lullaby, to the comfort of his arms.

They looked too much like a father and daughter, I thought to myself.

"Sleep, little one," Giovanni murmured, his words barely audible. I watched, rooted to the spot, as he swayed gently.

"She might be hungry," My voice sounded too loud, breaking the spell, slicing into the quiet.

Giovanni turned, surprise etching his features. "Ellie," he started, "you’re awake."

"Yes," I whispered, ignoring the pain in my chest. "Were you singing just now?"

I took an involuntary step closer, drawn by the tenderness of the scene unfolding before me.

"Never took you for the lullaby type," I managed.

He shifted, the motion gentle to keep from waking Elora. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ellie."

"What else don’t I know about you?" I asked.

Giovanni grinned wickedly. "You will find out, slowly."

I pouted. "Why slowly? Why can’t I find out now?"

"What’s the fun in that? If I tell you all of my secrets, I might have to..."

"Kill me?" I finish for him.

Giovanni’s laughed out loud, making Elora stir in his arms. "No, Ellie," his voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. "If I tell you all my secrets at once, you might just run away."

I lifted my chin defiantly, refusing to let his words intimidate me. "I might still run away."

His stare bore into mine, searching for something I couldn’t quite name. "Why would you want to do that? Didn’t I satisfy you last night?"

I blushed and looked down. "Last night was wonderful," I whispered.

Giovanni chuckled again, the sound rich and velvety in the quiet room. "Then I will trust you stay with me, yeah?"

I took a deep breath and nodded. I looked up to meet his eyes. "Where did you learn to sing?"

Giovanni smiled brightly at that. "My Nonna taught me. She used to sing to me when I had nightmares or couldn’t sleep. Sometimes, she would have me sing with her."

His voice softened as he spoke of his grandmother.

"You have a beautiful voice," I finally said, the words coming out more sincere than I had intended.

Giovanni met my gaze then, the vulnerability still lingering in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, almost shyly. "I don’t often share that part of me with others."

I felt a sudden rush of understanding for this man who had been so guarded and distant. His music was a bridge between the walls he had built around himself and the outside world, a glimpse into the depths of his soul that he rarely allowed anyone to see.

"I’m glad I got to hear it," I admitted.

Giovanni’s lips curved into a small smile. "And what about you? Any special talent, mia cara?"

I shook my head.

"No? Nothing at all?" he asked.

I hesitated. "Well...I do like to paint a little."

Giovanni’s dark eyes twinkled with interest. "Paint, you say? What do you paint?"

Feeling a bit self-conscious under his intense gaze, I shrugged and avoided eye contact. "Just... things. I don’t really get to do it much."

A slow smile spread across his lips as he studied me. "Hmm," he hummed, his voice low and velvety. "I’d love to see your paintings sometime."

I shot him a warning look, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed. "What? No way. I don’t like showing anyone my work. It’s not good enough," I said, the memories of past ridicule flooding my mind.

A harsh voice from my past cut through my thoughts, breaking the moment. "Stop wasting time on stupid shit and get the dinner ready." My father’s words barked out at me, causing me to shiver involuntarily.

Giovanni narrowed his eyes. "What’s wrong?"

"N...nothing. I will take Elora. It’s time for her breakfast," I said, holding my arms out.

Giovanni handed Elora to me, his gaze lingering on my face, searching for answers to questions he didn’t voice. As I cradled the sleeping baby, a wave of protectiveness washed over me, a fierce determination to shield her from any harm.

I made my way back to the rocking chair in the room and settled down.

I cradled Elora in my arms, relishing the warmth and softness of her body. She stirred slightly, letting out a tiny whimper. With a gentle touch, I held her closer to me, feeling her breath against my chest. Shifting my position, I guided her to my breast, where she latched on effortlessly. The room was filled with the soothing sound of her suckling.

Glancing over at Giovanni, I saw the adoring look in his eyes as he watched us. "Are you just going to stand there and stare? You’re making me self-conscious," I joked.

"It’s a beautiful sight, a mother feeding her child. There’s nothing more pure and natural," he said sincerely.

"Well, maybe you should find yourself a wife and experience this joy some more," I teased playfully. But deep down, I couldn’t fathom the thought of Giovanni with anyone else. In fact, I might have to keep him all to myself and never let go.

Giovanni’s expression turned serious. "Are you trying to propose, Bella?"

I giggled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Propose? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Giovanni."

He arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Why not? I could be the most devoted husband, you know."

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. "Devoted husband, huh? That remains to be seen," I teased.

Giovanni stepped closer, his gaze intense. "I will show you. You can count on that."