I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 16

I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 16

“Whip wounds infected. Multiple areas of skin ulceration across the body.”

“And signs of sexual assault.”

“What has she been through…”

In front of Raffaele, the elderly doctor wiped his eyes, his gaze filled with heartache.

Raffaele’s heart tightened instantly.

The fake-death plan he had designed for Giovanna had been extremely safe.

So where had these injuries come from?

When he returned to her bedside, the fake gentleness on his face was gone.

Only deep coldness remained.

Giovanna thought he was still angry over the slap and felt anxious.

“Don Raffaele, why don’t I put some medicine on your face? If you’re really angry, you can hit

me back…”

Raffaele stared at her face, his voice slightly dry.

“No. You were right to slap me.”

Giovanna froze.

“I came too late and let you suffer so much. You should hit me.”

Whether at the explosion, three years ago, or now, it always seemed to be like this.

One step too late, and Vittorio took her away.

One step too late, and Vittorio made her suffer until life became unbearable.

One step too late, and Vittorio once again got the chance to leave wounds on her body.

It was all his fault.

Under his deep gaze, Giovanna gradually felt she could barely breathe.

After three years of knowing each other and being cared for by Raffaele in every way, she

was not stupid.

How could she not understand what he meant?

If this were before, a woman as clear in love and hate as Giovanna would have said outright

whether she liked him or not.

But after everything with Vittorio…

She was tired.

She no longer wanted to trust feelings like this.

So facing Raffaele, she could only say softly, “It’s not your fault. You’ve already helped me a

lot.”

“My enemies have only ever been two people. Vittorio Rizzuto and Serena Conti.”

Raffaele noticed her avoidance.

In this regard, he had always been considerate and never forced her.

He quickly changed the subject.

“Then do you want revenge?”

Giovanna froze.

“What?”

Raffaele repeated patiently, “Do you want revenge? Send Serena Conti to prison and make her pay for planning murder.”

“I can help you.”

That afternoon, a cold wind passed.

Naples was a thoroughly southern city, yet that day, it unexpectedly snowed.

Fine grains of snow fell from the sky, landed on the man’s coat, and melted into tiny traces.

Giovanna sat in the hospital room in a daze.

Raffaele’s words from that morning still echoed in her ears.

Vittorio bore undeniable blame for Ansela dying in that explosion.

Giovanna hated him enough to want to cut him into pieces.

But legally speaking, he had not committed a crime.

He had merely favored Serena’s child.

Serena was different.

Giovanna had heard it clearly that day.

The kidnapping had been planned by Serena.

Even Serena’s later capture by Vittorio’s enemies had been a bitter trick meant to get rid of

Giovanna.

Did Giovanna hate her?

Did Giovanna want Serena to pay?

Of course.

But…

While she was thinking, a faint sound came from outside the door.

Raffaele came in carrying an insulated lunch box and sat in front of her.

When he opened the lid, the aroma rushed out.

His cooking was excellent, but because he occupied such a high position, few people ever

got to taste food he made by hand.

Giovanna was an exception.

In the first few months after she arrived in Naples, she had not adjusted well.

At night, she always dreamed of her daughter and could barely eat.

Raffaele discovered it by chance.

After bringing her all kinds of food and realizing none of it worked, he simply invited her to his

home and cooked for her himself.

At first, Giovanna only tasted it out of politeness.

Then she was shocked into wide-eyed silence and almost lost herself in the taste.

Now, smelling that familiar aroma again after so many days, Giovanna’s eyes grew wet.

She said quietly, “Thank you.”

“Between us, do you still need to say thank you?”

Giovanna was silent for a moment, then looked straight into his eyes.

“I did save your life, but you already repaid that debt three years ago.”

“Everything has a price. If you keep helping me like this, what do you want me to pay?”

Raffaele seemed surprised by her sharpness.

Then he laughed softly.

“I don’t need you to pay anything…”

“I don’t believe that.”

Other than Ansela, no one stood by her side without conditions.

Giovanna had known that for a long time.

She tested him.

“Do you want to use me to strike Vittorio? Do you have your eye on Sicily and want to expand

your business there?”

Raffaele raised a brow and looked deeply at her.

“No. I only want you.”

“Marry me. I can give you everything you want.”

Like a demon tempting an innocent human, his voice was gentle and persuasive.

Giovanna frowned in complete confusion.

“I don’t feel that way about you. What use is marrying you?”

Raffaele adjusted his cuff and spoke slowly.

“Miss Ricci, have you perhaps heard of love after marriage?”