I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 02

I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 02

When Vittorio returned again, it was already late at night.

Serena leaned in his arms and asked pitifully, “What if you bring me back and Signora Padrona finds out? She’ll kill me.”

Vittorio kissed her forehead with tenderness.

“I messaged her and said I had business to handle at the council hall. She must be asleep by now.”

“Even if she finds out, it’ll be fine. I’ll protect you and Dario.”

There was no sweetness on Serena’s face.

Instead, a flash of panic appeared.

Vittorio sensed something and abruptly lifted his head.

The crystal chandelier swayed overhead.

Giovanna stood on the staircase, her gaze cold.

“Where are my cannoli?”

Vittorio went stiff.

Giovanna walked down the stairs, step by step, as if she had just understood everything.

“Oh. You didn’t go buy cannoli. You went to pick up your first love and your son.”

Panic flickered in Vittorio’s eyes.

“Giovanna, let me explain. Serena was released from prison today. She had nowhere to go. I had no choice but to bring her back.”

“She’s already been punished by the law, and she’s Dario’s mother. I couldn’t watch her end up on the street.”

Giovanna acted as if she hadn’t heard him.

She walked around him, raised her hand, and slapped Serena hard across the face.

Smack.

“That one was for my daughter.”

Vittorio’s pupils shrank.

“Giovanna!”

Giovanna ignored him and slapped Serena again.

“And that one was for me.”

Serena fell hard to the floor, her cheek swelling red.

Her voice broke into pieces.

“Signora Padrona, I know accidentally leaking your daughter’s information was my fault, but I already paid the price. Is it a crime to want my own son to live?”

“I’m begging you. Give me and Dario a way to survive.”

Giovanna sneered and raised her hand again, but her wrist was seized tightly.

“Enough. Serena was also a victim back then. Why do you have to be so petty?” Vittorio snapped.

He had probably forgotten how he had cried when he first found Giovanna, saying he was wrong, saying he should never have clung to his childhood first love, saying he should never have caused Ansela’s death for his son.

Thinking of Ansela, tears shimmered in Giovanna’s eyes.

“Get out of my way.”

Seeing that she still wanted to strike, Vittorio panicked and shoved her away in desperation.

Giovanna was caught off guard.

The back of her head hit the corner of a cabinet, and warm liquid dripped down through her hair.

Vittorio didn’t notice at all.

He hurriedly helped Serena up.

“Are you hurt?”

Serena pushed him away, looking heartbroken.

“I knew it. Signora Padrona never planned to let me go. Then I’ll pay her daughter back with my life.”

As she spoke, she tried to slam herself into a pillar, but Vittorio grabbed her.

He turned to Giovanna, his eyes filled with pain and disappointment.

“Ansela is dead. She’s dead. Are you going to force Serena to die for a dead person?”

Giovanna suddenly found it laughable.

She remembered many years ago, when she had rescued Vittorio from an explosion.

He had just inherited the title of Don and had been leading Cosa Nostra through a bloody battle in Sicily.

The usually ruthless, decisive Don Vittorio Rizzuto had looked unusually battered then, his cold face covered in ash.

His eyes had landed on her face and lit faintly.

Half a year later, he proposed.

Giovanna had felt sweet inside, but she had deliberately asked, “Are you sure you really love me? This isn’t just a trauma bond?”

“Of course not.” His eyes had been unbelievably gentle. “I love you because you have eyes that move me.”

“Marry me. Give me a daughter. She’ll be as beautiful, smart, and brave as you. I’ll give her the best of everything.”

Giovanna said yes.

Only much later did she learn that the eyes Vittorio praised that day were similar to Serena’s.

And now, in front of Serena, even the daughter he had once spoiled so dearly had become “a dead person.”

Giovanna met Vittorio’s eyes, her own stinging.

Her voice was hoarse.

“You said Ansela is dead, and that’s that. Then what about me?”

“If I died, you wouldn’t care either, would you?”