I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 23

I Faked My Death to Escape the Mafia Don After My Daughter Died Chapter 23

For the next few days, Giovanna stayed at Villa Rizzuto.

After she tore up Vittorio’s photo, Vittorio seemed deeply shaken and stopped entering the

room.

To help regulate Giovanna’s mental state, a maid came in every day to unlock her chains and

take her to the garden for walks.

The maid was a round-faced young Asian girl with watery eyes.

She always looked at Giovanna but did not quite dare speak first.

Those eyes reminded Giovanna of her daughter, and her tone softened.

“Ask whatever you want.”

The maid was a little embarrassed but still said, “Madam…”

“Don’t call me madam.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Ricci. I just wanted to ask why you don’t like Don Vittorio.”

Giovanna smiled faintly.

“You think he’s good?”

“Of course. Don Vittorio is handsome, and he loves you so deeply. But you don’t seem willing

to pay attention to him… Do you have someone else you like?”

Young girls always had rich imaginations, and she had quickly invented a forced-love drama

in her head.

Unfortunately, reality was never like what she imagined.

Giovanna said lightly, “You’ve seen the photo hanging in the living room, haven’t you? The

little girl in it is my daughter.”

“The little miss was very cute.”

“Yes. Such a cute girl died. She died in an explosion. They all say I was a genius bomb

disposal expert, but I couldn’t save my own daughter.”

The maid’s eyes widened.

“How could that be…”

“Because Vittorio Rizzuto pressed a gun to his head and forced me to save his mistress’s son.”

The maid’s face changed.

Giovanna continued calmly, “Then he forced me to issue a statement and make my daughter take the blame. He let strangers insult a dead child.”

“He dug up her grave for Serena and Dario. He pressed a silver cross to her chest and refused to let her rest in peace.”

The maid’s eyes instantly turned red.

“How could he do that…”

A cold, hoarse voice came from the doorway.

“I knew it. You still can’t forget Ansela.”

The maid turned, her hair almost standing on end.

Standing at the entrance was Vittorio.

Giovanna did not turn back.

She sneered.

“Of course I can’t forget her. Ansela’s death was partly my fault, and partly yours. Every day, I curse you to go down there and keep her company.”

Vittorio took a deep breath.

“You’re sick. I won’t argue with you. But my patience has limits. You’d better let go of the past

soon.”

As if afraid he would lose control if he stayed any longer, he turned and left in anger.

Pity appeared in the maid’s eyes.

After hesitating for a moment, she bent down beside Giovanna.

“Miss Ricci, I didn’t know you were so pitiful… If there’s anything I can help with, I’ll do my

best.”

A flicker passed through Giovanna’s eyes.

“There actually is.”

She leaned close to the maid’s ear and whispered something.

That afternoon, sunlight fell over the roses in the garden, glowing gold.

Vittorio stared blankly at the roses, his heart and eyes full of Giovanna.

He only wanted to go inside and hold her.

But he couldn’t.

Giovanna hated him.

Giovanna refused to touch him.

He could only suppress himself, wait, and hope time would erase every wound.

Hope they could return to the past.

It was fine.

That day would come eventually.

While he was lost in thought, the assistant’s panicked voice sounded.

“Sir, bad news. Someone brought the police here.”