In Love With The Mafia's Wife

CHAPTER 7 – A short chit-chat with her

Gabriel’s POV

What the hell is she talking about? Did she just thank me for killing her husband? Is it because she was tortured? Is there something being kept in the dark that the outside world doesn’t know about or is she trying to fool me and take advantage of my kindness?

“Ow! You are hurting me!” Her high-pitched voice snapped me out of my train of thought. When I first hovered over her, I made sure that my body weight didn’t push down against her fragile wounded body, but when I fell into my deep thoughts, my body started crushing her without my knowledge.

“Please, you are su…ffocating me,” she cried out with difficulty and I quickly moved away from her.

“What did you say earlier? Did you thank me for killing your husband? What kind of a woman are you?” I scoffed as my face contorted into a disgusted look.

Anger filled her eyes, but they soon turned watery before she burst into tears, “Don’t judge a book by its cover. You know nothing about my life. Yes, I thanked you for killing that devil and monster, because now I am finally free. I cursed that bas*ard every day, I cursed that life I was living, and I prayed to God that no one on this earth would ever have such a life.”

Was she telling the truth? It was true in the sense that she was chained to the ground and her entire body was covered with wounds. Still, was Fedrick the reason for that? Did he do that to her with his own hands?

A long exhale escaped my mouth and shook my head. Then, I suddenly remembered that doctor advised me to make sure she has a liquid diet as soon as she regained her consciousness. Despite my stubbornness, I knew that I had to treat her well first so that when she felt comfortable she would spill out everything she knew to me. I pressed the buzzer on the intercom and a maid quickly entered the room.

“Bring a bowl of soup and some fresh-cut fruits immediately.” The maid nodded her head and left with haste.

Closing the door, I turned to see her wiping away her tears and trying to slowly get down from the bed. But, as soon as she placed her feet on the ground and tried to get up, something unexpected happened.

“Aaaah!” she screamed, realizing that her legs had failed her and that she was about to fall to the ground.

Then, I didn’t know how, but I managed to rush toward her and quickly catch her in my arms. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held on to her tightly. With her eyes closed, she gripped my t-shirt strongly.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I examined her body with my eyes. Her bruises and her wounds were still recovering. Her lips were still swollen because of a cut on her lower lip. She slowly nodded her head, but her face reflected nothing but pain.

“Your face tells a different story. Are you in pain?” I questioned her, the thought that I was holding her in my arms escaping me completely.

“I…I am in pain…aaaah…but I need to go to the bathroom,” she said with great difficulty.

Shaking my head, I replied, “It looks like you can’t walk.”

“I will try my best to walk. I have to,” she persisted, biting her lip. Her actions made my gaze move to her lips at once, and I realized how beautiful they were even though bruised.

The stubborn woman tried to push me away to walk by herself, but I hurriedly took her into my arms in a bridal style and walked to the bathroom.

“What are you doing? Put me down! I can walk,” she resisted with her widened eyes.

“Oh, really? I saw what you meant by walking, plus, this is not the first time you are in my arms.” I recalled the way I carried her to the helicopter and the days I spent warming her with my body.

“Were you the one who carried me out from the torturing cell?” she asked with a questioning look.

“Who else, your highness? Now, go ahead. I will wait outside. Let me know when you are finished.” I gently placed her down near the commode and walked outside.

Why am I doing this? I questioned my bizarre change in behavior as I leaned my head back against the wall. Is it because of the information I wanted or am I seeing something different about her compared to other women? I had to admit, the way she looked at me was unlike any other look I had seen. There was no lust in her eyes, nor did she care about me. I was only another man to her, nothing special or worth looking at for an extra second. Certainly, her gaze was different from the wh*res I had dealt with.

After a few seconds, someone knocked on the main door. Assuming it was the maid, I opened the door and true enough, she was there with a tray of food. She placed it on a nearby table and walked to the door.

“Is there anything you need, sir?” she asked, bowing her head.

“Yes. Ask the doctor to come here with a nurse,” I instructed and she bowed again before leaving the room. As soon as the maid left, I heard a knock on the bathroom door.

Ugh, this stubborn woman. I told her to call me, but she walked to the door. Shaking my head, I opened the door to see her leaning against the bathroom counter while waiting for me. I took her back into my arms and headed to the bed.

Placing her on the bed, I pulled her food tray table closer, “Your food has come. You should eat something, perhaps this soup first. In the meantime, I have asked a maid to call the doctor. He will be here shortly to check up on you.”

“Thank you for helping me,” she said kindly. Her lips pressed into a small smile, but I couldn’t differentiate if it was a gratitude smile or if she had just pressed her lips together.

She slowly pulled the soup bowl closer and ate two spoons. But, seconds later, she threw up everything she had eaten on me. Her eyes widened with shock as she looked up at me.

“What the hell!” I gritted my teeth and she jumped back in terror. She began shivering as her face turned pale.

“S…. sorry…I didn’t do it o…n purpose,” she stuttered. I shut my eyes and tried to control my anger with deep breaths.

“Why did you vomit?” I asked while removing my t-shirt, and I noticed her quickly looking away to the other side.

Clearing her throat, she whispered softly, “I… think i…it’s because I didn’t have anything to eat in days. I vomited because of my empty stomach. I…I’m s…sorry.”

Why did she look away? She was the first woman who turned her head away from my sexy, perfect, muscular body. Otherwise, women usually died to see me shirtless. Her single action challenged my personality.

“You are acting as if you’ve never seen a shirtless man before. I am not changing, you can drool over me,” I teased with a smirk.

“If you know how you would look like when you die and an autopsy is being done on you, you will never be so proud about the pounds of meat you have.” Her statement felt like a slap across my face, wounding my ego, my personality, and my body, the one I had built and maintained for years.

“I can’t eat anything. I think I am having low blood pressure and hypoglycemia,” she said, squeezing her forehead.

“What the fu*k is that? Hypo… what?” Her words sounded Greek to me.

“Gosh! It means that I am having low blood sugar. I need to have a glass of liquid glucose first. That’s why I am having this dizziness, blurry vision, and headaches. Can you—” That was all she said before she leaned against the bed.

I quickly sat on the bed and patted her cheeks, “Hey! Hey, are you okay? What do you need? Doc must be already on the way now.”

She woke up after three days and if she slipped into unconsciousness again, I didn’t know how many days I had to wait to talk to her. Therefore, I knew that I needed to keep her awake until the doctor arrived. Then, an idea came to mind.

“You were crying out for your mother a while ago, just when you were about to regain your consciousness. Have you not seen her in a long time? Didn’t Fedrick allow you to see her?” I asked, knowing well that asking about her mother would make her talk to me without passing out. As expected, her eyes shot open toward me.

“Don’t talk about that Lucifer ever again! You killed him but I don’t have anything to reward you for killing that monster. The darkest years of my life were those past four years I spent with him. If you know how I spent my life there, you will happily go to hell because hell is heaven compared to the life of torture I endured there.” She gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw, yet sometimes, her eyes softened and filled with tears. Her visible cheekbones and collarbones clearly proved that she had been starved for days regularly.

What the hell did she do to suffer like this? Why did Fedrick torture her like this? She might be tricking me, who knows? After all, women have cunning ways. Anyway, I should be careful.

“Mom was the most precious and the most beautiful thing I had in my life,” she said, raising her voice to catch my attention. She was lucky to have a mother, while I never got to experience having a mother at all.

“I did everything I could to spend a happy life with her, but fate was so fuc*ing cruel to me. Even just now, in my dream, she disappeared. I will do anything to see her again one last time. She was all I had,” the lady sobbed bitterly until it turned into a coughing fit. I quickly offered her a glass of water.

“What about your father?” Her face instantly changed and contorted into a disgusted look at my question. I narrowed my forehead with curiosity.

She tightened her fists, “He is the reason behind everything that happened. If the word bas*ard has a synonym, it would be my so-called father. He was my father only on paper and by name. I used to hate it when someone called me by his surname.”

“So, what—”

But, before I could ask yet another question, someone knocked on the door.