Sold to the mafia boss

51



Logan’s P. O. V.

Astrid kept asking when I wanted us to raid Jamie’s home. I waved it off. After listening to Layla last night, it’s only fair to go for Italy first. I know it’s gonna be hard, getting accepted again while you’re being painted as the black sheep but I was suddenly filled with this voice in my head telling me I can handle it.

” Are you sure you wanna go alone? ” Dani asked from my door for the umpteenth time ” I could come with you”

Throwing my suit over my opened bag across the bed, I turned to him with a sigh ” I want you here with Layla, Dani. I’ve told you a thousand times ”

Dani looks like he’s about to say something but decided against it. He knows better than trying to change my mind. I’m going to see my family and I deserve to be there alone. And I knew Layla was found of Dani, he should keep her company well. I trust him with her.

I decided I’d just order for a suit when I get to my hotel In Italy, so I abandoned the suits I was packing and walked out, Dani right behind me.

Layla is seated on the couch as I stepped into the living room, her eyes fixed on the TV to even sense my presence. I’ve stayed in my office room for several hours that I didn’t see her at all until now that I was about leaving.

She turns her head around just in time to see me walking towards her. She twists and sits down on her bent thighs.

“You’re leaving now?” She asks, much to my appreciation.

“Yeah” my voice comes off stressed and unsure. I felt a pang of hurt as she looked down. I didn’t know if I was the one who was feeling the hurt of being away from her or she was.

I was just being delusional. Layla didn’t care about me that way. She’s probably glad that I’m leaving.

“Alright, Bye” she said, her lips going into a lip line smile. I nodded slightly and turned to the door. I walked out to my helicopter seated in the middle of my lawn.

It was a few minutes past 5 p. m. when I arrived my home town, Italy. The rental car picked me up from the airport and headed for my hotel that I’d booked in advance. As I walked in, I noticed the receptionist at the first desk who threw me flirtatious smiles as she offered to show me to my suite. I doubt that was part of her job but I don’t refuse anyway.

As soon as I got to my room, I took a cold shower as the weather seemed pretty warm around here before having a change of suits. Then I headed out.

There wasn’t another reason why I’m here today if it isn’t to visit my former home. So I told the driver to take me to the right address.

When the car pulled up in front of the tall mansion I once called home, I felt my skin crawl and the hair rise at the nape of my neck. A bigger part of me was asking me to leave, turn around and just go but Layla’s words kept telling to stay, assuring me that I can do this.

It’s pretty dark already, way past 8 p. m. as I stepped out of the car, the porch lights nearly blinds me.

The two doors automatically pushed open as I reached it, letting me into the wide first room. With my hands deep inside my pockets, I strode through the marble floor. Nothing seems to have changed over the course of long years. The same flowers still sat on its pot against the wall at the right side, the foyer was still as long as a living area and my father’s portrait that hung above the entrance still remained there.

As I stepped into the living room, I began to hear whispers coming from the room. Tender and boisterous chatters.

Everyone seated in the sitting room soon comes into view.

At the far end sat my glorious mother, a wine glass in her well manicured hand. She’s busy talking to another younger woman seated from across to her.

The room is empty safe for them.

My mother’s eyes caught me as I stepped in, stopping whatever she was saying to look at me, her smile widening and her sloe eyes deepening.

” Logan!” She calls, pointing her glass up at me in a toast. I tried to smile back but it seemed impossible to fake a smile.

As the younger woman seated in front of her turned around, the smile readily broke through my lips. The moment she stopped talking, I kept hearing the resonance of her voice. Because it was the only voice I would always recognize no matter how long. It was the voice of my only favourite person in the whole world. It was the voice of my cousin, Graziella.

Her eyes glistened as soon as she sees me, her lips twitching at the right angle. She has grown into a woman over that past few years.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Graziella and I has always been close during childhood, connecting in a way only us understood. We always had each other’s backs during the summers. We’d play hide and seek at our grandparents’ backyard. I was four years older than her but she was always the big sister figure and she loved playing the role to my brother and I.

If I was going to have to regret stepping foot into this house, Graziella was a whole reason for me not to.

Her lips are painted lush red, her long slim face powdered in the right places.

She rises to her feet, her once tiny figure now curvy at every right place.

” Logan Papi” she called mockingly, adding the nickname she gave me growing up. She knew I hated it.

My smile widened drastically and I replied ” Graziella Topo(mouse)”

And she burst out laughing, running over to hug me. She lifts her legs from the floor and I held her tight.

And the saying was true. Every Villain of a show has someone that they’ll always love and trust.

Mine was Graziella.


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