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My hands clenched into fists, my body trembling with a mix of anger and exasperation.
"I'm not you, and he's not Dad," I shot back, my tone defiant as I met her gaze head-on.
Her eyes flashed with a mix of concern and frustration, her words seething with an unspoken fear.
"Sei mia figlia e non ti permetterò di rovinarti la vita come ho fatto con la mia(You're my daughter, and I won't let you ruin your life as I did mine)," she declared, her voice thick with emotion.
I felt my resolve wavering, the weight of her worry and past experiences pressing down on me.
"I'm not going to ruin my life! I love him, and I'm not going to give up on him," I asserted, my voice laced with determination.
Tears welled up in her eyes, her body tensing with a mix of anguish and defiance.
"You're making a mistake, Griselda. I can't let you do this," she murmured, her voice tinged with a raw sense of helplessness.
I stood my ground. My resolve was unwavering despite my rising emotions.
"I'm not going to deprive my child of a father just because you're scared," I declared.
My mother's expression contorted with a mix of shock and defiance.
"You didn't need your father, and you turned out fine, didn't you?" she insisted.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. With a cold glare, I retorted, "I wasn't fine, Mom. I was bullied for not having a dad, and I felt envious every time I saw other kids playing with theirs. I didn't tell you," I confessed, the memories resurfacing with a painful clarity. "Don't mistake my silence for happiness or strength."
Her eyes widened in shock as my words hung heavy in the air.
"I had no idea, Griselda," she whispered, her voice laced with a raw sense of regret and sorrow. "I didn't mean to overlook your pain."
I shook my head, the burden of the past weighing heavily on my heart.
"I know you didn't, Mom. But I can't let my child go through the same thing," I murmured, my voice tinged with a sense of bittersweetness.
"I love him, Mom," I stated firmly for the nth time. "I can't just leave him."
My mother's brows furrowed with a mix of concern and apprehension.
"But what if he can't leave the mafia behind, Griselda? What then?" She kept repeating.
I bit my lip, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders.
"I don't know what the future holds," I confessed, my voice tinged with a sense of uncertainty. "But I’m not going to leave him."
Chapter 42
Emilio
Theanticipationhungthickin the air as we prepared for the ambush, the revving of our modified cars serving as a prelude to the imminent confrontation.
The vehicles, equipped with an array of specialized enhancements, stood as a testament to the meticulous planning and preparation that had gone into this critical moment.
As we crept closer to the location of Luigi's hideout, the darkness of the night enveloped us, providing the perfect cover for our stealthy approach. The engines of our cars purred with suppressed energy, the faint hums of their customized mechanisms barely audible amidst the quiet of the night.
With a subtle signal, our convoy sprang into action, the synchronized movements of the vehicles orchestrated with practiced precision. Our cars maneuvered with fluid grace, their advanced modifications allowing them to glide effortlessly through the winding streets and narrow alleyways, evading detection as we closed in on our target.
The element of surprise was our greatest asset, and we capitalized on it with unwavering determination. Our cars executed intricate maneuvers, seamlessly navigating through the labyrinthine network of alleys and side streets, their enhanced speed and agility propelling us closer to our intended destination.
The occasional flash of headlights and the faint screech of tires marked our steady advancement, each member of my meticulously trained crew operating in perfect synchrony to maintain our strategic advantage.
