The Mafia And His Angel, Part 3 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

It was already the next day. Lena came with food, but I didn’t eat.

I stayed by Ayla’s side, holding her to me, caressing her and hoping she would wake up soon.

My men came and went. Viktor tried to get me to shower, but I refused. Lena said she would take care of Ayla while I rested, but I pushed everyone away.

I talked until my throat was completely dry and hurting. I thought that maybe she would hear my voice and wake up.

Maybe…maybe…so many maybes and I was still hoping.

Even when everything looked so hopeless, I still hoped.

Even when it felt as if I was breaking and being slowly cut from the inside, I still hoped.

Because as long as I had Ayla in my arms, I could hope.

I was her savior once. I would be her savior again.

My chest burned, and I rubbed a hand over my heart in frustration. Feeling, emotions, the heart—they were such a weakness.

I chuckled dryly and leaned my head against the headboard. It was too late now. There was no going back.

I now understood what Lyov and Isaak meant.

Mindlessly, I rubbed a hand over Ayla’s arm. Looking down at her sleeping form, I saw her slowly stirring. Her forehead creased, and her lips twitched.

I sat forward, my heart beating wildly. My hands started to shake, and sweat broke out on my forehead.

“Angel,” I whispered as she roused from her long hours of sleep.

She blinked her eyes open. Sleepily at first, and then finally she was fully awake.

We stared at each other. And just like the very first time my eyes had met hers, my heart stuttered and my stomach tightened in knots.

I could have flipped in joy and screamed from the top of my lungs.

But I only smiled.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “My Ayla. My beautiful Angel.” I peppered her face with kisses.

When Ayla didn’t move, my eyebrows furrowed tensely, and I pulled back.

I quickly lost my smile.

Realization finally dawned that she still hadn’t responded to me. “Ayla?” I said, touching her cheek and running a finger along her dried lips.

There was no recognition in her green eyes.

I suddenly felt sick.

She still hadn’t uttered a word. No, she just stared.

I knew she wasn’t seeing me.

She just stared into space without saying anything. I wasn’t even sure if she understood what was happening.

I spent a few minutes trying to bring her back. But it was no use.

“Ayla,” I whispered. “It’s me. Alessio.”

Nothing.

And that was the moment my heart shattered.

She only stared blankly at me. Her face was completely devoid of emotion, her eyes lacking the light that had always been there. They were empty.

I was wrong.

I finally had Ayla in my arms; she was safe. She was with me—but she wasn’t here.

My Angel was gone.

In her place was an empty shell.