Beneath the Roses: A Mafia’s Wife

Isabella's POV

I am sitting on the edge of the bed, my mind racing. Giovanni, my older brother, will be here soon. The DeLuca family might be powerful, but the Rossi family isn’t to be underestimated. Giovanni had always stayed out of my marriage issues, respecting my choices. But now, I need him more than ever.

The door creaks open, and Leonardo peeks in, his big blue eyes wide with curiosity. "Mama, are you okay?"

I force a smile, pushing down the lump in my throat. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Come here."

He runs to me, his small arms wrapping around my waist. I hold him tight, breathing in his innocent scent. He’s the only reason I stayed this long. The thought of losing him terrifies me more than anything else.

Marco appears in the doorway, his expression unreadable. “Isabella, we need to talk.”

I stiffen, but nod. “Leonardo, why don’t you go play in your room for a bit? Mama and Papa need to discuss something.”

Leonardo glances between us, sensing the tension, but obediently heads to his room. Once he’s gone, Marco steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“Why do you need to leave all of a sudden? Giovanni’s call came to me.” His voice is low.

I look up at him, my anger bubbling to the surface. “So what? I can’t stay here to face your plotting.”

“Huh!” He clenches, taking a step closer. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not a deaf as I told you before,” my voice shaking, “anyway, Sofia is here for you. So, I should leave sooner or later.”

His frustration is visible. “Listen, you can’t decide alone. I’m not your toy but husband—”

“And the husband chose his secretary over his wife.” I snap, unable to hold back any longer.

Marco grips my arms. “Behave yourself. You should know I am not an office clerk. So, there is no reason to stay at one place.”

“That’s it.” I laugh bitterly. “Nothing else to discuss.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but a knock on the door interrupts us. Giovanni steps in, his presence commanding and authoritative. He takes one look at the scene and narrows his eyes at Marco.

“What’s going on here?” Giovanni asks, his tone cold.

Marco straightens, his demeanor shifting to one of defiance. “This is a private matter, Giovanni.”

“Not anymore,” Giovanni replies, crossing his arms. “Until Isabella didn’t call me.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful for Giovanni’s support. Marco glares at him but doesn’t argue. Instead, he turns back to me, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and failure.

“We need to talk about Leonardo,” Marco roars, “you can’t take him away from me.”

I meet his gaze, my resolve hardening. “He’s my son, Marco. And I won’t let him be raised in a house filled with lies and betrayal.”

Giovanni steps forward, placing a protective hand on my shoulder. “Isabella will do what’s best for Leonardo. And if that means leaving, then that’s what she’ll do.”

Marco clenches his fists, his jaw tight. “You can’t just take him. He’s my son too.”

“He’s our son,” I correct, my voice steady. “And I’ll fight for him, Marco. I’ll fight for his happiness and his future.”

Marco looks like he wants to argue, but the sound of Leonardo’s laughter from the other room stops him. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Don’t take him away. For Leonardo’s sake.”

I feel a pang of sadness, but I shake my head. “It’s too late, Marco. You had your chance, and you threw it away.”

He looks at me in rage. But before he can say anything else, Giovanni steps in, his tone final. “Isabella is done talking, Marco. If you want to discuss custody, you’ll do it through our lawyers.”

With that, Giovanni turns and leads me out of the room. I follow him, my heart heavy but my resolve firm. This is the right decision. For me and for Leonardo.

We enter the living room, and Giovanni pulls me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, Bella. You’re doing the right thing.”

I nod, burying my face in his shoulder. “I know. But it’s still so hard.”

He pulls back, looking me in the eyes. “You’re strong. You’ll get through this. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

I smile weakly, grateful for his support. “Thank you, Bro. I am grateful.”

He gives me a reassuring squeeze before releasing me. “Now, let’s get you and Leonardo out of here.”

We gather Leonardo’s things and pack them into Giovanni’s car. As I buckle Leonardo into his seat, he looks up at me with wide, curious eyes. “Where are we going, Mama?”

I brush a strand of hair from his forehead, forcing a smile. “We’re going to stay with Uncle Giovanni for a little while, okay? It’ll be an adventure.”

He nods, accepting my explanation without question. As I close the door, I take one last look at the house that has been our home for the past five years. It feels strange to leave it behind, but I know it’s the right thing to do.

Giovanni drives us to his house, a large, comfortable place on the outskirts of the city. He has always been more like a father to me than our own ever was. When we arrive, he shows us to our rooms and makes sure we’re settled.

That night, as I lie in bed, I can’t help but think about the early days of my relationship with Marco.

Years ago, I wandered the streets, trying to escape the chaos at home. I stumbled upon Marco, surrounded by a group of thugs. Without thinking, I rushed in to help him.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" I shouted, pushing one of the thugs away.

Marco, surprised, joined the fight. We stood back to back, defending ourselves until the thugs retreated. Marco was injured, so I took him to the hospital.

In the sterile, white room, we truly saw each other for the first time.

"Why did you help me?" Marco asked, wincing as the nurse bandaged his wound.

"I couldn't just walk away," I replied. "You looked like you needed help."

He smiled, gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm Marco."

"Isabella," I said, shaking his hand.

We spent hours talking, sharing our stories. I told him about my troubled home, about the roses that symbolized empty apologies. He listened, really listened.

At eighteen, we promised to be together forever. But forever turned out to be shorter than I hoped.