Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 70: Chapter 70 Who was following her?

Alessio saw her everywhere. When he was free, when he was alone, and sometimes even when he was busy. He would be in the middle of a conversation, and her face would flash in his mind. He would be reviewing contracts, and suddenly he would remember the way she had tilted her head when she was thinking.

It was driving him insane.

He did not understand what was happening to him. He had never felt this way before. He had never been distracted by a woman. He had never been consumed by thoughts of someone else. He had always been in control. His mind was his greatest weapon, sharp and focused and relentless.

But now, he could not control his own mind.

He would be reading a report, and suddenly he would imagine her soft pink lips. The way she had licked them after drinking juice. The way they had curved into a smile when he said her name. He would imagine them parting slightly, her breath warm against his skin.

He would be in a meeting, and suddenly he would imagine kissing her. Pressing her against the wall in the elevator. Tipping her chin up. Claiming her mouth with his. He would imagine her fingers in his hair, her body pressed against his, her breath hitching in her throat.

He would be driving, and suddenly he would imagine her in his car. Sitting beside him. Her hand on his arm. Her body close to his. He would imagine the scent of her perfume, the warmth of her skin, the sound of her laughter.

He hated it.

He hated himself for thinking these thoughts. He hated the way they made him feel. He hated the way his body reacted, the way his heart raced, the way his hands trembled.

So he did some research to understand what was happening to him. He read articles about intrusive thoughts, about imagery that appeared unbidden in the mind. It was because of stress, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was so worried about his missing sister that his mind was creating these thoughts as a way to cope. Maybe it was stress and trauma. Maybe it was his brain’s way of distracting him from the pain of not knowing where Elena was.

But that did not make it easier.

These thoughts were against his moral code and values. He believed in loyalty, in honor, in doing what was right. He would not pursue a married woman. He would not be that man. He would not become the kind of person who destroyed someone else’s marriage.

But when he imagined Daisy with Cedric...

Nausea rose in his throat. His stomach churned. The thought of another man’s hands on her, another man’s lips on her, another man’s body pressed against hers, made him feel sick.

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists.

He imagined Cedric’s hands on her waist, his lips on her neck, his body pressed against hers.

Alessio’s vision went red.

He grabbed his phone and threw it against the wall.

The screen shattered. The pieces scattered across the floor, catching the dim light like broken stars. The sound was loud, sharp, echoing through the silent room.

He stood up, his chest heaving, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. His hands were shaking. His heart was pounding. His whole body was trembling with a rage he could not control.

He stared at the broken phone on the floor.

He had lost control.

He never lost control.

He pressed his palms flat against his desk and leaned forward, his head hanging low. His knuckles were white, his jaw was tight. The wood was cool against his hands, grounding him.

He took a deep breath. He needed a therapist.

❀┈┈┈┈❀

Next Day

Daisy woke up happy.

The morning light streamed through her small window, warm and golden, painting stripes across her faded quilt. She stretched her arms above her head, a smile already forming on her lips before she even opened her eyes.

The mansion was empty. Jenna was still in Jade Bay, dealing with her husband and his old girlfriend. Cedric was still abroad with Jessica, playing house in some foreign city. The servants were going about their business, but they barely noticed her. She was free.

She threw off her blanket and bounced out of bed. She put on her favorite yellow sundress that made her feel like sunshine. She tied her caramel hair in a loose ponytail, letting a few strands fall around her face. She slipped on her worn sandals, grabbed her small bag, and walked out the front door without anyone stopping her.

The day was beautiful. The sky was blue, the breeze was warm, and the birds were singing. The flowers in the garden swayed gently, their petals catching the light. Daisy took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of jasmine and roses.

She walked toward the bus stop, her steps light and carefree.

But then she noticed a dark car.

It was parked across the street, its windows tinted so dark she could not see inside. It had been there when she left the mansion. She had not thought much of it at first. Cars parked on the street all the time. But now, as she walked toward the bus stop, she noticed the car was moving slowly and following her.

Daisy’s heart skipped a beat. She quickened her pace. The car matched her speed. She turned left. The car turned left. She turned right. The car turned right.

Her sixth sense screamed at her. Something was wrong. This was not a coincidence. This was not a random car. This was someone following her.

She broke into a jog, her sandals slapping against the pavement. She reached the bus stop just as a bus was pulling up. She climbed on quickly, not looking back, her heart pounding in her chest. She paid her fare and found a seat near the back, her eyes fixed on the window.

The dark car was still there. It was following the bus.

Daisy’s hands trembled. Who was following her? Why were they following her?