The Mafia’s Seductress

Isadora’s POV

Rafael kicked the double doors so hard it broke the mechanism that made it open by itself when you pushed the button. His eyes glazed over, sweaty and breathing heavy… technically I could say he was hyperventilating. I can’t seem to find the word that accurately describes how mad he is. He storms past us with Alfonzo right on his heels. Everyone else followed.

“Rafael don’t!” Alfonzo screamed. Completely ignored, Rafael walks out of the hospital and peels off in the SUV we came in.

“What happened!?” Emiliano shouted.

“Mom told him what Javier said to Isadora. He got mad, ripped the IV out of his arm and stormed out.” Alfonzo sighed.

“Damnit Gabriella!”

“He deserves to know and Javier deserves this beat down that’s coming to him! He had no right to say those thing to Isadora!” She shouts. Emiliano lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Gabriella, keep Mirella with you. She doesn’t need to see what’s about to happen. Boys, take the spare van and meet me at the house. Im taking Isadora with me.”

– At The House –

Pulling up to the house we could hear Rafael screaming. Running inside we see an already bruised and bleeding Javier. Although he was hurt, aparently it was not enough to stop arguing. Rafael’s shoulder was bleeding but not too bad.

“The fuck is wrong with you!? Telling my girl that she’s the reason I got shot!”

“She is the reason! Someone wants her and you were in the way! So they tried to take you out! Why can’t you see that!?” Javier screamed. Someone wants me? What the hell am I missing!?

“Shut the fuck up! You are never to speak to her again! If I see you anywhere near her, brother or not, I’ll kill you!”

“Enough!” Emiliano yelled, stomping his foot on the floor. When Rafael saw me his expression softened. He looked hurt. Not just physically, but inside he was hurting. I ran up and hugged him he paused for a moment before wrapping his arms around me. When he loosened his grip, I placed my hands on his chest.

“Please Rafael, calm down.” I pleaded. His eyes found their way to my arm. He gently grabbed my arm and examined it. I looked down and saw a small bruise that formed. You could see the nail indentations in the dark purple and blue hues.

“YOU FUCKING HURT HER!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. Pushing past me, he grabbed Javier and began wailing on him so hard all the white that was left on his bandages was now soaked a dark red color and dripping down his arm. With Javier almost unconscious, Rafael stopped and took a blade out of his pocket, holding it to Javier’s throat.

“No Rafael!” Gabriella screamed as she ran into the room. He stayed there for a moment, then got up in a huff and walked away. At this point I didnt care how he would react. I ran to him, throwing my arms around him. He was breathing heavy when I felt his breath hitch as if he was on the verge of crying.

“I’m so sorry baby.” He hugged me and burried his face in my neck.

“Shhhh…” I kissed his cheek and felt him immediately relax. “I’m taking you back to the hospital.” He nodded and took my hand. When I reached Emiliano I stopped. “We’ll be back later.” He nodded.

– At The Hospital –

He was silent the whole way there, but never let go of my hand. Sitting in the room waiting for the nurse, Rafael sighed and put his face in his hands. I walked up between his legs and put his head on my chest. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer.

“I know you love me.” I said and his head shot up. “I want you to know, I love you too.” Before he could say anything the nurse walked in holding a tray of shiny tools and more bandages.

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Hours later…. exhausted, sore and emotionally worn out, we make it back to the house just as the sun was rising. We pass Emiliano in the kitchen making coffee. Seeing us, he nods and goes back to what he was doing. I take Rafael to his room and he heads straight for the bed.

“Lay with me.” His voice raspy and low. I smile and take off my shoes before crawling into bed next to him. He throws his arm over me and yanks me close. His chest is warm, his breathing now slow and rhythmic against my back. “I don’t want to lose you.” He whispers.

“You won’t.” I assure him.

“This is not your fault.”

“Who shot you?”

“We don’t know. My dad is looking into it.” He sighs.

“Why would someone want to shoot you?”

“It wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last.” Unsatisfied that he keep dodging my question, I sat up and turned to face him.