COLD TRAP

Chapter 18 

MIRABELLA 

Twenty four hours. 

Forty eight hours. 

Seventy two hours. 

I should be named as an accurate time keeper by no 

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Fuck! 

I heave out a sigh of distress as I pace back and forth in my room. 

Nerve racking. 

That is the only description I have for how the last few days has been. Seventy two hours since Matteo walked out the front door and he’s not walked back in. 

There’s no explanation to how I’m feeling but I’m feeling it. Every form of discomfort and worry, like a lump caught up in my throat, like my heart is unable to beat at its normal rhythm. Like a strong conviction that something has gone terribly wrong. 

Thinking about it, what business meeting takes this long to conclude? 

It’s stupid. I’m stupid. But somehow, I’m worried sick for my husband and I’ve cursed myself out more times than I can count for it but my worries are not just going away.” 

My feet slap against the floor as I make my way out to my balcony. I pull the double door wide open and take a long calming breath as absorb nature’s beauty but it doesn’t take a second before the calm swiftly drifts into a storm. 

i 

There’s a few loud bangs like someone setting off firecrackers, but it doesn’t seem right. It feels as though I just heard gunshots. But who could be firing shots at this time of the night knowing that Julia could have another panic attack? 

My question is answered when there’s loud chatter from a distance; might be described as screaming amongst many different people. Paranoia grips me when a few cars speed across the estate until they’re outside the gates. Other guards taking their stance with their guns in hand ready for defense, practically putting the estate on an emergency lockdown. 

What the fuck is going on? 

I gasp loudly when I hear one of them yell, “il nostro don è stato attaccato“. 

Gesù. 

Matteo? 

Before I can get any words out of my mouth, my door is pushed open and my personal guard runs in frantically. “We need to get you to safety ma’am.” He sternly affirms and I protest. 

“Where’s Matteo? Is he close? Is he hurt?” I startle myself when I start rambling on and on, literally screaming my concern for a man who 

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wouldn’t bat an eye if I was dying in front of him. 

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The guard looks at me in disbelief and blinks a few times before heaving out a sigh. “I don’t have answers to your questions for now but I’m acting upon direct orders from the boss. Your safety comes first and you need to comply or I’d have to force you to.” He declares and I scowl 

at him 

One thing doesn’t escape my notice. 

My safety comes first? Direct orders from the boss? 

My lips tilt up the tiniest bit in realization that Matteo might just care about me after all. 

As strong headed as I am, I stand my ground and refuse to move a foot until I’m sure Matteo’s safe. The guard bangs on my door frustratedly and two other guards run in immediately looping their arms around my elbows and dragging me away like a prisoner. 

I scream and curse all I want but 

at it’s all futile then I decide to quit struggling and save myself some strength. 

We successfully go down the second floor and arrive the first and that’s when my ears pick up on painful grunt sounds coming from the ground floor. 

I hear him loud and clear and I freeze for a minute. “Where the fuck is my wifel Matteo’s voice ricochets in pain and I pick up my pace. He’s asking for me but his voice sounds strained and the fact has me worried. 

“She’s safe, man. You should worry about yourself,” I hear another voice speak and I know it’s one of the boys that’d comfortably speak to him so casually. 

“I didn’t ask if she was safe! I want to see her!” I hear him groan in pain and one of the boys continues screaming at him to shut his mouth up and save up some energy- 

My heart thumbs against my ribcage as I run down the stairs. Jump down actually. “Matteo?” I call out as loud as I can but I don’t get any answer, just a weak hum that has me gripped in fear of what I might find when I reach the bottom of the stairs. 

I’m already as sweaty as can be before I reach the living area where the real commotion is happening. 

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I freeze in my tracks when I find Matteo being conveyed on a stretcher. He’s grunting and unable to stay calm while his hands are pressing against his abdomen. They run past me as fast as a lightning bolt and head into the dark hallway and I hurriedly follow behind. 

“W–what happened?” I stutter out but no one seems to pay me any attention. A tear slides down my cheek and I swallow hard on nothing in 

dried up throat. an attempt to wet my 

Alessio turns around, immediately passing an order to the guards. “Don’t fucking let her into the medical room or you all are fucked!” He roars and looks me up and down in utter resentment, “lock her up if you have to.” He finishes his statement and turns back around. 

What the fuck did I do to this fucker to deserve his treatment of me. 

A futile struggle passes between I and the guards for the longest minutes of my life. I cry and beg but they won’t budge but I get lucky when Matteo’s mother walks into the hallway. She observes the commotion with narrowed eyes and heaves out a sigh, “what the fuck is going on?” Her voice is monotone and it startles me that a sweet woman like her could have such a frightening demeanor. 

“The boss’s second in command passed an instruction not to let her in- before the guard is finished with his answer, Maria smacks him across the face so hard that he stumbles. 

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“Listen and listen good, this is Matteo’s wifel The Don’s wife! You have absolutely no right to touch or restrict her from freely accessing any part of this house, Do I make myself clear?” Her voice hoarse and the guards nod. 

“If the order doesn’t come from Matteo himself then it means nothing when it’s about his wife.” She states finally and grips my wrist, gently pulling me behind her until we’re in front of the said medical room. 

I peek my head through and wow. If I haven’t lived in this house long enough, I’d think this to be an actual hospital ward, it makes sense that Matteo’s father is a doctor considering how this medical room is packed with all the equipment one might require. 

Maria nudges me to go in and I do. I stand by a corner and observe the chaos. The boys are so engrossed in finding a solution that they don’t 

even note my presence. 

“Fuck! That fucking doctor!” Alessio throws his phone hard against a wall that it smashes into tiny pieces as he grits each word out and I flinch. “They did this on purpose. They waited for us to get so close to the house before they attacked because they knew Matteo’s father wouldn’t be home and the doctor would be far away from here.” Alessio’s voice gets louder in irritation as he paces back and forth. 

The boys argue back and forth as they come up with different solutions. They obviously can’t operate on him because the bullet hit a very delicate place and they have no experience. Maxwell suggests that they take the chopper but they immediately dismiss the idea having considered the fact that those who attacked them might be waiting to launch another attack. 

They conclude that the attack was solely to take Matteo’s life and they can’t put him at risk by taking him outside the gates of the estate. 

I clear my throat and Matteo’s head snaps to mine. We hold our stare for longer than a minute and I mouth ‘Dio mio, gaining a strained scoff 

from him. 

He gives me a tight lipped smile, “There she is…my wife. I’ve been asking for you.” That’s the last thing he says before his eyes shut and his head falls to the side. I scream his name and run to him, immediately placing my palms one above the other on the left side of his chest 

“Keep pressure on it. Don’t fucking stop until I say otherwise,” I breathe out as I commence a CPR procedure. I sniffle and tears stream down my face as I continue applying chest compressions on Matteo 

Minutes pass and he finally gasps out a breath and I shudder. I have no explanation as to how I’m feeling or how I’m reacting at the moment because I’m unaware of my own sell All I know is that I’m beside my husband who seems to be bleeding out a little too much and I’m unable to help him. 

I’m unable to help him because I’m afraid of what the outcome might be. 

I have an idea–scratch that, I am ninety percent sure that I can perform a successful surgery on him but I’m so scared that my hands are trembling. It has been so long since I tried my hand out with it but if I delay any further, Matteo might just die and I’d hate myself for not trying at all. 

God help me. 

This is fucked up. 

I gather the courage and declare, “I’ll do it.” 

The room go silent for minutes and even if I’m not directly looking at any of the boys, I know their cues are threatening to burn holes through me. I let out a shaky exhale, “I’ll perform the surgery. I can–I have an idea.” My voice is shaky and Alessio laughs at me in mockery, more so in 

anger. 

pect us to let you perform a surgery on him based on an idea? Are you insane?” His voice roars and I clasp my fingers together. 

“You expect 

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“What other choices do you have? I’m able to help him make progress but what are you able to do? Stand around and banter words with each other like little girls until he dies? If he loses more blood than he already has, what do you think will happen, huh?” I make sure to keep my voice as steady and as threatening as possible. 

“You better watch that mouth of yours!” Alessio warns and I scoff as I narrow my eyes at him. “Or what? You better get off your high horse and let me do something at least or you’d be planning your so–called brother’s funeral in a matter of minutes.” 

Where the hell is all this courage coming from? 

Alessio stares at me in despair for a few more seconds until he’s resolved on a decision. “Well then, just be sure nothing goes wrong or I’ll make sure to cut you into little pieces and feed you to my dogs.” 

Now that’s one hell of a threat. 

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