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The Runaway Mafia Bride

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She doesn't want anything to do with her past. He will stop at nothing to win her heart, even if it meant taking her back to her family. **** Two people with an intertwined past. A nasty secret that could cause everything to crumble down. And a former love rekindled. When the young tortured daughter of an ex mafia lord breaks off an engagement and runs away, hiding under a different identity. She believes that she's free from that shackle until she stumbles right back into the arms of the boy she left behind. Love is formed anew. Jealous flares and buried skeletons are being revealed. The question now is; Will Estella run away again before the storm catches up to her?


The loud crackle of the thunder caused the earth to rumble in response. It wasn't even up to a second when the sky opened up, releasing torrents of rain unto the ground. The trees swayed with the heavy winds and some of the rusty aluminium sheets on the roof of a few houses on the row pulled off, drifting into the distance.

The small narrow street in the town of Ostashkov was devoid of people, everyone having escaped into their homes to shield themselves from the angry burst of the weather. But it was of no use to some, especially those who had their weakened roofs removed by the wind.

Inside the dark, grungy street there was a particular house at the end of the road and in the house, a small room. Two women stood inside the dimly lit room, both of them sharing the same expressions of concern as they watched their friend struggle for air on the bed.

"Come on," Andrea, one of the women, urged, her head buried in between Natalie's legs, "I can see the child's head now, just a little more. Push!"

Natalie grabbed onto the fingers of Lyanna, squeezing harshly as she forced her back away from the bed and screamed in agony, "Arrgh!"

Natalie fell back down on the bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly, cold sweat rolling down her forehead, Lyanna moved quickly dabbing a wet towel against her face.

"I can't," Natalie cried, shaking her head from side to side, "I can't."

Andrea's head popped up from between her legs, "You have to, Natalie! Your child's life depends on this!"

"Yes, Natalie," Lyanna nodded in agreement, pushing away the soaked strands of hair away from her face, "You have to do this."

Natalie nodded and Lyanna placed a small horizontal rag into her mouth for her to bite on. Natalie s*ck*d in a sharp breath and bit on the rag, pushing with all her might.

As she screamed, the sky echoed with her, thundering and crackling with so much force that the roof above their heads shook with the effect.

The sound of a crying child brought so much relief to her ears. She panted, spitting out the rag from her mouth and falling against the plush mattress. Her fingers dropped from Lyanna's hand and she worked to regain her breath.

"Oh, Khristos! It's a girl," Lyanna cooed, her heart swelling with joy as she watched Andrea wrap the child in a white blanket.

Andrea marched forward, rocking the mewling banay girl in her arms. She stopped beside Natalie, smiling softly as she presented the child,

"She's beautiful, Nat."

Natalie smiled shakily and with the help of Lyanna was raised to a seating position. Andrea gently placed the baby in her mother's arms, watching as her friend's face instantly lit up with joy.

"Look at her nose," Natalie spoke softly, rubbing her thumb against her child's cheek, "She's going to be very pretty, I just know it."

The baby crooned quietly and Natalie rocked her, shushing her with her lips. Lyanna and Andrea watched their friend with sympathy.

Natalie didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve the life thrown at her and yet, she had to suffer for it. Andrea moved to speak but Lyanna held her hand, shaking her head.

Andrea blew out a frustrated breath, her eyes flickering to the mother and child. She knew that she couldn't just keep quiet.

"You don't have to do this, Natalie."

Natalie froze, the smile on her face instantly dropping. Natalie slowly lifted her head, grey eyes falling on the two females.

"I have to," She looked back down at the angel in her arms, "For my child's survival, this is the only thing I can do."

Andrea made to speak but she gave her look and then passed the child to Lyanna who quickly accepted the bundle of joy.

"Get me a paper and pen."

"But you-"

"Andrea," She threw her a stern look and the female sighed, walking away towards the corner of the room and returning with a piece of paper and pen.

Andrea placed it on her palms, giving her a disapproving stare, "We have to stitch you up, you're badly wounded."

Natalie nodded, her body weakening with each movement, "Later, we have to do this now."

Her fingers moved hastily against the paper, each stroke and letters were smooth and curled. Her signature handwriting that people always complimented. When she was done, she handed the paper to Andrea.

"This letter has the power to save my child's life," Andrea clutched it in her palms and squeezed, "And I'm leaving it with you, help me."

Andrea swallowed the tight lump in her throat and nodded, her watery gaze falling on the child that was no eagerly suckling on her mother's breast.

The three women worked swiftly, well only two of them. While Andrea moved to clean up and stitch Natalie, Lyanna arranged the child, wrapping her up in a warm blanket.

Once they were done, Andrea shrugged on a large raincoat and boots to match. Lyanna walked over to her, child in arms and Andrea sighed, her gaze flickering to Natalie who was watching them with sad eyes.

Andrea cocked a brow, asking silently if she was sure of this and Natalie, having understood, nodded once and looked away, towards the window. Andrea caught how her lower jaw trembled, her fingers balling into a tight fist.

She shook her head in disappointment and took the child from Lyanna.

"Be safe," The female told her softly and she smiled in response.

Andrea turned towards the door and unlocked it, the sky was still pouring outside which would mean that nobody was going to be on the streets. It was the perfect opportunity. With a heavy sigh, she squared her shoulders and held the child tightly before taking the first step out.

Natalie was barely able to see with the wind whipping at her face and the rain slapping at her. The poor child kept crying in her arms and she did her best to shield the baby from the cold rain.

She remembered the address Natalie had told her, after all they'd snuck in a few times to watch the glamorous family. The moment she spotted the large house, she breathed shakily.

As expected no soul was in sight and she hastily climbed up the stairs leading to the grand doors. Luckily, the area was dry and protected from the harsh weather so she was assured that the child would be safe.

"Shush now, child," She cooed softly, her voice trembling as she spoke, "You're right where you belong."

Andrea crouched down, placing the wrapped baby at the foot of the door. The child wailed even more, stretching her tiny fingers towards her and Andrea fought to hold back her tears.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, placing the card that Natalie had previously given her on top the baby's stomach.

Andrea apologized again, raising to fingers to her lips and placing it on the child's forehead.

"Be safe."

As if the child knew what was going to happen next, her lips parted wider and she released a very loud wail, causing the sky to echo with her. Andrea looked away, tightening her hold on the coat and standing straight.

Without another word, she marched forward and sped into the street, running without looking back.



I'd always been the odd one out of my family. And no, I wasn't talking about how I was the only person who loved to stay in the gardens although father had specifically warned me against it.

I meant how I looked different from my mother and sister, while they boasted of blonde hair and bright blue eyes with model like faces and body structure, I on the other hand, inherited frizzy chestnut colored hair and unnatural grey eyes. Father had always said that they reminded him of the sky when it was overcast but mother had directly told me that it was an ugly and murky color.

Either ways, I looked nothing like my mother and sister. Luckily, people always said that I had a great deal of resemblance to my father, that was the only assurance I had that I was not adopted or picked off from the streets.

"Come here, pompom," I cooed gently at the feline that had wrapped itself around the branch of the large tree in front of me.


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