Revenge Wedding With the Mafia Queen Chapter 06

Revenge Wedding With the Mafia Queen Chapter 06

Sean’s POV 

Max turned away. 

Brandon’s screams still echoed. 

He knelt on the ground, the silver fork stuck in his hand, blood dripping down his fingers. 

But then he looked up, eyes wild with desperate madness. 

“If I’m going down,” he snarled, yanking the fork from his hand in a spray of blood, “I’m taking you 

with me!” 

He lunged at Max. 

Time froze. I saw the bloodied fork, Max’s terrified little face. 

“Max-!” 

Instinct took over. I threw myself toward him, trying to shield my son completely. 

Then everything went black. 

When I woke, I saw a pure white ceiling. 

Not the cold marble of the ballroom, but a soft bed, warm lighting. A private medical suite. 

Everything hurt. My shoulder burned, my face was swollen, my right hand was immobilized. 

But none of that mattered. 

“Max…” My voice was hoarse. “Where’s Max?” 

A warm hand tightened around my left. Lucia sat by the bed, eyes bloodshot, makeup still on, her usually perfect hair a mess. The coldest mafia queen of Naples 

boked more wrecked than I felt. 

“Tesoro, you’re awake,” she whispered, voice heavy with relief. 

“Max?” I pressed, more urgent. “Is he okay? That bastard-” 

A rustle came from beside the bed. 

“Daddy!” 

Max was leaning against the bedside, small hands gripping my shirt. When he saw I was awake, tears welled in his eyes. 

“Daddy… you’re finally awake…” 

I touched his face with my left hand, trembling as I checked him over. “Are you hurt? Did that piece of trash touch you?” 

Max shook his head hard, tears wetting his cheeks. “I‘ 

m fine. Uncle Marco kicked the bad man away. He flew across the room before he could touch me.” 

He sniffled, trying to straighten up. “Mama says everyone in the Salvatore family protects each other. I didn’t cry. Right?” 

Tears filled my eyes. A four–year–old, watching his father covered in blood, forcing himself not to break. 

“You did perfect,” I said, pulling him into a tight hug. “Daddy’s so proud of you.” 

Max finally broke, sobbing into my chest. I held him close, gently patting his back, my own eyes stinging. 

Lucia wrapped her arms around both of us, burying her face in the crook of my neck, forehead pressed to my chest. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice thick with guilt. “I was too late.” 

I lifted my good arm, clumsy but firm, and wrapped it around her back, pulling her closer. “No. You came just in time. You saved us.” 

The moment lasted a few minutes. Max’s cries slowly quieted into soft hiccups. 

Lucia lifted her head. “You were out for a day. The doctor said you lost a lot of blood. And the shock…” 

She paused, her gaze softening. “But tesoro… there’s good news.” 

I looked at her, confused. 

Lucia took my hand and gently guided it to rest on her lower stomach. 

She whispered, a small smile finally touching her lips, “I’m pregnant.” 

I froze. The whole world seemed to go silent. 

“What?” 

“The doctor just confirmed it. Six weeks.” Lucia met my eyes. “Are you happy, baby?” 

“Really?” My voice shook. “We’re really having another baby?” 

Lucia nodded, brushing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Really.” 

“I’m gonna be a big brother!” Max lifted his head, eyes wide. “I’ll protect the baby! Brother or sister!” 

“Our family is growing again,” she murmured near my ear, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I’m stepping back from work for a while. Until you’re healed, I’m not going anywhere. Just you and the kids. 

In that moment, all the pain faded away. I had Lucia. I had Max. And now this little life growing inside her. I had everything. 

But reality soon returned. 

As the warmth faded, memories of the banquet rushed back. Anger simmered under my skin. 

“Those two…” I looked at Lucia, my voice turning cold. 

“What happened to them?” 

Lucia’s expression shifted instantly. The softness vanished, replaced by that familiar icy gleam. 

“Still alive. In the basement.” 

“I didn’t kill them,” she said, watching me closely.” Because I wanted to ask you… what you wanted to do with them.” 

I was silent for a moment. Memories flashed–five years ago, the bride’s dressing room, Brandon’s disheveled tux, Vivian’s cold stare. Then the 

humiliation at the dress shop, the torture in the ballroom. 

“What have you done so far?” I asked. 

Lucia’s voice was eerily calm. “Vivian’s hands. I had them removed.” 

I showed no reaction. Just listened. 

“She touched you with those hands. So I took them.” 

“Brandon’s face…” She paused. “I had it destroyed with acid. He mocked you with that face. Now he has none. 

Max lay quietly against my chest, his small face expressionless. This was a Salvatore child—already numb to bloodshed at four. 

“Vivian’s family, the Morettis, disowned her this morning,” Lucia continued. “Her mother personally delivered reparations–control of three Brooklyn piers.” 

“Brandon’s family fared worse. The Rossi patriarch had a heart attack on the spot. He’s still in the ICU. His brothers publicly vowed to execute Brandon themselves to save face.” 

I listened, feeling nothing. They deserved it. 

“I want to see them,” I said. 

Lucia frowned. “Are you sure? It’s… not a pretty sight. 

“I’m sure,” I said, holding her gaze. “I need to see what’s left of them.” 

Lucia studied me for a long moment, weighing something. She cupped my face gently, careful to avoid the bruises. “I don’t want you exposed to that again. You’ve been through enough, tesoro.” 

I didn’t look away. 

She finally sighed. “Alright. When you’re stronger, I’ll take you.” 

I’ll keep them alive until you’ve seen enough.”