Mafia Queen – Chapter 73



Written By : Pamela James

�Youngicee stories


Chapter 73

Daniella’s p.o.v

“I’m sorry, princess,” he said, breathing hard.

“Yeah, I’m guilty… really guilty. I treated you badly… but it was in the past… totally in the past when I was still too stupid to even admit that I’ve had feelings for you.”

Oh! Suddenly, I was speechless.

Now, I couldn’t say even a word.

How could I believe that he had feelings for me back then?

A lump formed in my chest and I wanted to release the pain I was feeling by shedding a tear.

I struggled once more from his embrace.

He was saying that he was just holding back his feelings because he treated me bad.

Oh, the great Damien !

If he indeed had feelings for me even before, then he was really the greatest hypocrite on the face of the planet!

I humbled myself, endured his bullying and insults, did all crazy things merely for him… only to find out now that, all those times, when he was being proud and arrogant, affecting me offensively and damagingly, he was actually falling in love with me!

Wasn’t it the greatest crap in the whole wide world?

Did he expect me to jump with joy right now that I knew he had feelings for me even before?

Eventually, tears dropped from my eyes.

I leaped to the floor from his lap and Damien was stunned by my sudden escape.


He wanted to talk to me?

Well, I just lost all interest to listen to him.

How could he swallow all the pain and heartache I was feeling before by pretending that he didn’t love me?

How could he let me be in so much pain?

Because of his damn pride and not knowing how to show you he loves you, Daniella, my mind answered.

And there was no need for me to ask why he treated me that way.

I knew exactly the reason why.

It was one of the many reasons that made me run away from him.

Too angry to even talk a word, I stood in front of him like a post and jerked my head away.

I really felt like not looking at him.

I just couldn’t look at him.

“Since my mother died, I’d been feeling like I was a lifeless body,” he then stated hoarsely.

The mention of his late mother made me glance back at him.

Still sitting on the couch, Damien grabbed his hair with his hands as he bent his head down, his elbows on his knees.

I steadied my eyes on him and he continued talking,

“She was everything to me, like really everything, because she understood and loved me. Her smile, her little quirks, her mannerisms, her gestures. She was just perfect.”

So Damien was starting to recall things in the past and there was something in me that was ignited.
I wanted to listen more.

“When I saw you, you reminded me of her. The way you talked, your smile. Everything, reminded me of her. I just couldn’t let you go. I wanted to have you to myself…I….”

“I don’t think I can listen still…” I said with tears in my eyes.

Yes, I couldn’t help it.

Tears fell from my eyes.

I couldn’t stop them from running down through my cheeks.

My family was maltreated because I reminded him of his mother?

I lost my job because I reminded him of his mother?

I fvcking didn’t had no friends because I reminded him of his late mother?

“Are you done now?” I asked after several seconds.

“Why did you stop talking?”

Would listening to him even be important to me now?

I had claimed myself to have moved on already from the past… so would it still do any good to me if I would listen to him now?

But my heart skipped wildly as if recommending me to tell him to continue…

suggesting me to listen.

At least, to listen would be answering some questions about the past… or tying some loose ends.


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