Mafia Queen – Chapter 80



Written By : Pamela James

�Youngicee stories


Chapter 80

Daniella’s p.o.v

I had several dreams.

Most of them were about someone.

In those dreams, I saw him carrying a cup of tea or a bowl of soup and persuading me in his whispers to have a taste of it.

I also saw him checking on my temperature and inserting some tablets into my mouth.

In those dreams, I saw him rubbing a cold, damp washcloth on my forehead, in my neck, in my arms, and other parts of my body which helped me feel a little relieved.

Most of all, in those dreams, I saw him lying beside me, embracing me as I slept, and kissing me in the forehead whenever he found the need to.


I opened my eyes and felt terribly tired.

I felt like I had been to a walk for a thousand miles.

My heart and my body ached so much. It felt so weird to feel that I had been to hiking when at the same I felt I was in bed for a couple of days.

I let my eyes roam around and I learned that I was in my room at the palacio.

I was lying with my back on the bed.

However, what surprised me was the fact that a muscular arm was enveloping my body.


I wasn’t sleeping alone!

I was actually lying in bed with someone!

I turned my face to my left and saw his countenance.

Our bodies were pressed against each other.


He was lying on his side, facing me and still sleeping, and his hot breathing in my cheek was like a sunshine to a plant. It brought some form of energy in my desolated heart.

Are you for real, Damien?

Are you really here with me?

I blinked my eyes and I realized that I wasn’t dreaming.

Everything was real.

I was in bed with him under some sheet and he was actually hugging me.

What exactly happened?

Why were we in this condition?

Why was he in my bed?

So he had already arrived from abroad…

Trying to find some answers to my questions, I just stared at his face.

Not being able to help myself, I ran my fingers on his left jawline and played with his stubble.

The short hairs pretty tickled my hand.

Slowly, he opened his beautiful pair of eyes and, instantly, they found mine.

He gazed at me and I immediately behaved my hand by pulling it away from his jaw.

He was serious, as in disturbingly serious, like he didn’t have any plan to smile.

Then, after several moments, he lifted his arm from my waist as if telling me silently that he wanted his body to be separated from mine.

I was surprised.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, taking off the blanket, as he sat up at my side.

There was coldness in his tone.

“I… I’m feeling… a bit tired… but, I think, I’m okay now. Why? What happened to me?” I asked innocently.

I had a little feeling on what happened but I needed a confirmation.

“You had fever,” he said, still maintaining that cold tone.

“Really?” I uttered, wondering.

He nodded, then he stared at me again for a long time as if there were lots of questions in his eyes.

I became so conscious of the way he was scrutinizing me that I turned my head away.

Why are you staring at me that way, Damien?

“I’ll tell the house help and nurse that you have already woken up.” I heard him talk later, very coldly.

I felt him move at my side as he stood up.

Next thing I knew, he was already out of my room.

There was a great pang of pain in my heart when he was finally gone… so really painful… because his treatment to me now reminded me of the old Damien… cold and uncaring.



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