Matteo

The rain fell heavily on the rooftops of Naples. The air smelled of gunpowder, of betrayal. In the center of the living room of the old mafia mansion, Don Matteo Romano, had his gaze fixed on the door. His wife, Luisa, was beside him, with a hand on his arm, noticing how her husband's tense muscles announced imminent danger.

Matteo was feared by everyone, but only she knew the real man behind the name: the jealous husband who wouldn't let anyone get too close, the mobster who would leave his gun on the table to hug her from behind while she cooked, the tender father who dreamed of a quiet life away from the chaos.

The betrayal came quickly. One of his men, blinded by envy, entered firing.

Matteo reacted furiously, pushing Luisa behind him. But Luisa, without thinking, threw herself in front of her husband when she saw the cannon pointed directly at her heart.

The gunshot boomed like thunder. Luisa fell to her knees, clutching her abdomen, where blood was already beginning to stain her cream-colored dress.

"—Luisa!" Matteo shouted, catching her in his arms. "No, no, no, my love! Why did you do that?"

She was breathing with difficulty, but still conscious. He took her hand, his eyes shining with love and pain.

—Because I'd rather be the one to suffer... than to lose you.

He pressed his wound, shouted orders, and his people ran to get help. On his face, tears mixed with rage. He had faced bullets, enemies, even death, but never the fear of losing her like this.

That night, the ambulance arrived in time. Luisa survived.

But Matteo changed.

He never left her alone again. He slept beside her with the gun on the nightstand and his hand on her belly, fearing that fate would take her away from him again.

Each of her scars was now part of her soul. And every time she looked at her, she couldn't help but whisper to her:

—You saved my life… but in doing so, you took my heart with you.

The rain fell heavily on the rooftops of Naples. The air smelled of gunpowder, of betrayal. In the center of the living room of the old mafia mansion, Don Matteo Romano, had his gaze fixed on the door. His wife, Luisa, was beside him, with a hand on his arm, noticing how her husband's tense muscles announced imminent danger.

Matteo was feared by everyone, but only she knew the real man behind the name: the jealous husband who wouldn't let anyone get too close, the mobster who would leave his gun on the table to hug her from behind while she cooked, the tender father who dreamed of a quiet life away from the chaos.

The betrayal came quickly. One of his men, blinded by envy, entered firing.

Matteo reacted furiously, pushing Luisa behind him. But Luisa, without thinking, threw herself in front of her husband when she saw the cannon pointed directly at her heart.

The gunshot boomed like thunder. Luisa fell to her knees, clutching her abdomen, where blood was already beginning to stain her cream-colored dress.

"—Luisa!" Matteo shouted, catching her in his arms. "No, no, no, my love! Why did you do that?"

She was breathing with difficulty, but still conscious. He took her hand, his eyes shining with love and pain.

—Because I'd rather be the one to suffer... than to lose you.

He pressed his wound, shouted orders, and his people ran to get help. On his face, tears mixed with rage. He had faced bullets, enemies, even death, but never the fear of losing her like this.

That night, the ambulance arrived in time. Luisa survived.

But Matteo changed.

He never left her alone again. He slept beside her with the gun on the nightstand and his hand on her belly, fearing that fate would take her away from him again.

Each of her scars was now part of her soul. And every time she looked at her, she couldn't help but whisper to her:

—You saved my life… but in doing so, you took my heart. you kiss him