"Marcello?" Bambina raised her eyebrows and her face went void of any emotions, "You mean the Don of Marsalis Mafia? I'm dealing with him, don't worry."

"It's not that," the old man sighed, "your madre, padre and I know that he's the father to your babies."

There was no visible reaction on her face, she remained stoic, indifferent, "So?"

"You've been through a lot, and for that, we're all really sorry. Your parents, if you choose so, will support any of your decisions regarding him, and the possibility of the Dead Royals joining the Marsalis Mafia." As the words left his mouth, Bambina gaped in shock, that was the last thing that she was expecting to hear.

Her heart dropped as the realisation of her actions hit her full speed.

"It's too late." One of the things that she hated about being pregnant was her almost inability to control her emotions.

Armando watched the tears trail down her face and his heart reached to comfort the woman he saw as a daughter, "If he truly loves you, it is never too late."

But kilometres (or miles if you're fancy) away from them, Marcello was infuriated.

How could she be so determined to ensure that they couldn't be together again?

He concluded that she lied. She didn't love him, she was simply playing him, and he wouldn't allow his heart to get the better of him.

He wouldn't let her play him like that, he wasn't going to continue acting needy to someone who only aimed to hurt him, regardless of if she was carrying his children or not.

She thought that she could just drag him along, he would make sure that she suffered.

---

She placed a hand on her racing heart as she sat on the swivel chair. Her other hands' finger traced the pattern on the white gun.

She was determined, she would redeem herself of her previous actions.

The door banged open and her head shot up, there, in all his glory was Marcello, in a suit that did him no justice.

Her heart began to race even more.

"Marcello," her pink lips curled up into a welcoming smile.

Marcello's face remained expressionless, lips in a straight line, and eyes full of determination.

"I will address you as Donna DiAngelo, and I ask that you address me with my title as well." He took a couple of steps towards the desk before stopping.

The orange sunlight from the window made Bambina look as if she were glowing, making him want to squint his eyes, but he wouldn't, that might show weakness. She was a snake, constantly slithering to find a crack in the armour so that she could attack.

Bambina's face was open as surprise became clear on it, but she laughed as if he told a humorous joke, "Marcello, you're joking!"

He gritted his teeth, "Donna DiAngelo, I assure I'm not, I came here to have a professional meeting, and that's exactly what I'm going to get."

She was getting frustrated now, who was he to order her about?

"Marcello, you don't get to speak to me like that!" She glared venomously, her hand stopping its action of tracing the patterns.

"I do if you continue to address me informally." His hand gripped the gun on his waistband.

He wouldn't really shoot her, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity of threatening her.

Her eyes trailed to his sudden movement, a feeling of shock and fear made her want to shiver.

Fear of what he might do, and fear for her babies' lives, she completely ignored the fact that her men had their guns pointed at him now. It was the very notion that he would if he could.

The flash of fear in her arms made Marcello want to just go up to her and hug her, but he reminded himself that she was just acting.

"Don Marsalis," Bambina spat, her heart accelerating in anger, "next time you decide to indirectly threaten me, you might want to think again."

She eyed the black gun that had similar gold engravings on it as hers.

"Donna, I merely would like to finish this discussion so that I can go back home, I'm sure you feel the same."

No, I don't, was what she wanted to say, but she refrained, "Don Marsalis, I am in charge here, this is my territory, and it would do you well to remember that. So we, therefore, discuss what I want to discuss. If I wat to talk about ponies, we talk about ponies, if I want to talk about how I think the Kardashians are overrated, we will talk about that, capisce?"

He was practically seeing red and he so desperately wanted to shoot someone. He wanted to shoot her, but not her - because he couldn't bear the thought of her in pain - at the same time, it was a confusing feeling.

He grunted and clenched his jaw, "Now, Marcello, would you like to inform me of the reason for your change of attitude?"

"None of your business." Marcello looked away from her face, hating the look of hurt present in her big brown eyes.

She lifted a hand and flicked her hand. Her men in the room filtered out in an orderly manner, leaving the two alone.

"Marcello, what happened? Just yesterday you told me you loved me."

He took a deep breath, "I loved you."

She sucked in a breath, eyes widening and heartbreaking, "I know I screwed up, but please listen to me, I -"

"Why the fuck should I listen to you?" Marcello growled out.

"I love you!"

"No, you don't love me." He shook his head and turned to leave.

"Please don't leave me," her voice was small as she released her vulnerabilities into it, unable to watch the man she loved walk away like that.

"Give me one single fucking reason why I shouldn't leave."

Bambina stood with much struggle, making her way to him and grasping his forearm, "I need you, you need me. Please, stay."

She hadn't realised that the glossy, salty tears were trailing down her face.

Marcello kept his gaze forward as a lump began to grow in his throat, if he looked at her heartbroken face, he wouldn't be able to stay strong, "I don't need you, I don't love you."

A sob escaped her mouth as her hands let go of his arm and she slowly fell to the ground, one arm beginning to hug her belly while the other reached for him, "I don't understand, don't you see that I'm trying? Why can't you love me back?" Bambine yelled as more sobs escaped her.

He left without another word, leaving the woman he loved behind as she cried on the floor, repeating the words, "Please, stay, I love you."

He left a piece of his heart behind, but it was too late, he couldn't go back - as much as he wanted to.

Authors Note

I was listening to a bunch of sad songs while writing this. LOL

Btw, thanks for reading :)