Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 11: Chapter 11 June Harper

Late Night

Inside Ward 417, the lights were dim. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the harsh fluorescent glow of the hospital corridor, leaving only the soft amber light from a single lamp on the side table.

On the leather couch near the window, Alessio Ricci sat with his phone pressed to his ear, his dark green eyes fixed on nothing. His shoulder still ached from the bullet wound, a dull throb that felt more annoying than painful, but his face showed no expression, as always. He had learned long ago that showing pain was a luxury he could not afford.

His brother’s voice came through the speaker, serious and businesslike, the tone Rafael used only when discussing work. "Bro, You have a new mission with June Harper as the target. Although I prefer not to assign tasks during your recovery, this particular assignment is not demanding and can be completed without impeding your recuperation."

Alessio’s expression did not change. "June Harper." The name rolled off his tongue like something bitter. A businessman and a smuggler. Someone who had crossed the Ricci family and thought he could hide.

Thought he could disappear into the shadows and wait for the storm to pass. People like that always underestimated how long the Ricci family could wait.

Rafael continued, his voice low and cold. "He has been under protection of the Evermont family for the past three months. They have been hiding him, moving him around, and paying off people to keep his location secret. Every time we get close, he slips away. Someone inside their organization is feeding him information."

Alessio’s jaw tightened slightly. The Evermont family. Diamond City’s so-called elite. They were not mafia, just businessmen and socialites, old money who thought their wealth made them untouchable. They played at power while sipping champagne at charity galas, never getting their hands dirty, never understanding what true darkness looked like. They had no idea what kind of world they were playing in.

"Got it," Alessio said calmly. "So you are saying we need to start with that family?"

Rafael’s voice was deep and cold. "That old man, James Evermont, is just three doors away from your room, bro. You need to extend your stay here and get close to him. I have heard that everyone listens to that old man. His word is law in that family. If he gives an order, they follow. No questions asked."

Alessio glanced toward the door of his room. Three doors away. He had seen the old man once, being wheeled down the corridor by a nurse, a blanket tucked around his thin legs, his white hair catching the light. He had looked fragile.

"Don’t worry," Alessio said casually, leaning back against the couch. The leather creaked beneath him. His shoulder protested, but he ignored it.

He was not interested in this mission, if he was being honest with himself. June Harper was a small target, a minor annoyance, a gnat buzzing around the edges of their empire.

The kind of mission he would normally delegate to one of his captains without a second thought. He did not want to take much stress for such a small task.

But Rafael had asked. And Rafael never asked for things lightly.

He would meet the old man tomorrow and see if he could gather information. Old men liked to talk, especially when they were lonely, especially when they thought no one was listening.

"Fine," Alessio said. "I will handle it."

"Good," Rafael replied. Then Rafael spoke again, his voice gentle. "Get some sleep, big bro. You are still healing. The bullet went through muscle. That takes time. Do not be stubborn."

Alessio did not respond. He ended the call and set his phone down on the arm of the couch.

Meanwhile – Room 412

Three doors away, the atmosphere was completely different.

Warm light spilled from the small lamp beside Grandpa James’s bed, casting golden shadows across the room. The television played softly in the background, some old black and white movie that none of them were really watching. A couple on the screen was dancing, the woman’s dress flowing around her like water, the man’s hand pressed to her back. The dialogue was muffled and barely audible, just background noise to fill the silence.

The smell of lavender from Margaret’s diffuser filled the room, mixing with the faint scent of tea and freshly baked cookies. The windows were slightly open, letting in a breeze that carried the distant sound of traffic and the occasional cry of a night bird.

Daisy sat in her usual chair beside Grandpa James’s bed, her knitting needles clicking softly in the quiet. The yellow scarf was almost finished now, the pattern repeating, the yarn soft beneath her fingers. She had chosen the color because it reminded her of sunshine because Grandpa James had once said that yellow was the color of hope.

Grandpa James was dozing, his head tilted back against the pillows, his mouth slightly open. His breathing was shallow, each breath a small effort, but his face was peaceful. The medication made him sleepy, but he always fought to stay awake just a little longer, just to spend more time with Daisy. He would open his eyes every few minutes, check that she was still there, smile and drift off again.

Margaret sat in the corner, reading a worn paperback novel, her reading glasses perched on her nose. The book’s spine was cracked, the pages yellowed with age. It was one of her favorites, an old romance novel. Every few minutes, she would look up and check on Daisy, her eyes soft with something between affection and pity.

Daisy looked peaceful. Her hands moved automatically, the knitting needles clicking in a rhythm she did not have to think about. Her face was calm, her eyes half closed but inside, her mind was churning.

Truthfully, she missed Cedric.

She hated herself for it. She knew what he was doing. She knew he was on that cruise ship with Jessica, probably holding her hand, probably kissing her neck, probably whispering things he had never whispered to Daisy. She knew he did not love her. She knew he never had. But still, somewhere deep in her chest, in a place she could not reach no matter how hard she tried, she missed him.

After some time, the yellow scarf lay forgotten in her lap. Grandpa James was sleeping soundly now, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, his face slack with exhaustion. Margaret had retired to the small bedroom attached to the ward, leaving Daisy alone.

Daisy stood up slowly, careful not to wake the old man. Her bare feet made no sound on the cold floor as she walked toward the glass door that led to the small balcony. The handle was cool beneath her fingers. She pushed the door open.

The night air greeted her like a gentle kiss.

She stepped outside, the cool breeze wrapping around her bare arms, raising goosebumps on her skin. The sky above was vast and dark, scattered with stars that seemed to twinkle just for her. The moon hung low and full, casting silver light across the hospital garden below. The trees swayed gently, their leaves rustling in the wind. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

Daisy leaned against the railing and looked up.

The moon was beautiful tonight. It had been a long time since she had simply stood outside and looked at the sky. In Cedric’s mansion, she was not allowed to go out at night. Jenna said it was improper. Jessica said it was weird. Cedric just did not care.

But here, on this small balcony, with no one watching and no one judging, she could breathe.

She pulled out her phone.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she scrolled to Cedric’s number. She knew she should not call. She knew he would not want to hear from her. She knew he was probably with Jessica, laughing, drinking, forgetting she existed. But she just wanted to hear his voice and see his face.

She pressed the video call button.

The phone sang its lonely song three times before a click silenced it.

Cedric answered.