Make Me Moan, Daddy-Chapter 26

REINA

The next picture made my heart squeeze.

Me and Paolo.

Our first date as a couple.

We were sitting too close in that little café downtown—his arm slung around me, his grin boyish and smug, mine soft and shy. I remembered the way his thumb had brushed over my knuckles under the table, the way he’d looked at me like I was something fragile and rare.

My fingers trembled as I traced his face in the photograph, the glossy paper cool beneath my skin.

His smile looked so alive, so full of promise it hurt to look at it.

A sad smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. The kind that carried both warmth and regret.

If only I could reach through that picture, freeze that moment—before everything went wrong, before I learned that love could feel this heavy.

"He’s been good to you," my aunt said softly. "You know, I never told you this, but I’m grateful to Paolo. He’s given you a good life. A stable one I couldn’t give you. I don’t worry about you as much anymore. It was all thanks to him."

I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure what to say. If only she knew.

"He has," I said eventually, forcing a small nod. Hoping it was convincing. "He’s... he’s good."

She looked at me over her glasses. "That doesn’t sound convincing."

I laughed weakly. "We’re just... adjusting. You know how marriage is."

Her hand came to rest gently on mine. "You can tell me if something’s wrong, Reina. You always can. I might not understand everything young people do these days, but I’ll always have your back."

Her words made my throat tighten. "I know, Auntie. You’ve always been there for me."

"Good," she said softly. "Because lately you seem... different. Distracted. Even when you talk to me, your mind seems somewhere else. Are you having problems with Paolo? Or is this because you’re going back to school after taking such long break?"

I looked away, my eyes fixed on the album. There were newer pictures there—me at university, smiling with a few friends I met through Tessa, holding a small trophy from a school event. I traced the edge of one photo with my thumb.

"School will be fine," I murmured. "I’m supposed to resume tomorrow. Just... not sure I’m ready."

"You’ve always been ready for more," she said. "You just need to believe it. You’ve come so far from that little girl who could barely speak when she moved in here. Don’t let fear hold you back now."

I smiled faintly. "You always say the right things."

She laughed softly. "That’s because I’ve had practice. I raised you."

That made me laugh too, for real this time. For a brief moment, I let myself sink into that warmth, into the quiet safety that only she could give. The world outside felt far away, like something I could forget if I just stayed here long enough.

But deep down, I knew that peace wouldn’t last.

Because the longer we talked, the louder my heartbeat grew. Not from comfort—but from dread. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already close. That any minute now, I’d hear that knock.

"So tell me," she said, breaking my thoughts. "You and Paolo—do you still plan to move to Milan after graduation? He mentioned it last time he called."

I froze. "He... mentioned that?"

"Yes," she said cheerfully. "He sounded excited about it. Said he found a company looking for interns. He really seems to care about your future, Reina."

"Yeah," I murmured. "He’s always... planning."

"Which is good," she said. "He’s responsible. Ambitious. A good man for you."

I nodded numbly, my stomach twisting. "He is."

She noticed my tone. "Sweetheart, are you sure everything’s fine?"

I hesitated. I wanted to tell her everything—that I wasn’t fine, that I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross, that I didn’t know who I was anymore when he was in the picture. But I couldn’t. Not to her. Not with those kind, trusting eyes watching me.

"I’m okay," I whispered finally.

Her expression softened, though she didn’t quite believe me. "You’ve always been strong, Reina. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. Promise me, if something’s ever too heavy, you’ll talk to me first. Don’t keep it locked inside."

I swallowed hard. "I promise."

She smiled, squeezing my hand gently. "Good girl."

Oh, not that word again.

I didn’t want to think of Domenico. Please please.

We fell into silence for a while. The only sounds were the quiet hum of the old wall clock and the distant rustle of leaves outside the window. My aunt turned a few more pages—pictures of birthdays, family gatherings, summer trips. I caught glimpses of laughter frozen in time, moments that used to feel like forever.

And then, for the first time all night, I felt calm. Almost safe.

But calm never lasts with him.

It started faintly—the sound of a car pulling up outside. The low hum of an engine that cut abruptly, followed by footsteps on gravel. My breath caught. Every hair on my arm stood up.

My aunt looked toward the door, frowning. "Who could that be?"

I knew.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My body went rigid, my mind screaming even before the knock came.

Three slow, heavy knocks.

Each one reverberated through the house, deep and deliberate.

My aunt stood, adjusting her glasses. "Reina, are you expecting someone?"

I tried to answer, but no sound came out.

Another knock. Harder.

"Maybe it’s Paolo," she said, already heading toward the door.

"Auntie, wait—" I stammered, jumping up. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe. "Don’t—please—"

Too late.

The door creaked open.

And there he was.

Domenico.

Tall. Imposing. Dangerous.

His presence devoured the doorway like a shadow come to life. The soft light from the living room slid over his broad shoulders and caught the sharp line of his jaw, glinting in his dark, unreadable eyes. Every inch of him screamed control—cold, contained fury wrapped in an expensive suit.

The air shifted the moment he stepped in. Heavy. Electric.

My aunt froze mid-greeting, her hand halfway to her chest. "Oh—Mr. Gravano?" she stammered, polite but clearly unsettled.

She’d never liked him. Never said it outright, but I’d always noticed the stiffness in her voice whenever his name came up, the way her smile faltered just a little too quickly.

Domenico didn’t even acknowledge her. His gaze found me immediately— sharp, unrelenting —and the world around us blurred until it was just him and me.

"Reina."

My name on his tongue was a command, low and rough, sliding through the room like a growl that left no space for disobedience.

My pulse spiked. My throat went dry. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

He took a single step forward, and it felt like the walls themselves held their breath.

"Let’s go home, princess," he said.

The words weren’t a suggestion. They were an order, calm, absolute, and terrifyingly intimate.

And despite every thought screaming otherwise, my body obeyed before my mind could catch up.