Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 62

**Stars Refuse To Blink by Asa River Knox**
**Not A Lucky Guess**

**Matteo’s POV**

“A lucky guess.” What on earth could that possibly imply? She tosses the phrase into the air, so casually, as if it were nothing more than a light-hearted comment. Yet, beneath the surface lies a chilling truth—something so unsettling that it should never escape the lips of a child, especially not one as young as twelve. Her head droops low, the weight of untold stories pressing down on her small frame like an invisible shroud. Her shoulders hunch inward, creating an impression of fragility that tugs at my heart. Her fingers are knotted together tightly in her lap, knuckles pale as if bracing for an impending storm, anticipating a reprimand from me. It’s as if she has been conditioned to brace herself for my anger, my disappointment—a reaction she seems to expect from adults.

The thought ignites a fire in my chest, causing my jaw to tighten involuntarily.

Once I see her like this, it’s an image I cannot unsee.

I watch her flinch at the faintest sound, her body instinctively shrinking away, as if she wishes to melt into the background. She reminds me of a ghost, lingering at a gathering where she was never meant to be, a shadow slipping through the cracks of our lives, unnoticed yet ever-present, haunting us with her silent suffering.

And here she sits, right in front of me—a mere whisper, a flicker of life—offering insights that feel far too burdensome for someone of her tender age. Wisdom that should be light and carefree has been forged in the fires of unimaginable pain. She’s just twelve. Just twelve. What kind of life strips away a child’s innocence, replacing it with such profound understanding? I run a hand down my face, feeling the roughness of my stubble, and turn my gaze away, unable to bear the weight of her eyes.

I know I should say something. Anything. I should ask her what she meant by that comment, who could have inflicted such deep wounds on her spirit, and why she carries this heavy load. I should demand answers, even if I feel unworthy to pry into her troubled past.

But the words remain lodged in my throat, refusing to take flight.

Suddenly, a gripping fear envelops me—the fear of what I might learn, the truths that could unravel before me. Even more terrifying is the prospect of the emotions those truths might awaken within my own heart. So I choose silence.

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