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Left for a Stuffed Animal Novel Cover

Left for a Stuffed Animal

Sal Barzini, the ruthless Consigliere who loathes weakness, has developed a disturbing obsession with a mangy, one-eyed teddy bear. While he finds comfort in the toy, his wife is left neglected and freezing in their marital bed. During their son Luca’s first-year baptism, she shocks their inner circle by demanding a divorce. Despite Sal’s violent outburst and insults, she stands firm, choosing to walk away from her husband and his mysterious obsession.
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Chapter 3

I planned to crash at a safe house, but my access to the Family accounts had been cut off.

Only then did I realize that over the past year, the financial keys had quietly slipped back to the Barzinis. Even the numbered account I'd held for twenty years—the one my parents left me—had been transferred into Sal’s name.

I looked like I lived in a warm, loving home. In truth, I was completely alone.

I spent one night at Marco's apartment. The next morning, I went to the Family headquarters to collect my things.

The moment I stepped into the lobby, the soldiers started their whispers.

"Gold-digging bitch. Living in paradise and she wants out? Dumber than a pig."

"The Consigliere just likes sleeping with a stuffed toy. So what? I like teddy bears too!"

"Probably tired of him gaining weight, eyeing fresh meat. Bet she's got seven or eight lovers on the side."

They looked at me like I was a convicted killer on death row—judgmental, disgusted, waiting for me to hang.

I didn't get a chance to answer.

Sal’s voice cut in from behind me: "Shut your mouths. Who gave you permission to talk? Get back to work."

The men scattered, grumbling.

"Cara." He stepped closer, voice soft, artificial. "I got you something. Put it on."

He pulled a watch from his coat pocket. The lobby gasped.

"Patek Philippe limited edition. Only three made in the world, snatched up by anonymous collectors."

"The Consigliere must have moved heaven and earth to get this. So thoughtful."

Everyone stared with envy.

I stayed ice-cold. "I'm here to collect my mother's amulet. Save the watch for the teddy bear."

Silence.

He froze.

The soldiers erupted, cursing me—ungrateful, heartless, a waste of air.

I ignored them and headed for the elevator.

When my parents died, they left me nothing but a clear quartz pendant. Said it warded off evil spirits. I'd worn it around my neck my whole life.

A few months back, Sal complained his office felt cold. Strange noises at night. Shadows moving in the corners.

So I took off the pendant and hung it on his wall. After that, the weird sounds stopped.

Now he didn't deserve its protection.

I walked into his office. Gigi was there, bouncing Luca on her knee.

"Mrs. Barzini," she cooed, "you're finally back. A good life is better than anything. Look at your son. So precious. How could you abandon him?"

She stood up and walked toward me, holding the baby out like a shield.

"Move," I said, revulsion crawling up my throat.

"Mrs. Barzini." She widened her eyes, playing shocked. "This is your flesh and blood. You won't even look at him?"

"Get out of my way!"

I shoved her—harder than I meant to, but she was blocking the wall where the pendant hung.

I heard the crash before I turned around.

Gigi was on the floor. Luca was wailing, lying beside her.

Perfect timing. Sal walked in with two capos right behind him.

He rushed to the baby, checking every limb with trembling hands. Only when he found no bruises did he let out a long breath.

"What the hell happened?"

His eyes darted between me and Gigi.

Gigi kept her head down, voice trembling, delicate as glass. "I wanted her to see the baby… but she pushed me away. It's my fault. If I'd just stood firmer, I wouldn't have fallen."

What?

Sal turned to me. His hand flew so fast I didn't see it coming.

Slap.

My head snapped sideways, cheek burning like fire.

"You've become that cold?" he roared, spit flying. "That's your own son! He's one year old—what if you'd broken his skull?"

I touched my burning cheek and looked him dead in the eye. "If he'd died, you'd be celebrating. Finally, a tragedy you could actually blame on me."

Dead silence.

His face twisted. He started shaking, tears spilling out—whether from rage or grief, I couldn't tell.

Gigi pointed at me, shrieking, "How can you say that? Wishing death on your own baby? You're beyond saving!"

"Enough," he choked out, wiping his face. He looked at me like I was rotting meat. "I'm done with you. Get out. I'll raise Luca alone. We're taking this before the Don!"

The last words tore out of him, raw and savage.

I said nothing. I turned and walked out, the pendant clutched so tight in my fist it drew blood.

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