Page 150 of Broken Mafia Bride
Both of their heads snap over to me, and a happy giggle slips out of my mouth. Noemi smiles back at me, holding out her hand. “Mama!”
“Hey, angel.” I kneel and gather her into my arms, pressing kisses all over her face and breathing in her clean scent.
She peeks over my shoulder. “He has blue eyes like me.”
I turn to see Raffaele staring at her in dumbstruck awe. I have to bite back my laugh when he starts stammering.
“Y-yeah,” he says. “I d-do, don’t I? And I used to have super curly hair like yours when I was a k-kid too.”
“Did yours get tangled too?” she asks.
He nods. “And my mom had to brush it out, and it used to give me a horrible headache.”
Gasping, Noemi turns to me, eyes wide with surprise at the shared experience. I laugh at the look in her eyes. Then she turnsback to Raffaele. “I’m Noemi and I am almost four. What’s your name?”
“I’m Raffaele, and I’m a lot older than four.” He steps closer, and to my surprise, my daughter holds out her hand to him.
I nod in permission when he looks at me questioningly. My heart feels too full, like it’s fighting to make room for everything—hope, relief, grief, love. All twisted together until I can’t separate them anymore. I watch Raffaele crouch down beside Noemi, his voice low and soothing as he shows her how to aim a toy slingshot that Matteo brought her.
He talks to her like she’s capable of anything, like he sees her for who she really is. He’s so patient and careful with her, speaking to her like she’s an adult, which I know she appreciates because she doesn’t like to be babied.
It makes my throat ache, seeing them like this. Seeinghimlike this. His eyes have softened in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Maybe he’s not so bad after all,” Marco whispers from behind me.
I roll my eyes at him, but the smile is stubborn. “Don’t start.”
He grins and nudges me with his shoulder. “You’ve been through hell together. Give yourself permission to breathe a little.”
“I’m trying,” I admit. And I am. But the weight of everything isn’t so easy to shrug off.
Valentina appears beside us with eyes rimmed red but shining. She’s been crying. She’s still crying. But her smile is the kind that reaches deep, that feels real. “So. What’s next for you?”
The question hangs between us, heavier than I expect. I look at Raffaele and Noemi—Noemi’s delighted shriek as Raffaele pretends to be struck by her tiny slingshot.
“I don’t know,” I confess. “I just think… I think I’m done running.”
Valentina’s eyes widen, then her smile splits open. “Good. Because I’m not letting you disappear again.” Her laugh turns watery, the kind that hits right in the chest. “I’ve never planned my life past Sardegna, you know. And now… I just found out I have a twin sister. I have a family.”
She swallows hard, her gaze fierce even through the tears. “You’re never getting rid of me, Giulia. Ever.”
I link my arm through hers, and my voice trembles when I say. “I’m counting on it.”
We stand there, leaning into each other, sharing the weight of this new reality. Of everything we’ve lost and gained.
“Raffaele.” Matteo’s voice cuts through the air. His expression is grim, and concern is etched into every line of his face. “You need to get to the hospital. Now. You’re still bleeding.”
Raffaele glances down, as if he hadn’t noticed. Blood seeps through the fabric at his side, spreading slowly. His lips twitch in a wry grin. “Just a scratch.”
“Like hell it is,” Matteo snaps. “You’re not dying on me, you reckless bastard. I’ll kill you myself if you do.”
Raffaele’s smile fades, replaced by something softer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Better not,” Matteo grumbles, but his eyes are glassy. “I’ve still got things to blackmail you with.”
Raffaele’s laugh is strained but real. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Valentina’s hand squeezes mine, her gaze flitting between us all like she’s still trying to make sense of it. To hold onto something before it slips away.
