Page 155 of Broken Mafia Bride
I’ve been pushing Raff to make peace with his father, but maybe some things are better off left alone.
I sigh, about to turn and walk away, when Edoardo speaks again.
“I ‘fucked you up,’ as you say, because I didn’t know any better.”
“What are you talking about?” Raffaele asks.
“You’re my son, and the world is cruel to weak men,” he explains. “Not only were you weak, but you had a big heart. Then you got scarred, and it shattered even more of your confidence. Your mother was going about it the wrong way—trying to keep you as her baby forever. But you couldn’t stay a baby forever; you had to grow up at some point.”
There’s a pause. “You’d have been chewed alive and spat out, Raffaele. Don’t you see? The fact that you were my son had already put expectations on you too early. There was a legacy to maintain. If you had failed?—”
“So you treated me like death to maintain your legacy?” His voice is full of anger now. “Can’t you see how fucked up that is? I don’t want you here. Get lost.”
I hear the sound of footsteps, indicating that Raffaele is walking away. I shift deeper into the shadowy alcove created by the pillar.
“Your mother would be proud of you,” the older man says again, suddenly sounding exhausted.
My husband is in my line of vision now, and he spins around, eyes narrowed into the distance. “Don’t bring her into this. You didn’t even know her. She never wanted to be with you, she never wanted any of this. You tortured her emotionally for years, eventually killing her.”
“She loved me.”
“She could never have loved a bastard like you.”
“Do you think she’d have stayed if she didn’t? Do you think any of what I did would have hurt her if she didn’t?” he spits.
“She stayed because of me! So maybe I’m just as much to blame as you are for keeping her there,” Raffaele roars. “If I knew then what I know now, I’d have begged her to go. I’d have pretended to be happy with you so she wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving.”
He advances on his father. “I never understood how you could be so horrible. All my life, I never knew what I had done that was so bad for you to treat me like you despised me, like I never measured up and never could, no matter how hard I tried. It makes even less sense now, especially because when I look at Noemi. I don’t see her mistakes or shortcomings. I see the most precious gift on earth. I want to protect her, provide for her, love her for the rest of my life. That’s how every parent should feel about their child. So tell me—what was so goddamn unlovable about me?!”
Tears stream down my face at the raw desperation in his voice. I’ve always known that Raffaele’s home life was just as bad as mine, but it’s never been so clear—until now—just how deeply messed up he’s been.
I can’t believe I ever doubted he’d be a good father—how could he not be, when he’s so determined to be everything his own father wasn’t?
“I’m proud of you,” Edoardo says.
A choking sound slips out of Raffaele’s throat, and I cover my mouth with my hand to hide the sob that bubbles out of me.
“Because this entire city now fears and respects me? Because I’ve buried Re Ombra’s legacy to the ground, and they now call me the Shadow Killer?” Raffaele snorts. “You’re several years too late.”
“You’re mistaken,” he clarifies. “I’m not proud of you because of what you’ve achieved. I’m proud of you because you didn’t become anotherme. I’m proud of you for breaking away from the mold of what the Gagliardis have always been.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m proud to call you my son.”
He lets out a humorless bark of laughter. “You manipulative bastard.”
“I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to have a daughter,” he continues. “Perhaps if you’d been a daughter, things would have been different.”
“I doubt that.”
“Maybe one day you’ll let me have a relationship with my granddaughter.”
There’s a pause, and I still, waiting to hear his response. “Maybe.”
And then Raffaele turns and walks away, past my hiding spot and back to the front of the house, where the wedding reception party is still actively happening. Composing myself, I turn to slip back to the party, but Edoardo’s voice causes me to freeze in my tracks.
“Take care of him for his mother, Giulia.”
