Page 5 of Broken Mafia Bride
“Shoot you first for being a pain in my ass,” I tell him. “Blow Edoardo’s kneecaps out next until he tells me what he’s done with her.”
“You think he’s behind this?”
“Who else could it be? And don’t tell the Echelon Syndicate. We both know he’s been working with them this whole time.” From the moment I found out they were in league, I should have actively started fighting against them. I wasted so much time trying to get over my loyalty to my family, and now it’s cost me her.
“What would he gain by getting rid of her? Think about it.”
“Two birds, one stone,” I point out. “Taking her is meant to destabilize the Montanaris and me. He is probably so pissed off with my interferences so far. I’m sure he’s planning another stronger attack on them now that they’re running around.”
“I think you’re getting this all mixed up.”
“Explain,” I growl impatiently.
“Your father might be a dickwad, but he’s not stupid enough to invite doom on himself by taking out a piece on the board like her. If your father was trying to pick Giulia out of the equation, I think he’d have held her hostage instead. That’s more of his style, don’t you think?”
I drag both my hands through my hair, tugging at the strands. Confusion, panic, hopelessness—they pump through me faster than I can hold on.
“And anyway, there can’t have been enough time for him to plan this, even if we are omitting the basic fact that if Edoardo wanted to take her, he wouldn’t have passed through enemy territory.”
I’m not thinking clearly, and every part of me feels raw, stripped bare and worn out. It’s like I’ve aged thirty years from the moment I watched Giulia fall over the edge.
“Now what?”
“I need a drink.”
Surprise and suspicion light up in his eyes. “A drink?”
“Boss, we’ve found something,” Tommaso announces.
When I turn to look at him, he’s holding a bloody garter in his hand. I take it from him carefully, gaze stuck on the delicate lace that has been dyed a light pink from the bloodstains on it.
“Our theory is that—” he hesitates, then draws himself up. “Our theory is that she landed on one of the rocks in the water, and the current carried her downstream. She either bled out, is now beyond the city limits, or someone was waiting down there to fish her out and take her away.”
“Who?” I ask.
“It’s just a working theory for now,” he clarifies. “We’re broadening our search for evidence of a third party.”
“Good.”
“B-but boss, the men have been at it for several hours. They need a break.”
“A break? Every moment we waste is a moment that she could get farther away!” I hiss. “Shoot anybody who makes a fuss about taking a break again.”
I fist the bloody garter, and press it to my nose, searching for any detectable scent of her and finding none. It’s undeniably hers, though.
I stagger away from the cliff, head spinning, mouth as dry as cotton balls. A drink won’t make me feel better. I don’t want to forget. I want the pain to slice me open and eat at me until there’s nothing left.
“You fool! Get out of the car, you’re going to kill yourself,” I hear someone roaring.
I blink back into the present, only just realizing that I’ve somehow found myself in my car, fingers around the steering wheel. How did I get here? I turn my head and see Matteo banging on the window, panic written all over his face.
Ignoring him, I step on the gas, the car shooting past him and away from the cliffside. I don’t know where I’m going, but I drive too fast, trying to escape my demons, forgetting they live in my head, and no matter how fast I go, they’ll be waiting for me at the finish line.
Everything is one big blur, lights and colors blending together. It isn’t long before I’m back in the city again, the highway and vast ocean disappearing behind me.
A part of me knows she’s gone, even if I don’t want to accept it, and may never accept it. I’ll spend the rest of my life emptying out the sea instead.
I blink, and the world becomes clear and solid again, just in time for me to see that I’m headed straight for a fountain. I swerve the car fast, the wheels spinning out of control for a moment. I barrel into a row of perfectly trimmed shrubbery, leveling it all to the ground. Stepping down on the brake with all my strength, I pull the car to a screeching halt, half on the lawn and half on the cobbled pathway.
