Page 53 of Broken Mafia Bride
“You have no idea,” I mutter, rubbing my temples. “What do you have for me?”
He hesitates—just for a second. “I think I know where she is,” Matteo says quietly.
My heart slams so hard against my ribs it feels like a warning shot.
“Who?” I ask, but I already know. God, I already fucking know. I just don’t let myself believe it.
He meets my eyes, and it’s all there—certainty, tension, something guarded.
“Giulia Montanari,” he says. “I think I’ve found her.”
The words hit like a punch to the sternum. I’m on my feet before I know I’ve moved, every nerve ending in my body lighting up like a flare.
“Where?” My voice comes out ragged, almost desperate. Tell me everything, now.”
“Two days ago, I saw someone who looks like her while going through airport footage to monitor one of the men transporting our drugs,” he informs me. “I tried to follow her digital footprints, but there were almost none. I hit bingo when I looked into the man she was with instead.”
I go still. “Who’s the man?”
He winces. “You’re not going to like this, Raffaele.”
Something is withering in my chest, and my nails are digging into my palms. “Spit it out.”
My best friend sighs and drags a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. “There’s a small fishing village where the two have been living this whole time,” he pauses. “With a kid.”
Everything inside me shuts down at his last word.
A kid?
“What do you mean by a kid?” I ask slowly. I just want him to tell me that he’s mistaken, that none of it is true. There’s no way that Giulia actually ran off to have a life that doesn’t include me while I’ve spent the past four years searching for her relentlessly.
“I’m sorry, Raffaele.” He slides a piece of paper across the table. “This is one of those things that I think you just have to see for yourself.”
On the paper is a location and coordinates. “She’s in Sardegna?” I ask, surprised, refusing to even acknowledge the part about Giulia having a whole new family.
Matteo has never given me false information before—but there’s a first time for everything.
And what if it’s true?a voice asks in my head.What if she saw her opportunity to leave this fucked-up world, and she grabbed it with both hands?
Matteo points to the coordinates on the paper. “That’s the man’s house in Sardegna. I don’t have enough sources out there to keep a close eye on things—but that’s definitely Marco’s place.”
“Marco,” I taste the name on my tongue, unsurprised when it comes out tasting sour. I hate the bastard already.
“How soon can you get me to Sardegna?” I ask him.
“I can get you on a small private plane going to the island in an hour’s time,” he informs me. “But if you have to sort things out here, then there’ll be another plane in two days’ time and?—
“I’ll take the one leaving in an hour.”
“Are you going to tell your father where you’re going?” He raises an eyebrow.
“It’s none of his business.”
“And Isabella?”
I give him a look, my voice coming out more defensive than normal. “What about her?”
He raises his palms in surrender. “Nothing.”
