Page 74 of Broken Mafia Bride
She exhales slowly. “My mother never talked about her past, and I was too young to wonder why. Later, I found a letter that made it sound like she loved it here more than anything… and that leaving meant giving up everything she cared about—for my father.”
A moment of silence settles between us.
“I wish I’d known her better. I wish…” She trails off. “You know, my father only ever talks about the day Mama died. Sometimes it makes me forget we lost more than just her. Valwas the other half of my soul. I know people like to throw around sentimental nonsense about twin bonds, but we actually had it. Do you think that’s crazy?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I could feel her,” she says quietly. “Not in some telepathic or magical way—it was more like… being on a call with someone you love. They don’t have to say a word. Just knowing they’re on the line is enough.”
She lets out a soft breath. “Mama always used to complain about how Val was such a light sleeper. It affected me too—the moment she stirred, I’d wake up. It was like we were wired together.”
Her voice cracks. “Now imagine that call suddenly dropping. No warning. Just silence. You keep redialing—again and again—but it never connects.”
Giulia looks at me. “And my father acts like she never existed. He mourns Mama, but it’s like Val never mattered. Like we didn’t lose my twin that day too. And I hate him a little for that.”
“You don’t talk about her.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t even remember what she looked like, Raffaele. We were fraternal, so we didn’t look alike. And every picture we had—Papa got rid of them when we moved. We were so young… Sometimes it feels like she was never real. Like I imagined her.”
Her voice trembles, and I can hear the tears rising in it. My chest tightens.
“My mother would have loved it here,” I say quietly.
Giulia turns sharply, eyes wide. I know that look. I never talk about my mother. She’s the unspoken ache in my life, the wound I pretend has healed over.
But the truth is—I still miss her every single day. A part of me is still that small, wounded boy who just wanted to sit with her, play chess, and dream about a better life.
“Really?”
I nod, gazing out over the hills. “She always loved flowers. Gardens. The kind of place with sea views and rolling landscapes. Beauty and quiet.”
“Did she ever get to have that?” Giulia asks.
“Just for a while,” I say. “I like to think that wherever she is now, she’s surrounded by beautiful trees and colorful gardens. And a dog—she always wanted one.”
“What happened to Marty?” Giulia asks.
“He’s with Alessia. It was better that way. I haven’t been in the right headspace to care for him, and honestly… he reminded me too much of you.” I offer her a faint smile. “Alessia was happy to take him. He’s grown attached to her. I wonder if he’ll ever want to come back to me.”
“That dog adores you.”
I raise a brow. “You’ve got it backwards. He tolerated me at best. It was you he adored.” I pause, then add softly, “And he’ll love Noemi too.”
She lets out a dry chuckle. “You make it sound like the four of us are going to be one big, happy family.”
“The only thing stopping us is you,” I say. “I’m all in, Giulia.”
She looks at me—not with softness, but with something harder.
“You’re all in now. But are you ready for me not to be?”
Her voice is steady this time. “You think love makes this easy. It doesn’t. It just makes it harder—harder to stay, and harder to walk away.”
She turns from me with a sigh. “You know it’s impossible.”
“Why?” I ask again. It feels like I’ve been asking that same question since I set foot in Casa Bianca. Now that the truth is out and we have a child together, what’s still holding us back?
“What about Isabella? You can’t just toss her aside. I think she has feelings for you, Raffaele.”
