Page 85 of Broken Mafia Bride
The sun is already starting to set, and soon, it’ll be dark. Trying to find my way home alone through the unfamiliar streets of Sardegna is a bad idea, so instead, I make my way over to a pile of scrap in the yard. Among the rusted metal and broken parts is a fridge with no door, and I sit on it.
It doesn’t take long for Marco to join me, settling beside me with a sigh.
“She doesn’t mean that,” he tells me.
“She does. And I don’t need you to lie to make me feel better. She meant every single word she said,” I bite out.
“She cares about you, and she’s worried you’ll get hurt in the middle of your cousin and Raffaele’s relationship.”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, breathing through the sting of knowing that the two of them share something—something that might one day turn into love. And where would that leave me?
“So it’s him,” Marco says softly, his voice tinged with hurt… and just a trace of bitterness. “It’s always been him, hasn’t it? He’s the reason I never stood a chance.”
I turn to face him. “That’s not true.”
“So you’re saying things between us could have changed?” He smiles sadly. “Who’s the liar now?”
“It’s not what you think,” I argue. “It’s?—”
His hand suddenly cups my face. I go still as he leans in, bracing myself for the kiss I know is coming. His mouth hovers just a breath away from mine when panic takes over—I flinch.
His mouth curves up into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I just saved myself a broken nose,” he says quietly. “But at what cost?”
Marco’s eyes shift over my shoulder, and I turn my head, following his gaze. My breath stutters in my chest when I catch sight of Raffaele heading toward us. And he doesn’t look happy at all.
I turn back to face Marco. “What are you playing at?”
His grin widens. “A little jealousy might actually help take that bastard’s massive ego down a notch.”
“Marco,” I warn.
He leans forward and brushes his mouth across my cheek. “I’ll be here if you need me, Ariel. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Ten years, twenty, I’ll be here. Let me know when that grouchy son of a bitch fucks this up, because I have no doubt he will.”
Before I can reply, Raffaele’s voice cuts in. “Say goodbye, Giulia. We’re leaving.”
26
RAFFAELE
Ican’t believe the bastard tried to kiss her. It seems I can’t look away from her for two seconds without him crawling back like a cockroach and trying to make a move.
I expect Giulia to argue with me; she’s never gone along with being ordered around, but to my surprise, no argument is forthcoming.
“Goodnight, Marco.” There’s something in her voice that makes panic come to life inside me. A certain intimacy in the words, born of a level of connection.
I tense, glancing between them with mounting suspicion. Is it possible she’s not telling me everything? I expect that sad puppy look in the fisherman’s eyes, but not in hers. A dull ache settles in my chest, and I swallow hard, forcing back the lump rising in my throat.
The fisherman flicks his gaze over to me. The glance barely lasts a second, but it’s enough to have me gritting my teeth in annoyance.
“Night, Ariel.”
That stupid nickname again. What the hell is it even supposed to mean? My jaw clenches even tighter until I can feela headache pulsing at the side of my head. If I clench any harder, I’m going to chip a tooth.
Finally, Marco buries his hands into his pockets and trudges back into his house. I spot the outline of a woman standing by the front door, arms wrapped around herself, and curiosity sparks for a moment. I start to ask Giulia if the fisherman has already replaced her, but I think better of it.
Things are far too tense between us for me to bring up something like that.
“Let’s go,” I say brusquely.
