Page 103 of Broken Mafia Prince
Desire rips through me like an explosion, knocking down all my foundations in one fell swoop. My back bows as I start to come, and I continue to move my hands, riding out my orgasm.
Finally, I spurt out the last drop, and my body relaxes into the mattress. Not even all the threesomes and kinky sex I’ve had since Giulia has made me come that hard. I sigh, dragging a hand over my face.
If it wasn’t evident before that she’s ruined me for any other woman, it’s more than apparent now.
34
GIULIA
“Can we make it a fall wedding?” someone asks. “That way, the relatives in Italy will be able to attend.”
Someone else snorts. “Nobody cares about the relatives in Italy.”
Another person adds that they’re important, and from there, the discussion escalates into yet another argument. I sigh and tap my freshly manicured nails against the arm of the chair, wondering at what point the men will let me, the bride to be, put in any word about my own goddamn wedding.
“Father Rick tried to sell my godson out to the FBI last year,” my future father-in-law spits. “We won’t be having the wedding at his chapel. He likes to act like he has direct access to god’s ear, but he was at The Vineyard the other day with a redhead.”
I don’t like Father Rick either, so I nod in agreement. My father catches my eye and shoots me a look. I only shrug, disinterested. I don’t know if I’m just uninterested in my own wedding, or if it’s because they won’t let me get a word in edgewise.
I glance over at Alessandro and find him frowning at whatever he’s doing on his phone. At that moment, one ofFather’s men approaches with his phone. Father excuses himself to take the call, and I desperately wish I could leave just as easily.
A sigh slips out of my mouth, and I adjust myself on the uncomfortable high-backed chair for the millionth time that afternoon. I tune out their conversation and turn my face to look out the window. Outside, a sea of green stretches as far as the eye can see. This house actually feels like home, unlike the old one.
Moving out of there and starting over—or at least trying to start over—is the best decision I’ve ever made. This isn’t exactly what I’d envisioned when I locked up our house and disappeared from Chicago. Except for the fact that we’re in a cozier house, far from the Syndicate’s watchful eyes and away from the Gagliardi rivalry, nothing much has changed.
How deluded I was to think that Father would settle into a regular man and forget all about the mafia.
“A honeymoon is a waste of time,” my father-in-law scoffs. “There’s much more for Alessandro to do here than?—”
I’m not sure how he means to finish that statement, and I’m not sure I want to find out. I leap to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the floorboards. All eyes fall on me, looking confused that I’m still in the room.
“Excuse me,” I say. “I need to go check up on my father.”
I slip away before any of them can respond, relieved to be far away from the discussion. Getting married to Alessandro is something that I thought about logically. I weighed the pros and cons and accepted it.
My fiancé is a good man, but I really thought I’d be done with this entire life. Silly, I know.
I move silently down the hallway to my father’s study to see what he’s up to. Ever since his near-death experience, I’ve found myself worrying about him more often. It was watching him lying limp and pale in that hospital bed that made me realizethat I didn’t want to lose him. Since then, I’ve been paranoid about letting him out of my sight for too long.
Being around him is still difficult, though, and we still butt heads. I stop at his study door and rap my knuckles against the door. When I don’t hear a response after a minute, my eyebrows draw into a worried frown, and I push the door open, stepping in.
There’s no sign of my father at all, and I’m about to walk right out when my eyes fall on his table. He’s usually anal about his work space, so it’s surprising to see his desk in such a disarray.
I move closer to tidy it up.
I pick up some of the documents and arrange them into one neat pile, too distracted to even read what’s written on any of them. I’m not all that interested in the usual drugs, guns, and money-washing trifecta anyway. Something catches my eye as I’m about to turn away from the desk.
Confusion washes over me as I stare at the document at the very top of the pile.
“What the hell?” I mutter as I grab it, my gaze flying through it.
Horror washes through me, my face draining of color the longer I read through the print. I slap a palm over my mouth to keep my gasp in. I step closer to the table, rifling through the pile I’ve just put on. Each one I pull out makes my stomach clench tighter.
I hear a sound outside the door. Without a second thought, I gather all the documents and rush out the door. I don’t dare take a single breath until I’m behind the locked doors of my room. I spread out the stolen documents on my bed. This time around, I take my time going through each one.
By the end of it, I can’t help but feel like invisible strings connect me to the hands of a master puppeteer. Does Alessandro know about this? Does he know that this entire marriage is justone big business deal? After everything Father told me about this marriage being a means to keep me safe, so he won’t have to worry so much about me, the truth is finally right before me.
I can’t believe I thought my father cared about me. I let myself trust him. I convinced myself that the love we’ve grown over this time was real, that he wouldn’t sell me off like some pawn anymore. But here I am again—he’s done it again. Sold me, just like before, all for his gain.
