Page 105 of Broken Mafia Prince
I uprooted my whole life and anything that could have been with the man I loved, all for my father’s safety. I’ve been living with a bleeding heart for two years for a man who’s been hunting for the highest bidder to cart me off to.
A small hysterical laugh slips out of my throat.
“This arrangement would give us all what we want,” my fiancé continues. “Stop being so stubborn and petulant, and you’ll recognize that this makes the most sense.”
“Get your freaking hands off me,” I growl.
Raffaele was going to offer me the world on a platter of gold, with the heads of all my enemies, and he was going to give me paradise. I said no and chose my father. At what point in my life will I learn to finally stop choosing wrong?
Another chilling thought moves through my head. What if everything I’ve ever known about the accident that took my family has been a lie? I still remember that Father was more focused on killing the driver than checking to see if his own family was safe. Could it be that he’d been after the driver because he knew the man? Could that whole day just be an effect of Father’s greed and association with evil men?
After all, if he could lie about this engagement, what else has he lied about?
“Don’t think too much about it, doll,” he eventually says, releasing me. There’s a hard glint in his eyes that warns me that I shouldn’t do anything stupid to mess with the plan. “It’s just the way of things.”
I wait for him to leave the room before I can finally unclench my trembling legs. My knees give out under me, and I drop to the floor, breathing hard. I press a palm to my stomach, trying to stop the awful rolling, but it persists.
That feeling of being without an anchor and left to float around without a destination on open waters hits me now. It’s been over a decade since I felt this way, and I stupidly thought I’d never feel like this again. Betrayal tastes like ash in my mouth and stings my skin.
I’ve been lied to by the two people from this new life that I thought were in my corner. Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I hurriedly blink them back. This isn’t a time to cry. This is a timeto strategize and find a way to escape the plan where I end up as Alessandro’s wife.
But how?
It feels like my world has been turned on its head, and I no longer know how to make sense of it. Exhaustion makes my limbs feel twice their weight. Who can I trust? Who can help? Who can get me out of this mess?
There’s no one. The only person I have is myself.
I ignore the voices chanting Raffaele’s name in my head. I tell myself that I’m not that desperate, that he’s not even an option, but I can’t deny the burning urge to burrow into his arms and let him fix this.
Fix everything like he once promised.
35
RAFFAELE
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entirety of my penthouse apartment, Chicago lies beneath me in a blur of lights and colors. This city has always felt like mine. Even back when I didn’t understand the pull of it. Chicago is in my blood just as much as being a made man is.
I don’t think I can ever walk away from any of it.
The fact that I was willing to abandon it in the blink of an eye for Giulia was the first sign that she had me wrapped around her little finger, my entire body, heart, and soul. I meet my eyes in the reflection on the glass. Isa may have been right about Giulia being a different person, but so am I. I’m now a carbon copy of my father, right down to his impenetrable, icy blue gaze.
If she sees me now, will she recoil from the lifelessness in my eyes? Will she shudder in revulsion when she hears about all the horrible things I’ve done? The rumors about my ruthlessness are not exaggerated. I’m exactly what they say I am.
Is she relieved that she walked away before I could become this? The thought makes me want to smash my fist into the glass and not stop until my chest doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.
I’m saved from wrecking my hands by the sound of my phone ringing. I turn away from the glass and cross the open floor living room to where my phone is on a side table. I stare at the caller ID with confusion before picking up the call.
“Renzo, talk to me,” I say.
“One of these days, I’ll get you to say hello and make idle conversation,” he chuckles. Renzo is my second cousin and one of the best snipers I’ve ever met. He did a stint in the military where he acquired terrifying scars, his shooting skills, and a disdain for the government.
He’s one of the craziest fuckers I’ve ever met, jumping into things headfirst without any care for his life. I don’t know if it’s extreme bravado or suicidal tendencies. We aren’t particularly close, but he’s one of the loyal ones. And by that, I mean loyal to me and not my father.
“Spit it out.” My voice is full of impatience, and he huffs.
“Your father is planning an attack against the Montanaris.”
Fuck. He must still be keeping tabs on Isabella and traced her recent call to her cousin. Now he probably knows their new location.
