Page 107 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Giulia.”
I hear her breath hitch over the phone. It makes me feel like I’m on top of the world to hear her so affected by me. Far higher than my penthouse apartment that offers a view of this city to me like a tribute.
“How did you get my number?”
The question takes me back to the first time I ever called her. Back then, she had snapped the question at me, annoyed. Now, she just sounds defeated, and I hate it. I hate everything that’s managed to take away her fire, and I swear to myself that I’ll bring back that fire.
“Do you really want to know?” I ask her.
“You shouldn’t be calling me.” Her words lack certainty.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” I say instead of addressing her statement. “It’s important.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about.”
“I don’t care that you walked away from me, from us, from everything. Keeping you safe is still my priority.”
“It shouldn’t have to be. Raffaele, please?—”
“We need to meet up and talk,” I cut in before she can slice my heart into ribbons. I don’t know if I can listen to her beg me to let her go. I’ll give her anything, but I’m not sure I can give that. I don’t know if I want to ever give that.
“I’m getting married,” she sighs.
I wonder if she knows about the marriage contract that is basically selling her like meat at the butcher shop. If she doesn’t, I need to tell her, and if she does, why the hell is she still going along with this? The only reason I can think of for her to still be with Alessandro while knowing about the trade is that she’s in love with him.
Everything inside of me recoils from that thought.
No fucking way.
“My father is planning to take yours out,” I tell her.
She sucks in a horrified breath. “What?”
I don’t mean to be heartless, but the reaction to her father is unexpected. How she still cares about him after everything is a mystery to me. But then again, blood is thicker than water.
“We need to meet up,” I reiterate.
“We can’t. You know that we can’t. I’m getting married and?—”
“We both know that marriage will be nothing but a lie.”
“You don’t know that,” she spits, some of that familiar fire in her voice.
“Do you love him?” The question comes out before I can stop it, and I still, waiting for her response.
“That’s none of your business, Raffaele. It’s been two years. I’ve moved on, and I’m sure you have, too. Would it be fair of me to ask how many women you’ve left broken-hearted since I’ve been gone?”
“Is that a question?” I taunt. “Because, unlike you, I’ll respond with a hundred percent honesty.”
“You know what, I’m hanging up. Go to hell.”
“I want to see you. Tell me you don’t want to see me. Say it, Giulia.”
“Don’t do this,” she croaks, a desperate sound that makes my heart thrum in my chest. “Why couldn’t you just let this lie? Youhave no right to dig up the rotten corpse of what we were, now of all times.”
“Rotten?” My mouth twitches. “Come now, Giulia, we both know this never died in the first place. But I’m not calling you about us. I’m calling you about the danger that’s headed your way. We have to talk.”
She hesitates. “I don’t have to do anything.”
