Page 136 of Broken Mafia Prince
The weight of my bloodline settles on me like a noose.
“Are you all right?”Giulia asks.
It’s been a few hours since the disturbing meeting with my father, but every heated word we exchanged still echoes in my head. Giulia’s arrival has distracted me a little bit from the chaos in my head, but it has to be clear to her that I’m not entirely present. I haven’t heard a word she’s said in the last few minutes.
I blink down at her, noting the concern on her face. I know she’s worried about everything that’s happened so far, and even though she’s said yes to marrying me and starting over far from here with me, I know she’s terrified, too.
“I’m fine.” I gather her to me and brush my lips against hers in a feather-light kiss. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but I can see that it’s strained. I sigh and lift her into my arms, carrying her up the stairs and into my bed, where I join her, wrapping her in my arms.
She smiles. “What’s this?”
“What does it look like?” I push a strand of her hair behind her ears.
“It looks like you’re trying to distract me from asking you questions about whatever is bothering you.” She crawls up my body until she’s staring me right in the eyes. “Raffaele, beingtogether means you have to talk to me about things. Partners, remember?”
I’ve told her about the incoming attack on her family, but for some reason, I hesitate to tell her the new details I’ve just discovered. Being around her feels like being in an airy bubble of our own making where nothing bad can get in, and I’d like to keep it that way.
Giulia presses her mouth to mine, and I kiss her back, drinking her down eagerly. One of my hands cups her rounded ass, and I give it a good squeeze. She retaliates by biting down on my bottom lip.
“I can’t wait until it’s just you and me,” she whispers. “Am I a bad daughter because I haven’t even thought of staying for Papa?”
“No,” I tell her sternly. “You’ve sacrificed so much for him, Giulia. All he’s done is take and take from you. You’re choosing yourself for the first time after years of choosing everybody else.”
“I’m choosing you.” Her smile splits her face, eyes shining down at me.
Guilt lurches in my belly at the sight of that smile. Am I trying to maintain a beautiful illusion here? Is hiding the shipment plans from her the best move? Will she decide to stay if she realizes how much danger she’s in?
I have to find a way to fix this. I need to stop my father and end this war before it’s even started. No matter how much Giulia claims to want me and a new life away from this one, I’m not delusional enough to think that she won’t choose to stay and fight for her family over leaving it all to crash and burn in her rearview mirror. She’s far too honorable to leave her father to the mercy of mine.
Another thing I know for a fact is that if my father succeeds, I’ll lose Giulia.
I’m being buried under the weight of decision, and somehow, it feels like no matter which way I choose to go, I’ll still end up losing.
Later, long after the sweat has cooled on our bodies and she’s passed out from multiple orgasms, I finally whisper into her ear, “I’m choosing you, too.”
44
GIULIA
“Giulia, come in, sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”
I glance from my father’s relaxed expression to the dinner setting.
What the hell is going on, and why does it feel like an obvious trap? The text I got from Father this morning, telling me to come home for an important conversation, is already suspicious enough. Walking into a lunch setting is pinging all my warning bells, and I hesitate.
“What’s going on?” I ask. I can’t remember the last time we sat down together to have a meal. I spent so much of my youth begging him to join me at the table, to be a family with me again. It’s a little too late for us to be one small, happy family.
“What does it look like?” He spreads his hand out in a gesture that encompasses the room. “I’m about to have lunch with my daughter.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously, what the hell is going on? And don’t give me this lunch bullshit. We both know I’m not here because of food and wine.”
His mouth quirks up at the corners, and it only raises my suspicion.
“Well?” I ask.
“Sit down.” This time around, there’s an unmistakable order in his voice, and I obey instinctively. Just as soon as I’m seated, a door to the side opens, and uniformed servants walk in carrying platters of food and an expensive bottle of wine.
