Page 144 of Broken Mafia Prince
A part of me has always known that the only hope for us is to elope, but Papa’s harsh words now bring the realization home fully that there’s nothing left for us here. This isn’t a fairy tale where the power of our love will heal the rift between our families. This is real life, and the thirst for blood and revenge will always keep the families apart.
Our future lies somewhere where we can have a clean slate.
“He really said that?”Isa gapes at me as I recount the conversation with my father.
I nod, flopping back onto my bed with an exhausted sigh. A pounding headache has plagued me all day. It started from a small point at my temple and gradually spread until my entire skull feels like someone’s used it to play soccer. I’ve popped some pain relief, but none of it has worked.
I just want to crawl into my fiancé’s arms and forget about everything else but him for a few hours. Unfortunately, he’s been occupied all day. I’ve barely even heard from him, and even though it’s only been four hours since he called me, I miss him desperately.
“I can’t wait to marry Raffaele,” I tell her quietly.
She stretches out beside me on the bed. “I hate to bring it up again, but are you sure about this? You can have a new life that doesn’t involve him. You know that, right? Just you and me, doing whatever the hell we want and meeting normal people for a change. Maybe a college athlete with floppy golden-brown hair, kind brown eyes, and goofy golden-retriever energy.”
I giggle, thinking about what that life would look like.
“Maybe,” I finally say. “Maybe if I’d never met him, I could have considered a life like that.”
But he’s changed everything. How can I ever settle for normal when I can have everything instead? It’s like choosing to eat raw flour when you’ve had cake.
And not just any kind of cake, but the most delicious, exquisite chocolate cake.
“You do know he’ll bring danger right to you?” She raises an eyebrow. “If you think for one second that your new life will be all flowers and roses, then you’d better think again. The danger isn’t Chicago; it’s men like him in it, and no matter how far you two run, it’ll forever cling to him.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “He loves me. He’ll never let anything happen to me.”
“I still can’t believe you casually mention Raffaele and love in the same sentence. How crazy.” She sounds incredulous.
“He really does,” I reply.
“He probably fucked the entire population of this city when you were gone. How is that love? He didn’t even think to wait for you. I’m sorry, but that feels a little one-sided.”
“I don’t want to continue talking about this,” I snap, shooting her a hard look. I’m immediately apologetic when she flinches, looking chastised, but I press my mouth into a firm line to keep my apology locked in.
It’s high time I start standing up for Raffaele, too. “I don’t care what he’s done in the past. None of it matters. And maybe this makes me sound childish and naive, but it’s what’s ahead that matters. Our future together matters more than any of the bullshit from the past.”
My cousin watches me warily, and I offer her a small smile, clutching her hand firmly in mine. “I don’t mean this as a threat, but I want you to be part of my new life, and I don’t know how that will work if you’re still so suspicious of him.”
“I’m just looking out for you,” she argues.
“I know that,” I assure her. “Which is why you’re going to be at my wedding. I want you to be my maid of honor—what am I saying, it’s not like I have a line of bridesmaids.”
She stares at me wide-eyed. “R-really?”
“Of course. You’re my best friend, Isa. One of the most important people in my life. I want you at my wedding.”
“Oh. Thank you, Giulia.”
I laugh at how startled she seems by the whole thing. Did she really think I’d get married without her being involved in some way? As much as I love Raffaele, I can’t think of her not being there on such a momentous day.
“You’re welcome.” I grin at her.
“Have you decided what to wear?” She switches the topic. “Or a venue. And how do you two plan to do this? Are you thinking of getting married here and then disappearing right after?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. And about an outfit, I was thinking any regular dress.”
“No way! I’m not letting you wear anything but a big, beautiful dress.”
I stare up at the ceiling, smiling as she tells me all about the Vera Wang dress she saw a few days ago. I don’t care if the dress has intricate lace made by fairies; I don’t even care if I have to wear jeans and sneakers. What matters is that I’ll be saying “I do” to spending the rest of my life with a man I love.
