Page 155 of Broken Mafia Prince
“I loved your mother, with everything inside me. If you loved her even a tenth of how I did, you wouldn’t go anywhere near that bastard, and you’d loathe him as much as I do.”
“He had nothing to do with it,” I retort. “The Gagliardis are just as much victims in this as we are. Why can’t you see that?”
“They worked with the Echelon Syndicate to take her from us,” he argues. “That day at the cliff, I saw the Syndicate’s symbol on the truck driver who ran us off the road.”
My eyebrows fly up in surprise. The memory from that day is a bit foggy, but I can clearly remember Papa chasing after that man. I’ve resented him for choosing vengeance over saving Mother and Val, and I’ve found myself more than once asking if they’d be here with us today if he had chosen them.
But it still doesn’t explain why he’s going after Raffaele’s family.
He cuts me off before I can voice my question. “And after we found the bastard’s body—or what was left of it—he was wearing the Gagliardi signet ring. How’s that for a coincidence? The Syndicate has been in bed with the Gagliardis for years. They teamed up to destroy me, to take my family from me. And now they’re at it again, trying to destroy my shipment. Don’t you see? It’s as clear as day.”
I shake my head, frustration bubbling up. “The only thing that’s clear is that you’re delusional. That ring could have been planted by the Syndicate to stir up conflict between us. They’ve done it before.”
One of his eyebrows arch up. “I am? Then explain why we’re the only ones getting attacked by the Syndicate. Explain why your beloved boy toy isn’t running around trying to put out fires the Syndicate has set. Newsflash: There are no fires. You think it’s a coincidence that they’ve been coming after us over and over?”
“Jesus Christ, Dad,” I finally snarl. “For one second of your life, think about something that isn’t this revenge, your vendetta. You think Raffaele’s family ruined your life, but you’re wrong. Do you know what did?”
He leans back in his chair, eyes as hard as concrete. “Do tell.”
“You,” I tell him. “You refused to move on and have a life after what happened. It was a tragedy, you loved Mama, boo-fucking-hoo. I lost her too, and I guess you’ve forgotten that you had a daughter, but I haven’t!”
I pant, trying to stave off the tears. “I lost the other half of my soul when Val died, and I haven’t felt complete since. And what did you do? You abandoned your kid for revenge, and then, when it was convenient for you, you picked me back up, tried to dust me up, and toss me at the first man who could aid your fucked-up vengeance.”
“You know nothing.” His voice is so cold, the best word for it is glacial.
I scoff. “You think so, but neither do you.”
I might be standing five feet away from him, but we could be standing miles away, a gaping chasm dividing us. No matter the words I use, the tears I shed, no matter how much I beg and plead, cut myself open and bleed over him, he will never see or hear me. I’m as invisible to him as a puff of air.
As soon as that fact settles in my psyche, I feel a weight lift off me, relief from an ache I never knew I’d been living with spreading through me. A smile curves my mouth.
“That Gagliardi boy is using you, and you’re so dumb that you can’t see what’s right in?—”
I walk away, the smile still on my face. I don’t stop walking when he roars at me to get back, I don’t stop when he calls me a shame to the family. I don’t stop until I’m curled up on the floor in my closet, hugging Raffaele’s shirt in my arms like it’s an embodiment of him.
51
RAFFAELE
Iwrap the bandage around my fist and pull on the boxing gloves, securing them tightly in place. From the corner of my eye, I can see my opponent doing the same. I raise a curious brow when Tommaso suddenly steps into the room and taps my sparring partner out, taking his place.
“Itching to have your face caved in?” I ask.
He snorts. “I’d love to see you try.”
To be fair, my right-hand man is the only one who’s truly been close to being competition for me. I spar with the men to keep fit and relieve stress, but I also have to pull my punches, or I’d end up landing them in the emergency room. Cracking my neck, a big smile curves my mouth.
“Don’t hold back.”
He rolls his eyes. “Do I ever?”
We circle each other like predators readying for a fight, carefully taking in each other’s stances. Tommaso lashes out first, fists flying lightning fast. Unfortunately for him, I’m faster. I dodge the blow, bending to catch him in the stomach.
He shifts at the last moment, the blow glancing off his side.
His narrowed eyes meet mine, and I grin at him. “You’ll need to do a whole lot better than that. Try rotating your hips a little more.”
“I’m not taking advice from someone who can’t even decide which side he’s on.” He comes for me again, and this time I’m ready, my fists fly, knocking him on the under of his jaw.
