Page 159 of Broken Mafia Prince
“What do you care?” he spits. “It’s not like you care at all whether this family thrives or perishes.”
“Of course I care,” I reply incredulously. “This is my family and I care about?—”
“The only thing you care about is that boy,” he cuts in. “You’re a traitor to this family, a disappointment. I gave you everything. What did you lack? Not money, not vacations, nothing. And still, you stabbed me in the back in this shameful way. I’ve seen the pity in the men’s eyes; even though they don’t say it, I know exactly what they’re thinking. How do you expect me to live with this disappointment?”
I smirk at him. “It sounds to me like you’re getting a taste of your own medicine, and you can’t take it.”
“Excuse me?” He blinks, confusion written all over his face.
“For years, all you’ve done is disappoint me,” I tell him. “Do you really think the money is what I wanted? You think tossing millions at your child and putting her out of your mind is the perfect childhood? You’re such a bastard.”
“How dare you?” he roars. “You’re forgetting yourself.”
“How dare I?” I laugh, rising to my feet and leaning across the table to get up close to him. “You deserve everything that’shappening to you, Papa. You ruined Mama’s life, and now you’re trying to ruin mine. Well, I’m not going to let you.”
“I saved your mother from her psychopathic father.”
I pretend to look thoughtful. “Ah, the déjà vu situation. A girl stuck with her psychopathic father and an outsider trying to save her—why does that sound so familiar? The only difference is that I don’t believe your bullshit about saving Mama. You know what I think? I think you selfishly took her away from everything she loves because you can’t stand not getting your way.”
Hatred clouds his expression. “I loved her, and she loved me. Your mother came with me of her own will, because she knew I was her only chance at happiness. She wasn’t happy with Lucio; she didn’t want any part of this life. She wanted some sense of normalcy in our fucked-up world, and I gave it to her.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t need you to believe me.” He sighs, suddenly looking old and worn out. I never realized how much he’d aged until this moment. His once-lush hair now has a noticeable amount of gray in it and is thinning rapidly. Crow lines spread out from the corners of his eyes, and his complexion is wan.
I tamp down the pity threatening to fill my chest.
“We tried to do it the right way,” he continues. “I met Lucio, stood with my head bowed before him, bore his scorn and ridicule, and offered my suit. What did I get? A gun to my head and the news that she was getting engaged to some scum.”
I reel back in shock. “W-what?”
But in the letter, she seemed so sad about being taken away from her life. It sounded like she had been snatched away from everything she was familiar with. I search Papa’s eyes, but I find no hint of deceit. I have a feeling this isn’t the whole story, but I doubt he’ll tell me more.
Maybe someday, I’ll be brave enough to meet up with my grandfather and find out the truth.
“After everything you went through, don’t you think that Raffaele deserves a fair chance, too? I mean, you saying no to me being with him just makes you a goddamn hypocrite,” I point out.
“It’s different! He doesn’t love you,” he argues. “I faced Lucio Sanna, I faced the whole world, while that Gagliardi boy keeps you hidden. Have you no shame in wanting better for yourself? Where is the Montanari pride?”
I stare at him for a long while in silence. “Or maybe you don’t believe he loves me because you can’t just imagine that someonecanlove me, when for years all you’ve ever seen me as is a tool for your revenge. Luca, Alessandro—I wonder who else you had on your list of eligible men? If I had let you, you’d have passed me around to every single mafioso son for your own gain. You’ve never cared about my happiness. Tell me, Papa, if she were alive, do you think she’d love the person you’ve become?”
He freezes, eyes flaring.
“She’d be disgusted, just as I am.”
I shrink back in terror as he jumps to his feet, but he lashes out, gripping me by my jaw, fingers biting into my flesh. “Watch your mouth. You didn’t know her. I did. You want to be with the Gagliardi bastard? Then go be with him.”
He flings me away, and I crash into the chair, gasping in shock. It’s the first time he’s ever so much as manhandled me.
“You think I care? Do what you fucking want,” he says coldly, a vein thrumming at his temple. “His family will never accept you, and over time, he will resent you for alienating him from his world. Don’t come running back to me when shit hits the fan.”
I watch wide-eyed as he storms out of the room, not sparing me a single glance.
I thought I could have one more moment with my father. One last chance when no bitter words were exchanged, when he might say something—just one thing—to make me rethink whatI’m about to do. But now, it’s clear to me that this was always our life. No matter how hard you try, you can’t change what doesn’t want to change. Patterns exist because they’re meant to. You can try to walk away, hoping they won’t follow, only to find they come back in ways you never expected.
I thought I could have one last time with the father I once knew—the one who was happiest the day our world came crashing down. But I was wrong. And now, I’ve never been clearer on what I have to do.
Goodbye, Father. I will miss us.
