Page 167 of Broken Mafia Prince
“There he is!” someone exclaims.
Before I can shoot again, my gun is smacked out of my hand. A fist rushes toward my face, and I grab it, yanking the owner forward into an uppercut that shatters his jaw. I feel anotherpresence coming up behind me, and I’m quick to drive my elbow backward into the man’s solar plexus.
Another man reaches for his gun, but I’m faster. I drive the heel of my boot into his chest, causing him to fly into the air and land a fair distance away, his head smacking the ground.
“They’ve called for backup!” Tommaso cries, still fighting off the two men on him. “We need to go. Now!”
“We need to split up.” My best friend has a nasty-looking bruise at the edge of his jaw. “That’s the only way we’re getting out of this. We need to distract Edoardo’s men while you go kiss your woman.”
“I’m not leaving you guys.” I shoot the two men attacking Tommaso, and we take a moment to breathe. Matteo taps his wrist.
“Your only other option is standing her up,” he says. “It’s almost noon, Raffaele.”
I glance at my watch and see that he’s right. If I don’t make a run for it now, I’ll never make it to my own wedding. Giulia has been disappointed enough times in her life. I refuse to start our new life together by letting her down.
“Stay safe,” I tell them. “I fucking mean that. Don’t you dare die. Both of you.”
“Get out of here.” Matteo rolls his eyes, then asks Tommaso, “Where are we on our own backup?”
“Eleven minutes,” he replies. “We can do this.”
“Fuck yeah, we can.”
I nod at them one after the other, then tuck my gun back into my shoulder holster and start running. I just need them to buy me enough time to marry the woman I love and then leave all of this behind me.
A short ride later, I burst through the doors of the chapel located on a quiet street deep in the Chicago suburbs, panting hard.
“Where is she?” I ask Father Albert.
I glance around, searching for Giulia, but come up empty. I raise my wrist to my line of sight, relieved when I see that it’s about five minutes to noon. I made it on time, which means she should be here already or at least on her way.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gagliardi.” The elderly man stands from the front pew, dressed in his black robe, a chaplet wrapped around one fist. “If you’re referring to your bride, she hasn’t arrived yet.”
“I can see that,” I grumble, pulling out my burner phone from my pocket. To avoid being caught by my father, Tommaso purchased the burner phones we’ve been using to communicate. The problem is that I don’t know if Enrico has already tapped Giulia’s phone, which is why communication with her has been spotty.
When I called her last night, I was mindful of not exceeding the ten-minute mark, which could give anybody trying to track me down enough time to do so. It’s also why I didn’t outright say the location; instead, I pinned it on a map and shared it with her. I’ve done my best to be careful, and I hope it’s enough.
Even though her father is an asshole who’s tried to take advantage of her love for him severally, I doubt he’d actually try to do her harm. I can’t say the same about my father. He’ll mow down anything in his way, family or not.
I dial her number and wait, listening to it ring.
She probably left her phone behind as a security measure. Or maybe she tossed it into her bag and can’t hear it ringing. She’ll be here. I just need to give her some time.
“Why don’t you take a seat while we wait for the other party?” Father Albert suggests. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon. In my years of life, I’ve become familiar with the fact that women are never on time.”
Not Giulia, though, I think, watching the hour and minute hand align at twelve. All the other times I’ve ever arranged for us to meet, she’s been on time. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong now.
She could just be running late, it happens, a voice in my head chides.
Ten minutes pass by in silence.
By the twenty-minute mark, I call her again, and again and again. At twenty-eight minutes past, I’m calling Isabella. Just like with Giulia, the line rings with no response.
I’m panicking now, all the red lights blaring in my head. The pity in Father Albert’s eyes isn’t helping, either. I have to fight against the urge to go over there and punch that look off his face.
I dial Matteo next. “Status?” I ask.
“On our way to the chapel. Backup got here on time, and we managed to scare the other men off. But it won’t last forever. We need to move, get back underground, and regroup.”
