Page 35 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Jesus Christ, Giulia!” she cries. The horror written all over her face at my little joke makes me burst into laughter, and she starts trying to kick me off the chaise lounge.
My stomach aches with laughter as I try to dodge Isa’s swinging legs.
“Stop it, Isa,” I gasp between giggles. “You can’t be bullying me in my own home!”
“Says who?” she retorts with a mischievous grin.
Before I can respond, a shadow falls over us, and the laughter dies in my throat. My smile disappears as quickly as it came, replaced by a frown. Isa’s eyes flick nervously between me and the looming figure.
Her indecision doesn’t last long. With a sharp inhale, she snatches her sunscreen and towel, muttering something about needing a drink, and bolts into the house. I envy her. If only Icould escape this confrontation as easily, but unfortunately, this conversation involves me. It’s mine to face.
Slowly, I rise to my feet, folding my arms across my chest like armor. “Hello, Father.”
His response is as cold and clipped as always. Only dangling the fob of his Maserati MC20 in the air like an accusation. “What happened to my car?”
I shrug, feigning innocence, though the answer is all over my face. I know exactly what happened to his car. In fact, you can say that Ihappenedto his car. Me, a pallet of spray paint, and far too much free time.
Fury sparks in his green eyes, and triumph makes the corners of my mouth twitch. I’ve long since discovered that I won’t ever be able to make my father happy, so I’ve gone the opposite route. At least when he’s angry at me, he actually looks at me and not through me like I’m a ghost. It’s his attention, nonetheless, even if it’s drenched in anger.
“Black is such a boring color, Papa,” I say nonchalantly. “I thought it could use a little spicing up. You’re welcome.”
He takes a threatening step forward, and I skitter away, heart pounding. Father has never put his hands on me, but the way he’s looking at me now, it’s as if he’s envisioning wrapping his hands around my neck and strangling me.
“You think this is funny?” Father snaps.
I tilt my head, pretending to think. “Funny? No. But seeing you this worked up is kind of entertaining.”
He exhales harshly, nostrils flaring, and that’s when I deliver the killing blow. “Relax, Papa. Your sense of humor died the same day Val and Mama did.”
“Don’t.”
His warning is clipped, but I’m too far gone to stop.
“Don’t what?” I snap, my voice rising. “Don’t bring them up? Don’t remind you of the people you pretend never existed? I’mgetting a little sick and tired of you acting like they never did. You think if you erase them from your life, it’ll miraculously erase the pain, too?”
“That’s enough.” His voice is harsh, and a clear warning rings in it. One that I ignore.
“Or maybe it’s guilt!” I shout. “Guilt because you know she’d still be alive if you hadn’t been so obsessed with catching that driver! Maybe that’s why you?—”
“Enough, Giulia!”
The arctic coldness in his voice freezes me mid-rant. The acidic words dry up on my tongue, and a sinking dread replaces the fury that fueled me moments ago.
He steps closer, his gaze flicks over me icily. “You’ve become too much for me to handle, and maybe that’s my fault for leaving you to your own devices.”
I stiffen as he continues, his voice devoid of emotion. “Let’s hope your betrothed can do a better job.”
The word slams into me like a physical blow. I stagger back a step, staring at him as if I’ve misheard. “My… mybetrothed?”
A faint, cruel smile curves his lips. “Yes, Giulia. Your betrothed. Antonio Cozzoli’s son has offered for you. Congratulations, you’re off the market.”
The world tilts, and I feel like the ground beneath me has been ripped away. My father turns and strides off without another word, leaving me frozen in place.
The full weight of his words crushes down on me, and all I can think, over and over, is that I hate him.
Ihatehim.
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