Page 64 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Because men in the mafia don’t talk. It’s the main reason they’re always fighting one war or the other.” She raises the pendant. “A war is exactly what’s going to happen when your father accuses mine of attacking his warehouse, and it’ll be the opportunity my father has been waiting for to finally declare war on the Gagliardis.”
“Like father, like daughter.” I nod.
She stills. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that you’re just like father, you both don’t think before jumping headfirst into situations. If your father comes after us, he’ll die along with the rest of his men.”
She laughs humorlessly. “There’s that famous Gagliardi blood thirst.”
“It’s called self-defense,” I point out. “You don’t really expect me to stand there with a smile while your father shoots at me, do you?”
She pretends to think about it. “Now that would solve a whole lot of problems.”
Annoyance sparks in me, and I take a step forward that puts us barely an inch apart. “I’m not the enemy here,” I growl. “I didn’t bring you out here for us to throw barbs at each other and pick up the mantle where our fathers stopped it.”
I watch her throat bob with a swallow. “If you’re trying to get me on your side, you’re wasting your time. I don’t trust you.”
“Me, or my last name?” I growl. “I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me.”
“Are you trying to say you’re the good guy in this story?”
“There are no good guys in our story, and you know that.” This close, I can pick out all the different shades in her eyes, and her flowery scent fills my nostrils. I’d never have expected her to smell so feminine; it’s a contradiction from the toughness she exhibits in her daily life.
“Some are worse than others.”
“How cute. Let me guess, you think there are little sins and big sins too, don’t you?” I ask her, annoyed. “I’m nothing like the asshole you tried to kill earlier. I don’t put my hands on women, at least, not in the way he did.”
Her eyes search mine for answers to a question I can’t fathom. “Being a different type of asshole doesn’t make you any less of one.”
“Is that so?” My gaze drops to her mouth, and I hear her breath catch in her throat. “So what kind of asshole will I be if I kissed you right now, Giulia?”
“Raffaele,” she whispers. “Don’t.”
Her mouth says one thing, but her eyes say something different. The current stretches between us and pulls taut like a string. My hands curl around her slim waist, and she shivers, surging closer to me.
“What kind of asshole will I be?” I repeat.
She opens her mouth to respond, but at that moment, I cup her face in one hand and pull her into a kiss. At the first contact of our mouths, she lets out a shuddery sigh, as if she’s been waiting for this for the longest time. She has no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, and it feels better than every fantasy I’ve had about her since that day at the tarmac.
Giulia’s hands fist into the front of my shirt, holding me in place as my mouth explores hers. She surrenders completely into the kiss, letting out soft moans each time my tongue brushes against hers. It’s only when she tentatively slides her tongue against mine that reason starts to filter through the mist of desire.
Despite the way she carries herself, I have to remember that she’s just eighteen, and she doesn’t have half as much experience as I do. Kissing her is wrong for more than just the fact that she’s a Montanari and I shouldn’t be anywhere near her. I shouldn’t have her in my arms or know what her mouth tastes like. Ishouldn’t want to do much more than kiss her, despite how good I know it’ll feel.
With that thought, I finally pull away, my heart racing in my chest. She raises a trembling hand to her swollen lips, staring at me with wide, glassy eyes, and instead of feeling ashamed, I want to kiss her harder, I want to see how far the flush on her cheek would go.
A strained silence falls between us, and we stare at each other, breathing hard like we’ve just run a marathon. Clearing my throat, I step away from her, trying to break out of the spell she’s put me under.
“The Syndicate getting involved in the feud between our families is a bad sign,” I tell her. “I don’t give two fucks about the war that might come. Some part of me has always known it will happen.”
“If you don’t care about the war, why did you bring me out here to tell me about the Syndicate’s plot?” Her eyes lock on mine, and it feels like I’m being flayed open, and she can see deep into me.
My jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe a part of me isn’t as uncaring about this. I don’t want you to get hurt in this, Giulia. I’m putting my neck out on the line to warn you about what’s going on.”
“Why would anyone do this?”
“I don’t know what the Syndicate stands to gain by doing this, but it has to be something big or they wouldn’t be putting so much effort into it.” I stick my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching for her again. “This isn’t the last of what they’re willing to do, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I don’t know why I add that last part. If Giulia starts thinking that this is anything more than it actually is, it’ll cause a problem. It’s best if she continues to see me as an asshole who’s no good for her.
