Page 66 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Honestly, Giulia, I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here,” he scoffs. “This isn’t the sort of thing you’re supposed to even be aware of. This is none of your business. Stay out of it.”
“It became my business the moment someone shot at me,” I hiss. “And I’m not going to leave this alone until you give me some information. If you don’t, I’ll go digging, and trust me, you won’t like me digging.”
Our eyes clash and hold, hazel against green. His jaw clenches, and finally, he relents with a deep sigh.
“I have always known that the Echelon Syndicate was a part of this for a long time,” he informs me. “They like to play God, put their noses where they aren’t wanted and control everything. I know that they’ve been trying to mastermind this family feud and escalate things.”
I gape at him. “You knew all that, and yet this is the first time I’m hearing about it? And since you know all this, why are you still going after the Gagliardis? Doesn’t that make them exempt from all this? Innocent, in fact?”
“Innocent?” he sneers. “Nothing about those bastards is innocent. The Syndicate might be pulling strings, but that family has their share of the blame. I won’t be surprised if he gave them the idea since he is a member.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I have no idea where to even start. Father is so blinded by his need for revenge that he can’t see past it to discover the truth. His tunnel vision for the Gagliardis is frightening, and I’m starting to realize that Raffaele’s warning to be careful is more serious than he made it seem.
“But—”
He cuts me off. “How did you manage to come by your information?”
I freeze, my heart giving a sudden kick in my chest. In my haste to find out the truth, I failed to factor in that my father would be curious about my source. My hands turn clammy, and I drag them down the material of my pants, swallowing.
“It’s c-complicated,” I stammer.
He doesn’t give an outward reaction, but I can feel the suspicion radiating off him. “Complicated sources are equivalent to untrustworthy sources. I hope you know that, Giulia.”
“Untrustworthy? You mean the same source that revealed to me something you’ve been hiding from me for who knows how long?” I throw my hands into the air.
“I did it for your own good,” he points out. “The cost of knowledge in our world is steep, and only one of us should have to pay it. Be careful, Giulia, you can’t trust anybody, no matter what.”
I stare at him for a long moment, allowing his words to soak in, before turning around and marching out of the office. I know that in our world, trust is something so scarcely found, it’s almost become a foreign concept. Of all people to trust, Raffaele shouldn’t even make the top one hundred list. And yet, I went running when he called, and didn’t feel the tiniest flicker of alarm during the time I was with him.
Thinking about him now is like opening the floodgates, and the memory of that illicit kiss comes rushing back.
It takes me hours of tossing and turning to finally fall into sleep. Unfortunately, not even in my unconsciousness am I safe from Raffaele’s piercing blue eyes and the dark promise in them. In my dream, when he goes to walk away, I pull him back to me and kiss him again, and again and again.
The kiss is so good that it feels like the earth is rolling and rumbling beneath me. It takes my brain a moment to realize that the loud bang I’m hearing isn’t a part of my dream, and I shoot up in bed, eyes wide.
Outside the window, the world is vision of orange as fire licks up from an explosion nearby. I can hear the sound of heavy footsteps and men’s voices.
What the fuck?
Without another thought, I jump out of the bed and pull out my Glock from my bedside table drawer, racing out of my room in my thin sleeping shorts and oversized shirt. The cold night air whips against my body, causing goosebumps to rise up on my arms. Ignoring the cold, I remove my gun from safety and dash down the hall to my father’s room.
I run into him in the hallway, wearing khaki pants and holding his gun. As soon as he spots me, something like relief crosses his eyes. It’s the first sign of care about me that I’ve seen on his face in years, and it makes me feel suddenly warm.
“I hope you won’t hesitate to use that thing.” He motions at the gun in my hands.
Before I can give him a reply, I spot a man creeping up behind him. There’s no hesitation as I raise my hand, aim, and fire, half his head blowing out. “Is that a good enough response?” I ask easily, but on the inside, my stomach tumbles.
“I have strong reason to think these are the Syndicate’s men,” he tells me as we fall into step, headed downstairs.
Anger bubbles through me and my hand around the butt of the gun tightens. I can’t believe that these bastards reallysent people to shoot us in our sleep. Haven’t they done enough damage? The feud between the families has already cost so many lives and products, and yet they still have the guts to pull this move.
The sound of a gunshot pulls me out of my thoughts, and I sight another man clutching his chest, red blooming across the front of his shirt.
“Where’s your head at? You’re going to get yourself killed,” Papa hisses at me.
I grit my teeth as we continue down the stairs. The metallic scent of blood thickens in the air, and when we reach the living room, the sight waiting for us is worse than I imagined. Several of our security guards lie lifeless on the floor, their bodies riddled with bullets. My father’s face hardens, but he doesn’t pause.
We step over them and barely make it another step before seven armed men emerge, blocking our way. Father and I exchange a glance, and in that moment, I’m more connected to him than I’ve ever been in my life. A flick of his eye tells me exactly what he plans, and I shoot him a curt nod before we spread out.
