Page 69 of Broken Mafia Prince
My mind flashes to the pendant, but before I can say anything about it, he continues speaking. “You think you can trust them? You think that I’m paranoid when I say we have to get rid of them before they get rid of us? I’m not. I don’t trust the Syndicate, but if they can help us, then we need to consider this.”
The Echelon Syndicate isn’t a volunteer group or a charity organization. Their help won’t come for free, and it won’t come cheap. That is, if their help is actually what my father thinks it is.
“Concentrate on your little club,” he says, his mouth curving into a knowing smile. “Leave everything else to me.”
Of course, he knows. Keeping things from Edoardo is next to impossible.
I don’t trust the Montanaris, either. A part of me—loyal to my family, to our side of the feud—wants to see them crushed. Reduced to nothing. But another part, the one that won’t let go of Giulia, knows I can’t just stand by and watch her get caught in the crossfire.
“Tell me something,” I ask carefully, locking eyes with my father. “Did you have something to do with the accident?”
He doesn’t need me to specify which accident. From the slight hardening of his eyes, I can tell he knows exactly what I’m talking about—the one that no doubt changed the Montanaris’ lives forever. His jaw tightens, and his gaze turns cold.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, his voice quieter now but firm.
“For damn once in your life, be truthful,” I snap, my voice rising despite myself. “Is that why the Montanari hate us? Why Enrico hates us? Because you caused the accident that killed half his family?”
“Didn’t I say you should focus on your club?” A clear warning rings in his voice. One I choose to ignore.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s as much of an answer as I’m going to give you,” he replies. “Don’t go digging up graves, Raffaele. You’ll only find rot down there.”
I shake my head, a short, humorless laughter puffing out of my throat. “I’d rather find rot than not know what’s under there at all.”
Without waiting for a response, I spin on my heel and burst out of the room. I retrace my steps from almost an hour ago until I’m outside the house and headed for the garage. I’ll give instructions later to have the stolen car destroyed or left to sink, but for now, I make my way to the black Dodge Challenger sitting in the far corner of the parking space.
I swipe the keys from where they hang on the wall and jump into the car. Pressing my foot down on the accelerator, I tear out of the garage and the house, turning the car in the direction of my favorite club in the city. I dig out my phone from my pocket and dial a number.
“Raffaele,” a woman’s husky voice sounds through the phone’s speaker.
The voice that used to excite me now sounds grating to my ear. I wince. “Where are you? Can you be at the Little Palace in twenty?”
“Are you wearing a tie?” she asks.
“Black shirt, no tie.”
Serena lets out a low moan. “I’ll be there in half that time, darling.”
Our relationship is based on mutual interest and a need to scratch an itch. She’s seven years older than me, with the body and allure of a siren. Sex with her is always mind-blowing, and she’ll be the perfect distraction for the mess going on in my head at the moment. I’m sure that after a few mutual orgasms, I’ll have expelled Giulia from my thoughts and be free to think more deeply and clearly about the issue with the Syndicate.
The Little Palace is one of the more reserved clubs around, offering private rooms for overnight guests. I have a long-standing room in the club, where Serena and I have met often throughout the course of our relationship.
When I walk into our room, the redheaded bombshell is reclining on the snowy white sheets in a black, lacy lingerie piece. Her mouth lifts into a smile at the sight of me, and she rises to her feet, arms spread out wide.
“Darling,” she sighs happily, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her whole body into me. “I’ve missed you.”
I drag my hands over her curves, a faint stirring inside me. She raises her head, and our mouths clash in a familiar kiss. I wait for the wild heat that swept through me hours ago to make another entrance, but there’s nothing. The kiss is familiar and yet… not. I find myself comparing it to Giulia’s untrained exuberance, and to my utmost surprise, I find it lacking.
I pull my mouth away, panting and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.
There’s no way I’m actually finding Serena lacking. She’s the sort of woman who makes heads turn, male and female alike. She’s sexy, confident, and has a sexual appetite that almost rivals mine, while Giulia is a smartass eighteen-year-old who’s promised to end my bloodline if I ever kiss her again.
“What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Nothing.” I offer her a smile and fist the back of her hair, pulling her to me again. This time, I slant my mouth over herswith desperation, and she responds immediately, opening her mouth for me and letting out a porn-worthy moan, nothing like Giulia’s soft, surprised gasps.
The scent of her perfume wafts into my nose, and a sense of wrongness fills me. Tearing my mouth away, I stagger back, staring at her but not seeing her. All I can see is brown hair, hazel eyes, and a mouth that is permanently pursed in displeasure at the sight of me.
