Page 75 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Isa would never betray me!” I snap.
“I didn’t say anything about that.” He pushes another fork piled with pancakes into his mouth and chews. He continues after he swallows, and I totally don’t get entranced by the way his Adam’s apple bobs. “It could also be that the people I asked to look into this matter for me aren’t as trustworthy as I thought.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Fix this.”
“How?”
“Eat your food, Giulia. I need to drive you home.”
I take the dismissal for what it is and go back to my food. It’s better if I don’t know what he plans to do anyway. Plausible deniability and all that. I have no doubt whatever he intends to do won’t involve a nice sit-down conversation and a bottle of orange juice.
“I’ll have the clothes laundered and sent back.”
His gaze flickers over me. “You can keep them.”
An hour later, I’m tiptoeing into my father’s penthouse in the city and hoping that, for the first time in his life, he’s decided to sleep in. As soon as I cross the foyer into the high-ceilinged living room, there is a clicking sound, and the room is suddenly awash in yellow light. I whirl around to see my father seated on the couch, staring up at me with a blank expression.
“Good morning,” I say nervously.
He studies me for a terse moment. “Where did you sleep last night?”
Experience has already made it clear to me that I’m a shitty liar. So, rather than give a straight answer, I blink at him. “Didn’t you get my text?”
“I don’t remember Isabella being a size XXL,” he drawls.
Damn it, I forgot to change back into my things. “It’s not hers, Dad. And don’t ask me who it belongs to. Trust me, you do not want to hear the sordid tale.” It’s a half-truth at best, but it beats stumbling through a lie and tipping off all my father’s bullshit radars.
“Giulia, I’m?—”
He’s cut off by the ringing of the doorbell. Relief rocks through me at the interruption. I could kiss whoever is at the door right now. I don’t wait around to hear what else Papa has to say. Instead, I hurry for the door, beating one of my father’s men to it.
The smile on my face withers to nothing as I catch sight of the visitor. “What are you doing here?”
Luca glances over my shoulder. He must see my father, because his expression settles into one of concern. He steps forward and wraps his arm around me, causing me to go as still as a statue.
“I only need to look away for one second for danger to find you,” he sighs. “At this point, I’m terrified you won’t even make it to the altar.”
“I’d rather be dead than stand at the altar with you, asshole,” I whisper into his ear, causing him to jerk away.
His eyes are wide with shock for a moment. I narrow my eyes at him, conveying how serious I’m being. Any hesitation I had about refusing this marriage is gone now that I’ve found out that he’s only marrying me for the sake of his inheritance and he’s even more of an asshole than I ever thought.
Not even a gun to my head would make me say ‘I do’ to him.
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Father says from behind us, then disappears down the hallway leading to his home office. He’s barely left the room when Luca grips me by my arm and yanks me into his body, face twisted into a sneer.
“So the little bitch now spreads her legs for the enemy, huh?” he bites out.
I still. “Let go of me, you asshole.”
“You dare ask me to let go of you?” He scoffs. “I’m your betrothed, and you won’t even let me touch you. Here I was, like a damned fool, thinking it was because you were pure and untouched. Turns out you’re just like every other lying whore who doesn’t want the good guy.”
“You really think you’re the good guy?” I laugh. “I need some of that bottle of delusion you’ve been drinking.”
His brown eyes flare. “So you’re not denying it?”
“I have nothing to say to you, Luca,” I snap. “Your informant needs to get his eyes checked, and you need to check your level of audacity. You think you can waltz into my house and call me a whore? I haven’t been sleeping around, but that’s not out of respect to you. I’m not going to marry you, and I don’t owe you shit!”
