Page 76 of Broken Mafia Prince
It happens too fast for me to process. He spins us around and pushes me backward. I let out a cry of pain as the back of my head smacks into the wall.
“I’ve been far too nice to you, and that’s become a problem. You?—”
“You’ll let my daughter go this instant or spend the rest of your life eating through a straw,” my father cuts him off in a cold voice I’ve never heard him use before.
Luca’s eyes widen in panic, and he pushes away from me, pasting on his bullshit easy smile. “We were just talking, you know how it is. Right, Giulia?”
“Go to hell and stay there,pezzo di merda.”
He slants me a furious glare, but before he can make a move, Father clears his throat. I expect him to reprimand me for calling Luca names, but instead, he motions down the hall.
“Let’s discuss in my office, Cozzoli.” His hard green eyes are pinned on the other man, making it clear that he’s not asking but ordering.
I collapse into the nearest couch as soon as the two men leave, feeling drained from all the events that have happened these past few days. I can’t catch a freaking break. I’ve just been going from one thing to another, each one more complicated than the last. It’s no coincidence that all of this started from the moment I ran into Raffaele at the tarmac.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Isa’s contact. She picks up on the first ring, sounding excited.
“Did you two do it?” she screeches into the phone.
I pull the phone away slightly, wincing. “Luca’s here.”
“Wait, what? What the hell is he doing there? Where are you?” I can hear rustling over the phone and then the sound of a door banging.
“At Dad’s penthouse.” I sigh. “He just showed up and started to call me a whore.”
“Tell me you at least kneed him in the balls if nothing else. A punch wouldn’t cut it, unless he lost a few teeth in the process.”
I chuckle. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
“I’m on my way,” Isa informs me. “Don’t go anywhere near him until I’m there. Unless it’s to give him a black eye and a dislocated shoulder.”
“Who knew you were so pro-violence?” I grin. “I’m waiting for you. And for the love of god, Isabella, please don’t drive like you’re a Formula One driver.”
“I can’t hear you,” she laughs.
I’m not surprised when barely twenty-five minutes later, my cousin strolls into the room looking like she’s on her way to Parisfashion week rather than just a house visit. She does a double-take as soon as she sees me, one eyebrow hiking up. I follow her gaze and sigh when I see that I’m still in Raffaele’s oversized clothing.
“No comment.” I wag a finger at her.
Isabella drops into the space beside me on the couch and makes a zipping motion over her mouth. “I wasn’t even going to ask.”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
“Because I’m obviously lying.” She rolls her eyes. “Tell me that those are not Raffaele Gagliardi’s clothes.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
Her mouth fixes into a pout. “You’re holding out on me.”
I scoff. “Nothing’s happened, really.” Except the earth-shattering orgasm from hours ago. But then again, I’m taking that to my grave, along with our kiss from the other day. It’s too humiliating to even mention.
“I believe the Syndicate has picked an interest in us, though,” I continue. “I don’t know how or why.”
“Us, huh?” She smirks. “So, what? You guys are a team now or what?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m only doing what you suggested I do. I’m trying to get information to survive this.”
“When I made the suggestion, I wasn’t thinking it’ll turn into sleepovers and sharing of clothes.” Isa waves her hand at my outfit. “Do you really not feel anything for him at all? He’s really handsome, Giulia.”
