Page 82 of Broken Mafia Prince
I floor the gas pedal.
“She’d better be.”
26
GIULIA
There’s someone in my room. And this time, I know it for sure, because I’m not in the safehouse, and it’s definitely not a half-naked Raffaele cooking at the stove.
After Isabella and I leave, planning to head out of the city to Raffaele’s safehouse, Luca texts me. Something about “an important announcement” he wants to make this morning. Being the jerk he is, he keeps it vague, only hinting that it has to do with our engagement. I’m not exactly eager to hear whatever crap he has to say, but Isa points out the obvious—if my father finds out I’m not at her place, I won’t have a good enough excuse.
I’m sure Isa’s presence is also required for Luca's grand announcement. So, we make a U-turn and go to the house I’ve spent most of my life dreading.
Isa waits out in the foyer for me after I decide to run upstairs and grab a sweatshirt. I’ve barely stepped in my room when I sense it.
A faint shift in the air. A footstep against the hardwood. The kind of silence that isn’t natural. My body goes rigid. I’m not alone.
Tensing, I reach under my pillow for the gun I always keep there, only to find it missing.
Only then do I remember tossing it on the dresser as soon as I’d gotten home earlier this morning. Damn it. I hold my breath, waiting for the infiltrator to step close enough for me to grab and disarm him.
The footsteps get closer and closer and closer.
When I determine that the intruder is close enough, I jerk upright, grab the man’s arm, and try to twist it behind his back. I realize my mistake a moment too late, though, when I spot the gun in his other hand.
I try to leap for it, but the man raises it and brings the butt of his gun down on the side of my temple, stunning me. My head spins as pain blooms in my skull. I stagger back, disoriented. The man takes advantage of my sorry state, pulling my arms behind my back and pressing his gun to the underside of my jaw.
“You’re coming with me, princess,” the man says coldly. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
I do a quick calculation in my head. The penthouse is locked down tighter than a vault. The only way anyone could have gotten in is if one of Father’s men betrayed us. My stomach twists at the thought. I’d always believed moles were a Gagliardi problem, not ours.
The man gripping my arm drags me out of the room, his hand like a vise around my wrist. I imagine a thousand ways I can separate his head from the rest of him. Slowly. Painfully. By the time we reach the stairs, I’m already working out the details.
When I step into the living room, my breath catches. Father is on his knees, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His face is bruised, but his eyes are sharp as ever. He doesn’t look scared. He looks ready to kill.
Then I see him. Luca.
“You bastard!” I snarl.
Luca turns, smirking like the smug piece of trash he is. “Well, look who decided to join us. The princess herself.”
“You’re insane if you think you’ll walk out of here alive,” I snap. My eyes flick to the fresh bruises on his face. Someone got to him before this. Shame they didn’t finish the job.
He chuckles, low and cruel. “Still full of fire, even now. But that big mouth of yours won’t save you. Look around. You’re just as helpless as dear old daddy over there.”
I take a step forward, rage boiling under my skin. “Untie me, and we’ll see who’s helpless. Nice bruises, by the way. Who did you sleep with this time? Someone’s wife? A shame her husband didn’t put you out of your misery.”
His grin falters for a second, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. He steps closer, shoving his gun under my chin and forcing my face up. His breath smells like cigarettes and spite.
“Listen to me, princess,” he hisses. “You’re at my mercy. Your men are dead. Your fortress is a tomb. And no one is coming to save you. So maybe think twice before opening that pretty little mouth again.”
I meet his eyes, refusing to flinch. “If you think I’ll ever bow to you, Luca, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
Hatred coils in my chest like a snake. Luca has always been scum, but this? This is a new low. Every word he spits at me makes me want to rip him apart. But he’s right. For now, we’re at his mercy. Not that I’d ever let him know I believe that.
I can be accused of many things, but being a quitter isn’t one of them. Satisfaction rolls through me when his face pinches into a nervous frown.
Movement catches my eye. Isa. She’s peeking out from the balcony, wide-eyed and pale. They must not have found her. My pulse races as I hold her gaze.
