Page 86 of Broken Mafia Prince
“The cops will be here any minute,” he tells me. “You need to go home.”
I open my mouth to respond but my cousin’s voice cuts me off. “You’re hurt. I can drive you to the hospital.”
I glance over at her, cheeks flaming at the surprised look she’s giving me. “It’s just my ankle. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a hospital.”
“Oh.” She blinks. “I didn’t know your ankle was hurt. I was talking about Raffaele. He needs to get checked out. Why don’t you come with us to the hospital, Raffaele?”
He drops me to my feet, making sure I’m stable before letting me go. “I’ll get more questions at the hospital than at the precinct.” He makes a two-fingered salute at someone, and barely a second later, there’s the sound of a car pulling over beside us. “Tommaso will take you to the hospital to be with your father.”
“Okay.” I don’t make any move to get in the car, nor does he try to walk away.
“I still think you should come with us and get yourself checked out,” Isa insists.
“Goodbye.” Ignoring her suggestion, Raffaele turns and saunters away, hands stuck in his pocket with all the poise of a movie star on the red carpet instead of a man who’s just been in a life-or-death fight.
“I see why you’re obsessed with him,” Isa laughs.
“I’m not.”
She shrugs. “I’d be if I were you.”
“He’s the last thing on my mind right now. I’m more worried about Papa and this whole mess of today,” I tell her. “And I need to get my ankle checked out anyway. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Sure.”
The fact that Raffaele remains at the very front of my thoughts throughout the drive to the hospital makes me terrified that my cousin may be right about being obsessed with him. After the events of today, I can’t afford to be tied to a man like that. I can’t be tied to this world anymore.
I nearly lost Father today.
It can easily be Raffaele next. Call it cowardice or whatever, but at least I’m brave enough to admit that I can’t take another loss. I reach for the medallion around my neck and brush my thumb over it.
I’m not sure I’ll survive another loss.
27
RAFFAELE
One week later
“I’m out of cigars,” my father says, his tone far too grave for the situation. Then again, he’s been smoking those damn Cuban cigars for as long as I can remember.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without one for more than an hour. I try to recall if there’s ever been a time when he actually ran out. Probably not. I’d bet my ass that cigars hold a prime spot in our monthly household budget.
I wonder what Giulia thinks about the smell of cigars. I sigh internally, disgusted with myself. Since I left her with Tommaso a week ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’ve been harassing the man I put in charge of watching her for constant updates.
So far, I now know her favorite cafe, the gun range in the city where she takes shooting lessons, and how she licks ice cream like she’s auditioning for a role in a porn production. That image haunts my head at the most inappropriate times. The result of which is a lot of sitting around this week, if I don’t want to be walking around with an achingly hard cock.
“Edoardo is no fun when he doesn’t have something hard in his mouth,” one of the men seated around our dinner table jeers, drawing scattered laughter from the other men.
“And you don’t shut up unless your mouth’s stuffed like Thanksgiving turkey,” Father smirks.
We’ve been at this so-called meeting for the past three hours, and so far we’ve only managed to discuss what Paulo’s favorite whiskey brand is, what auctions are happening this summer, and how many horses can fit in my father’s new stables. Right after Luca’s death and the massive explosive last week, the other families went into defense mode, doubling their security and staying alert.
Things have gradually returned to how they used to be.
My father was suspicious of my involvement in the matter, and I know he questioned my men about it. Luckily for me, I’d been smart enough to employ an outside gun-for-hire group for the mission. The only one of my men who knows exactly what went down that day is Tommaso, and I know he’ll never betray me.
I tune back in when I hear Giulia’s name being mentioned, and my senses go on alert, ears pricking in attention. On the exterior though, I’m as cool as ever, tapping my finger in a staccato rhythm on the wooden surface of the table.
