Page 90 of Broken Mafia Prince
Liar, the voice in my head screams.
I ignore the voice and tug on my black ankle boots and head over to the full-length mirror to check my reflection.
Isa snorts. “Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”
I turn to my cousin and grip her hand. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I’ve got this. I’ll be careful, I’ll be safe, and I’ll be fine. I need you to cover for me to Father one last time.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so willing to risk everything for him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “And you say you’re not obsessed.”
If obsession is what exists between Raffaele and me, at least I’ll understand it. He’s unbelievably handsome, with the perfect physique, the bearing, and the wealth, and that dark, broody energy makes him irresistible. Becoming obsessed with him would be easier, or at least it’d make more sense.
The raw, pulsing magnetism between us isn’t explainable, not to mention the way we almost seem to be able to read each other’s minds. It’s both terrifying and fascinating.
“I’ll see you in a jiffy,” I tell her instead of a response, then grab my purse and rush out.
I check my watch to make sure I haven’t missed my window of opportunity to see him.
For what may just be the last time. A shuddering breath slips out of my mouth when I see that I still have some time, enough to get to the park before he leaves.
Half an hour later, I’m strolling into the dimly lit park, hugging my arms around me to ward off the evening chill. In my haste, I forgot to put on a jacket, and now I’m paying for it. It’s all Raffaele’s damn fault anyway. What is he thinking, dragging me out here?
The park is completely deserted except for a lonely figure standing in the distance. Even though the man has his back to me and is almost entirely in the shadows, I know exactly who he is. I stop for a moment to take him in, starting from the width of his shoulders and chest to the way it all tapers into a narrow waist and long legs.
As if feeling my presence, Raffaele suddenly turns. Our eyes meet from across the park, blue against hazel, and hold. With our gazes locked, I cross the park, shivering as a light gust of wind whips across, chilling me further. Most of the streetlights here aren’t functioning anymore, but the moon is bright enough in the cloudless sky to cast light over our expressions.
I’m too tired to hide my expression, so I let him see it all: the anger, the fear, the confusion, and the longing. In turn, he lets me see how truly exhausted he is, how unprepared and agitated he is.
“I heard about Edoardo,” I say.
He shrugs, trying to affect a nonchalant expression and failing miserably. “He’ll pull through. He’s a stubborn bastard.”
“Until then, are you the new Don?” I ask curiously.
His jaw clenches. “I’ll be whatever the family needs me to be.”
My chest suddenly feels like it’s on fire, and I resist the urge to rub at it. We stare at each other, the hopelessness of the situation dawning on us. Despite our best efforts, we’ll forever beforced to be what the family wants us to be. We are stuck in this life of giving and giving small parts of ourselves for the familial cause until we have nothing left to give.
“A Don at twenty-four. You must be so proud. If thirteen-year-old Raffaele could see you now, he’d be so jealous.” I try to smile, try to lighten the mood.
It’s partly a tactic to prevent us from finally having a long-overdue conversation. Maybe we can just laugh and joke about things and go home pretending that we haven’t been doomed as far back as that day at the retreat.
“The only thing he’d be jealous of,” Raffaele’s voice softens, “is that I’m standing here with you.”
My throat tightens, and tears sting at the back of my eyes. “In an empty park, in the middle of the night, like we’re some kind of drug dealers.”
Raffaele suddenly reaches for the button of his suit jacket, and with long, deft fingers, undoes it.
My eyes flare. “What are you doing?”
“You’re cold,” he says simply, then steps forward to wrap the jacket around my shoulders. The warmth of him surrounds me immediately, the smell of his cologne and something uniquely him filling my nose. I fight the urge to bend my head and sniff at the jacket.
I expect him to move away after wrapping me in the jacket, but he stays right there, too close for my senses, and yet somehow too far away.
The moment stretches for an eternity, tension rising higher and higher until it feels like I’ll burst. We’re so close that our breaths mingle together, our bodies pulled together like the two opposite sides of a magnet. Staying away from him is impossible, because just like the forces of the magnet, how can I, a mere human, fight a law of nature?
“I want you, Giulia. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” His voice is ragged, pouring over my senses like gasoline. “I want every part of you, from your sharp little mouth…” He cups my jaw, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “To the parts of you only you know.”
My whole body trembles, from the inside out, wanting, needing.
