Page 28 of Broken Mafia Bride (His to Break #2)

GIULIA

“ M arco!” I cry, jumping off the swing bench and closing the distance between us.

His strong arms wrap around me immediately, holding me tight. I sigh, relaxing into his embrace, relief washing over me at the familiarity of him. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been this whole time—until I was in his arms.

Raffaele’s presence in Casa Bianca has left me feeling a little on edge—anticipation, desire, and caution all pulling in different directions. It’s not that I’m not glad he’s here. It’s just that, given everything going on, he’s become another piece of a puzzle I haven’t quite figured out yet.

On the other hand, Marco is familiar—and more than that, he’s the only one here who truly knows Noemi. He’s been as much a parent to her as I have. He’s the only one who can understand even a fraction of what I’m feeling.

“Hey, Ariel,” he says. “How are you holding up?”

I pull back with a small, shaky smile. “About the same.”

“You look terrible,” Marco says with a smile.

“Ah, yes, just what every girl wants to hear,” I reply dryly. “What are you doing here?”

Even though we’re in the same area now, we haven’t had many chances to meet. His work keeps him away, and I get the sense he prefers to keep his distance from anything tied to the mafia.

“Yeah,” Raffaele says, his tone sharp. “What exactly are you doing here?”

Marco’s gaze shifts over my shoulder to where Raffaele stands a few steps behind me. I don’t need to turn around to know he’s glaring—probably posturing like some overpaid bodyguard.

A faint smirk plays on Marco’s lips. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Raffaele growls.

“For the love of god, you two need to cut it out,” I snap, irritated. The last thing I need is another pair of men in my life bickering like schoolchildren. I’ve had enough of that today.

“You heard her. Knock it off,” Marco adds.

I turn to him with narrowed eyes—and only then do I notice the faint bruises on his face. “What the hell happened to your face?”

“You should ask your baby daddy,” he responds coolly.

Behind me, Raffaele snorts. “Oh, I’m more than just a baby daddy.”

“Baby daddy is being generous,” Marco retorts. “More like sperm donor.”

“Which is more than anyone can say about you. You couldn’t even get a kiss. How’s that friend zone looking for you?”

Marco’s jaw clenches. “Unlike you, I don’t kiss and tell, but you’re truly delusional if you believe the bullshit you’re spouting. A lot happened while you were… forgotten.”

Silence settles like a ten-ton weight between the two men. The tension is so palpable that I feel like I can grab it if I reach out. I glance between them, trying to decide who to talk sense into, but they both look like they’re a second away from lunging at each other.

“You’re lying,” Raffaele finally bites out. “She would never touch you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Marcos smirks, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “And are you really going to stand here and say you didn’t touch anyone? ’Cause it’s starting to reek of hypocrisy out here.”

“Marco, stop! Both of you—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“He started it,” Marco grumbles.

“I cannot believe you said that,” I scoff. “I’m beginning to think I’m the only adult around here. I’m not a fucking piece of meat for you two to fight over. We’re all supposed to be working together to find Noemi. Do I even have to remind you two of this?”

Raffaele snorts. “I doubt there’s anything the fisherman can do to help.”

“There’s only one of us she recognizes.” Marco cocks his head. “So there’s only one of us she’s going to come running to, and it’s definitely not the big, angry, unfamiliar dude claiming to be her daddy.”

I throw my hands in the air in frustration. “You know what, why don’t you two just whip out your dicks and grab a tape measurer? That will certainly be more efficient than running your mouths like little boys.”

“Giulia—” Raffaele begins, but I’m already marching back to the house. I’m too pissed to even be disappointed in both of them. All I want is to catch a damn break and find my kid, not placate grown men who should know better.

Frustrated, I march back into the house, intent on finding Caterina to offer me some distraction from the testosterone-fueled idiots in this house.

I hear footsteps approaching me, and when I raise my head, I catch sight of Isabella. My cousin used to be my safe space, the person I could always talk to about anything and trust to steer me right, but since the news of her and Raffaele’s engagement, I’ve found myself avoiding her.

It’s not entirely about me being upset that she’s engaged to the man I love—it’s also the fact that I can’t talk about some happy affair while my child is missing. I don’t have the patience to hear about wedding bells when Noemi is god knows where with god knows who.

Too bad for me, though, I can’t avoid her forever when we’re living under the same roof.

“Giulia!” she cries in delight, hurrying forward. “Just the person I was looking for. Where have you been?”

“Just around,” I say hesitantly.

“I heard Enrico’s here,” she says with a soft smile. “It’s good having everyone in one place again. Feels like it’s been a long time.”

My stomach twists, but I manage a polite nod. “Yeah… it has.”

She hesitates, then adds carefully, “I’ve been thinking about possibly moving the wedding date—just slightly. So everyone’s still around. No pressure, of course… I just want it to feel right. Whole.”

I force a small smile. “That makes sense.”

She pauses again, more tentative now. “I know there’s a lot happening right now, and I don’t want to overwhelm you, but…

when things settle, I’d love to talk to you about some of the plans.

I was thinking something a little softer for the dresses—maybe pink or mint green. But we can talk about it later.”

Bile stings the back of my throat, and I quickly swallow it down. “I appreciate that. Honestly, I can’t think much about the wedding right now, but I’m sure whatever you choose will be beautiful.”

She draws in a slow breath, arms folding gently across her chest instead of flaring out in frustration. “That doesn’t feel fair,” she says quietly, her eyes meeting mine.

“Excuse me?” I blink at her.

She holds my gaze. “All my life, I’ve done my best to be there for you, through everything.

I’ve stood by you, supported you, helped clean up more than a few messes.

” Her voice doesn’t rise, but there’s a clear undercurrent of emotion.

“And now that I need a little bit of that in return, it feels like I’m being pushed aside. ”

I gape at her. “Isabella, my child is missing.”

She nods, her expression softening but still steady. “I know. I do. And I can’t imagine what that feels like. I’m not asking you to drop everything and throw yourself into wedding planning. I just… I thought maybe talking about something lighter might help. Even for a minute.”

I exhale, the tension in my shoulders refusing to ease. “I’m not trying to be unsupportive. I just can’t focus on things like dresses right now. That’s all. But it’s your day—I’ll wear whatever you choose.”

Her face shifts, guilt creeping in. She steps closer. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice quiet. “That was thoughtless of me. I never even considered how you must be feeling about all of this.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused.

She lets out a soft sigh. “The engagement… I know it must’ve come as a shock. I’m truly sorry, Giulia. None of this was planned—it happened fast, and there was a lot of pressure. We were pushed into it more than anything else.”

Isabella gently takes my hand, her expression earnest. “We’re only doing this for the sake of peace in Chicago.

But if it ever comes to it—if it’s really causing harm—I’d walk away.

I don’t want to be a pawn in any of this.

There has to be another way to bring peace without tearing you and Raffaele apart. ”

I shake my head. “Isabella, listen to me. You have to go through with the wedding.”

Her eyes widen. “I… I don’t know if I can. Not if I know it’s hurting both of you. I never wanted to come between you. That thought alone weighs on me.”

“Stop,” I say gently, letting out a breath. “It’s all right. If there’s anyone I’d rather see with Raffaele, it’s you. I can’t ask you to walk away—not after everything that’s been done to keep this fragile peace. We can’t sacrifice that… not for me. Not for something that might never be simple.”

My voice shakes as I try to explain, even while knowing part of me is devastated at the idea of her and Raffaele together.

“How can I stand back and watch the war rage on, knowing I could’ve prevented it just by stepping aside and letting this marriage happen? When I get Noemi back, I want her to be able to return to the place I was born—without me living in constant fear that she’ll become a victim of the chaos.”

I know this isn’t either of their faults, and sometimes I wonder if they want this even less than I do. I can’t hate them for it, or keep being bitter about the cards they’ve been dealt… the cards we’ve all been dealt.

She looks at me, worried. “Are you sure?”

I nod, pasting on a smile. “Yes. I promise.”

She sighs. “I don’t want you to hate me. But you have to believe me—I never wanted him. Not once, not when you two were together. But… after that night, I think I started to have feelings for him. It’s—” She hesitates, voice trembling. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

But her words lodge in my brain. That night. What is she talking about?

Isabella lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. “It was the biggest mistake of our lives. And god, I wish I could forget it.”

I stop breathing. “W-what?” I croak, barely audible.

But she keeps going, her tone calm, almost detached. “Unfortunately, stupid choices come with consequences.”

I stare at her, frozen, as she presses a hand gently to her still-flat stomach. My chest tightens. My eyes drop to her dress, searching—desperate—for any sign of a bump.

No. It can’t be.

Raffaele would’ve told me. I asked him, and he…

My thoughts slam to a halt. He never actually said he hadn’t been with her. I just assumed—and that lie belongs to me. A cold, sick feeling rises from my stomach to my throat, choking the breath from me.

“You’re… p-p-pregnant?” The words scrape out of me, barely there.

Isabella meets my gaze, and for a second, I expect smugness or shame. But there’s only honesty—and a hint of sadness.

“Yes,” she says simply. “But it wasn’t planned. And it doesn’t change anything, Giulia. You have to believe me when I say he’s never looked at me the way he looks at you. Not once.”

She takes a breath, steadying herself. “Whatever’s between you two, it’s bigger than anything Raffaele and I could ever pretend to have. I know that. I’ve always known that.”

Her eyes flicker with a quiet strength. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m not trying to take anything from you. And I know… I know this complicates everything. But I’m not your enemy, Giulia. I never was.”

She keeps talking, but her voice starts to fade, growing distant—muffled, like I’m sinking beneath the surface of a heavy, dark sea. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out her words.

Fragments cut through the blur?—

“…he doesn’t know yet…”

“…I wanted to tell you first…”

The rest is just noise. My vision blurs. My body feels too light and too heavy at once.

And then I feel it—that crack inside me spreading wider, the weight of everything collapsing in my chest.

He told me there was nothing between them. He looked me in the eye and swore. Said I was the only one. Said we could have the life we’d always dreamed of. A cottage by the lake. A dog. Mornings with coffee and silence. He fed me fantasies while planting a future in someone else’s body.

A fragile sound escapes my throat—half gasp, half sob—and my cousin moves closer, her face etched with concern. “Giulia, are you okay? You should sit down. You’ve been under so much stress, and you really need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” I say quietly, steadying my voice. “Just… blindsided.”

“Because of the baby?” she asks gently.

And that’s when I turn—and see him.

Raffaele stands there, still as stone, his blue eyes filled with guilt, sorrow… and something that might be regret. He takes a hesitant step forward, then falters, as if unsure he has the right to come any closer.

I swallow hard. The sob I’ve been holding threatens to rise again, but I push it down, locking eyes with him as my heart fractures silently all over again.

I don’t cry. I won’t.

I just stare at him, every heartbeat carving his name deeper into the hollow he’s left in me.