Page 30 of Broken Mafia Bride (His to Break #2)

GIULIA

“ W here are we going?” I raise my head from where it’s been buried in Marco’s back and glance around, suddenly conscious of my surroundings.

For the past few minutes, my mind has been racing with thought after thought about Raffaele and my cousin’s baby. Maybe the right thing is to step away and let them become the family everyone seems to think they should be.

Maybe I’m just standing in the way of something that’s already unfolding, whether I like it or not.

This isn’t something I ever imagined having to face. Not in my worst-case scenarios, not even in my quietest fears. I thought the hardest part would be finding our way back to each other… not having to question if we even still have a place together.

And now Isabella’s telling me she’ll walk away from him if I ask her to. Just like that. As if it’s that simple.

But it’s not. Because asking her to leave means asking her to raise a child alone. To carry the weight of that choice—of that life—without the father of her child beside her. And no matter what’s happened between us, I don’t know if I can live with myself if I’m the reason that happens.

“It’s a surprise,” Marco’s words bring me back to the present.

I glance over my shoulder and spot a familiar pub. I’ve only been to Marco’s house in Sardegna once, and even though the location is a bit unfamiliar now, I clearly remember the pub where I was served the best beer on earth.

“Your house is the surprise?” I ask.

He laughs, turning the bike into a corner. The force of his turn causes me to lurch forward, and I have to wrap my arms around him, hanging on tight.

“You’re going to get us killed,” I shout over the roaring wind, trying to stay calm—but all I get in response is another burst of laughter.

When we finally pull over in front of his house, he glances over his shoulder at me with a smile. “We weren’t going that fast. I know these roads like the back of my hand, and I’d never do anything to put you in harm’s way.”

I step down from the bike, grumbling. “Remind me never to let you take me on a ride on this death trap again.”

“Hey! This bike belonged to my favorite uncle. It survived three fires and a flood.”

“I can tell. It looks like it’s begging to be put out of its misery.”

“I restored it last summer.”

I glance over the bike, which looks like a bunch of rusty spare parts cobbled together.

I don’t know how it hasn’t coughed up its last smoke and given up the ghost already.

If I hadn’t been so desperate to run away from the guilt shining in Raffaele’s eyes, I would never have gone anywhere near the bike.

“You restored that… thing?”

He slaps the back seat with a grin. “Yeah, the only thing left is to paint it, and it’ll be as good as new. What do you think?”

“I think you should stick to being a fisherman,” a familiar voice snorts from behind me.

I whirl around in shock. “Sienna?”

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” Marco snipes.

The red-haired doctor is leaning against the doorway, wearing a soft smile and looking exhausted, but somehow still radiant. “Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come over here and give me a hug?”

My feet move before my brain has the chance to catch up, and I’m flying forward, a smile splitting my face, and at the same time, a sob rises in my throat.

Sienna’s arms open wide a second before I crash into her, and I’m suddenly wrapped in warmth. Even though she’s a small woman, she gives the best hugs, arms tightening around you until you’re almost breathless, but somehow, it still feels like you’re being cocooned in a safe haven.

“Hey there, Ariel.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I sob into her neck.

She pulls away a little, eyes meeting mine. “Of course I’m here. You’ve been avoiding me. Did you think I was going to stay across the ocean and let you be miserable alone?”

I wipe my runny nose with the back of my hands and glance over her shoulders. “What about the kids? Who’s taking care of them? And?—”

She waves a hand with a grin. “The kids are great, but I’m here for you.”

I laugh. “Are they here?”

“One of the twins almost successfully snuck into my suitcase,” she informs me with a smile, but a second later, her expression turns serious. “I couldn’t bring them. I don’t know how long I can stay, and it’d have been difficult to?—”

I squeeze her hand, halting her. “It’s all right. I’m just glad you’re here.” I wrap my arms around her again, breathing in her familiar scent. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you here, Si. Everything is a mess, and I don’t?—”

“Come on in,” she says softly. “Let me make you some coffee, and you can tell me everything. Apparently, there’s a Raffaele in the picture.”

I freeze. “Did Marco?—”

She nods. “No wonder you never took any of the million hints I was trying to give you about Marco. Sheesh, you could’ve just told me—I wouldn’t have wasted my damn time rooting for you two.”

I huff out a laugh. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“It better be. You think I took a twelve-hour flight to Sardegna to hear a simple, basic story?” Grabbing my hand, she pulls me into the house.

We spend the rest of the afternoon devouring a platter of seafood and sipping cold beer while I give Sienna the full rundown of everything that’s happened—including how I ended up unconscious in the water for Marco to find and save me.

“So you think Noemi’s kidnapping is targeted at your grandfather?” Sienna asks.

I sigh. “At this point, we’re just working with a whole lot of theories. Nothing is certain.”

And the thing with Raffaele and Isabella is just one more layer to this mess.

“When you find her,” Marco begins carefully, “what’s your plan? Are you really going to suddenly subject her to a family she doesn’t know? A father who’s getting married to her cousin, a mafia grandfather and great-grandfather who hate each other?”

“What’s your point?” I snap at him.

“He’s right, Giulia,” Sienna says gently, her eyes shifting between us. “She needs a stable, emotionally safe environment to start healing from everything she’s been through. And from what you’ve shared with me, I’m not sure Casa Bianca is that place right now.”

I feel the irritation rise in my chest, but I keep my voice even. “Casa Bianca is protected. Guarded. It’s the safest place I know.”

Sienna nods slowly. “Safe doesn’t always mean healthy.”

“What’s healthier than being surrounded by family?” I ask, trying to hold onto the conviction in my voice.

She doesn’t flinch. “A family built on blood and survival? Giulia, I’m not judging you—but let’s not pretend we’re talking about ordinary dysfunction here. This isn’t just complicated—it’s dangerous. You didn’t run back to this life when you got your memory back. That tells me something.”

“Chicago isn’t safe, I’ll give you that. But Sardegna is different. My grandfather?—”

Sienna holds up a hand, not dismissive—measured.

“I know you want to believe that. I know you need to believe that. But places don’t change just because we want them to.

This place may look like paradise, but underneath the colorful paint is the dark and the ugly.

Beneath the beauty and tradition is still a world built on fear and control. You know that better than anyone.”

I inhale sharply, the pressure inside me spiking. “I am part of that dark and ugly world, Sienna.”

I meet her eyes, letting the mask slip.

“I’m not the sweet baker, single-mom Ariel that you think you know. I’m a mafia daughter; generations of violence run through my veins. I can shoot a moving target from miles away. I’ve done things I’ll never be able to explain to a therapist. That life isn’t behind me—it’s in me.”

She pauses, something unreadable flickering across her face.

“And yet… You left it behind. For four years, you chose a different life. A life where your child didn’t fall asleep to the sound of loaded guns being cleaned in the next room.

You may not have remembered your past, Giulia—but you still built a future that had nothing to do with it. That matters.”

My throat tightens, and my words come out thinner than I mean.

“You don’t know me. You don’t get to decide what kind of life I belong to.”

“No,” she says gently, “but maybe you don’t either. Not yet. That’s why I’m asking you to slow down. To think beyond loyalty. Beyond fear.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch Marco’s reaction—a subtle flinch, like the words struck deeper than intended. Guilt rises fast and hot.

I want to say something—to him, to Sienna—but the weight of this room, of this choice, becomes too much.

I stand up from my chair too fast, the chair clattering to the ground, and without another word, I walk out of the house.

Because I can’t do this right now. I don’t want to fight. I’m exhausted by the need to prove myself to everyone, over and over again.

The sun is already starting to set, and soon, it’ll be dark. Trying to find my way home alone through the unfamiliar streets of Sardegna is a bad idea, so instead, I make my way over to a pile of scrap in the yard. Among the rusted metal and broken parts is a fridge with no door, and I sit on it.

It doesn’t take long for Marco to join me, settling beside me with a sigh.

“She doesn’t mean that,” he tells me.

“She does. And I don’t need you to lie to make me feel better. She meant every single word she said,” I bite out.

“She cares about you, and she’s worried you’ll get hurt in the middle of your cousin and Raffaele’s relationship.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, breathing through the sting of knowing that the two of them share something—something that might one day turn into love. And where would that leave me?

“So it’s him,” Marco says softly, his voice tinged with hurt… and just a trace of bitterness. “It’s always been him, hasn’t it? He’s the reason I never stood a chance.”

I turn to face him. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying things between us could have changed?” He smiles sadly. “Who’s the liar now?”

“It’s not what you think,” I argue. “It’s?—”

His hand suddenly cups my face. I go still as he leans in, bracing myself for the kiss I know is coming. His mouth hovers just a breath away from mine when panic takes over—I flinch.

His mouth curves up into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I just saved myself a broken nose,” he says quietly. “But at what cost?”

Marco’s eyes shift over my shoulder, and I turn my head, following his gaze. My breath stutters in my chest when I catch sight of Raffaele heading toward us. And he doesn’t look happy at all.

I turn back to face Marco. “What are you playing at?”

His grin widens. “A little jealousy might actually help take that bastard’s massive ego down a notch.”

“Marco,” I warn.

He leans forward and brushes his mouth across my cheek. “I’ll be here if you need me, Ariel. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Ten years, twenty, I’ll be here. Let me know when that grouchy son of a bitch fucks this up, because I have no doubt he will.”

Before I can reply, Raffaele’s voice cuts in. “Say goodbye, Giulia. We’re leaving.”