Page 34 of Broken Mafia Bride (His to Break #2)

GIULIA

“ I ’m exhausted,” one of the women says in Italian, the words accompanied by a long yawn. “I never used to get up until about eleven a.m. How do people do it? Two days of waking up by six a.m., and I’m about to pass out.”

“Why are you up by six?” Caterina asks, surprise evident in her voice.

The third woman in the group gasps in shock, and from my position leaning against the island, I can see her eyes go saucer-wide. “You haven’t caught the morning special?”

“She’s in love. Forget her,” the first one yawns again.

“Somebody please fill me in, for the love of god,” Caterina says, glancing between the two women, who suddenly have gleams in their eyes.

Just then, Isa walks over with a glass of wine for me, a sheepish smile on her face. “I forgot I can’t have any for the next few months. You can have it.”

I snatch the glass like a lifeline and raise it to my mouth, hoping it’ll keep me buzzed enough that I’ll be able to listen to my cousin talk about her pregnancy all night without stabbing her with a dinner knife.

“Tell me,” I hear Caterina plead, my attention once more drawn to the women. I know that they are wives of some of my grandfather’s men, and they all live in this neighborhood.

Caterina says they are the biggest gossips and can be lewd.

Still, they are perfectly harmless and are only interested in entertaining themselves because they don’t have much else to do.

The only reason I am here is because Caterina insisted I come tonight, claiming it was a small get-together Pepe wanted for her birthday.

If not, I’d be back in my room at Casa Bianca, drowning in a bottle of wine and listening to sad songs. It’s what I find myself mostly doing these days.

“If you wake up before six a.m., you can catch Raffaele jogging shirtless on the beach,” the first woman giggles. “It’s truly a sight. God created that man as an apology to women all around the world.”

“His abs have abs.” The second one sighs. “And his leg muscles in those tiny shorts. I don’t know what I did in a past life to have access to that view, but I need to do it again.”

“Forget the leg muscles, the shorts are perfect for another reason, and I’m sure you can guess why.”

I choke on my drink, alcohol going down the wrong pipe at the obvious insinuation. Who would have thought that I’d be listening to women who look like they’ve never used a curse word in their lives discuss Raffaele’s package when I accepted Caterina’s dinner invite?

I don’t want to hear about the man at all.

I’ve been doing a hell of a good job avoiding him since that kiss at Martina’s house.

I’ve made sure that every time he’s walking into a room, I’m walking out of it.

Despite trying to make it subtle, Caterina shook her head at me this morning when I abandoned my half-eaten breakfast at the sound of his approaching footsteps.

I really don’t want to remember what a naked Raffaele looks like.

But it’s too late—because an image of his broad, strong body rippling with muscles is already burned behind my eyelids.

The thing about him isn’t just the muscles or definition; it’s also the way he carries himself.

That power and control that wraps around him like his tailored suits make him stand out anywhere, and when you’re around him, you’re instantly sucked into his vortex—but not in an overwhelming way, more in a way that makes you feel protected.

“Are you all right?” Isa rubs my back as I hack and cough, trying to clear my airways.

“Yup,” I croak, eyes watering.

“Is it about what they’re saying?” she whispers, a mischievous smile on her face. “I’m not jealous. It’s a compliment to me, honestly. They want him so badly, but I’m the one carrying his baby and taking his last name soon.”

My stomach turns, and I offer her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah.”

“By the way, I was going to ask you something,” she sighs. “Since you were with him in the past, and you two discussed a future, did he ever say what gender he wanted his first child to be?”

I raise a brow at her, wondering if I heard her right. When she sees the look on my face, she laughs, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh god, I totally forgot about Noemi.”

I’m fed up with her, sick and tired of listening to her go on and on about being Raffaele’s family, their impending wedding, the child she’s going to give him.

It’s not that I’m jealous… Okay, maybe I am, but it feels like she’s rubbing it in my face that she has the life I’ve always wanted and was a hairsbreadth away from getting.

“Pepe’s here,” Caterina cries excitedly, hurrying out of the kitchen.

I grab the bottle of wine and my glass and hurry after her, not wanting to be around my cousin any longer. One more word about the baby, and I swear to god, I’ll shoot somebody, either her or myself, but either way, I’ll finally stop hearing about it every other second.

I walk into the dining room just in time to see Caterina fling herself into Pepe’s arms, giggling. Her husband wraps his arms around her waist and dips her into a kiss. I tear my gaze away and quickly settle into a seat.

What Caterina has with Pepe is what I’ve always envisioned for myself.

He looks at her like she’s a goddess come to earth and treats her like he’s constantly reminding her of all the reasons she said yes to him.

Despite the age difference, he worships his wife, takes care of her in a way that speaks of deep, quiet devotion.

It’s beautiful to watch. But it also makes me feel incredibly lonely.

As the two make their way to the table, I grab Cat’s hand and nudge her to the seat at my side before Isabella can take it.

“I was going to sit there,” Isa frowns down at Caterina. “If you don’t?—”

Her words are cut off by the sound of the doors opening again, admitting two men I’ve seen around Casa Bianca—followed closely by Raffaele.

All eyes are drawn to him as he steps into the room. He’s in dark pants and a black, silk button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone. He looks effortlessly sexy. His dark blue gaze surveys the room slowly, then lands on me and holds.

A shiver climbs down my spine at the intensity of his gaze on mine.

He takes a step forward, and my heart ricochets in my chest, nerves sizzling with anticipation.

I have a vision of him walking up to me, saying he missed me and kissing me right here in front of everyone, but then Isa steps up to him like an unwanted bee, curling her arm through his, and the vision shatters and breaks into a million pieces.

I fix my gaze on my bitten nails, trying not to look at Raffaele as my cousin drags him to a seat at the other end of the table.

“I’ve never seen a woman try so hard—even with a ring and a baby on the way,” Caterina snorts at my side, and I snap my head toward her.

“I just don’t understand how someone can be so wrapped up in their delusions that they willingly spend their life with a man who clearly has eyes for someone else. ”

“What do you mean?”

She eyes me. “I like you, but I hate martyrs—and being one doesn’t look good on you anyway.”

I reel back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Caterina shakes her head. “This whole ‘letting him go’ bullshit you’re doing won’t win you any awards. It’s obvious Raffaele is in love with you—and if I’m not mistaken, you feel the same way.”

“You’re—”

She doesn’t let me speak. We both know my denial would be a lie anyway.

“So tell me—why aren’t you two together right now?”

“It’s complicated.”

Caterina makes a buzzing sound. “Try again.”

I shoot her a stern look. “He’s with Isa now, and she’s my cousin. She’s carrying his child. I don’t want to come between them.”

“I don’t know if you remember, but not only did you carry his child—you gave birth to it and everything,” she points out.

“If you’re going by that logic, you two should’ve been married the second he stepped foot in Casa Bianca.

So tell me the real reason you’re not the one trying to feed him an apple right now. ”

“She’s trying to feed him an apple? He hates apples.”

She glances over my shoulder, toward where I assume my cousin and Raffaele are seated.

“I feel bad for her, honestly. For both of you, if I’m being honest.”

I shrug. “They’re engaged. There’s nothing anyone can do now.”

Caterina tuts. “I never took you for a quitter, Giulia. Until they say I do, you still have a chance to fix this. I’d hate to see you unhappy and full of regret because you didn’t take this chance.”

“I may not know much more than the little my Pepe told me about you two, but the way that man looks at you—like he’s two seconds away from ripping your clothes off and taking you like a barbarian,” she continues.

“Caterina!” I gasp, outraged.

“I’m not lying, and you know it,” she says. “I wasn’t privileged enough to choose the life I ended up with. A lot of us aren’t. We just roll with whatever fate hands us because we don’t have much of a choice. It’s rare for a woman in this life to choose the life she wants.

“But you—you’re the kind of woman who doesn’t just let her fate be decided for her. You actually go after what you want and achieve it. You’re so badass, Giulia. And that’s why it makes no sense to me that you’re just letting things be now.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh. “My priority is Noemi.”

“I know that,” she says. “She should be your priority. But you better think twice about using her as an excuse?—”

The sound of a gunshot cuts her off.

For a split second, no one moves. Then chaos erupts.

“Lock down the house! Nobody gets in or out!” Pepe roars, racing out with his gun drawn. The other men follow, while the women scream in terror.

My focus, however, is on Raffaele—and the dark stain spreading across the shoulder of his shirt.

Oh god.

I jump to my feet, rushing toward him—only to freeze in my tracks when Isa’s seat suddenly topples backward, sending her crashing to the ground. Our eyes meet, something like horror and understanding passing between us.

I fly forward, dropping to my knees beside my cousin. Her hand is clamped over her neck, where blood is spurting out. I replace her hands with mine, pressing down hard on the gunshot wound. Blood pools from her mouth, and her eyes are wide and wet with tears.

“Isa, hang on. You’ll be fine,” I tell her desperately. “Don’t fucking die on me.”

“Giulia—” she croaks, more blood streaming from her mouth.

“Don’t say a word!” I cry, the back of my eyes burning. “Please, don’t say a word. You’ll be fine. Help is coming, and you’ll be fine. You and the baby will be fine. I promise. I promise you, Isa. Please just?—”

Her hand grips mine tightly, tears slipping down the sides of her face.

“I’m so sorry… I’m really sorry.”

My heart lurches.

“What are you talking about? Isabella, please—now’s not the time to apologize. Save your strength.”

“No. Let me… Giulia, I lied. I d-deserve this.”

“No. Stop. You don’t. You don’t deserve this.”

“There’s no baby,” she whispers, a weak, bitter chuckle breaking from her throat. “I lied. Raffaele never touched me. He was too drunk. He loves you. It’s always been you. Only you.”

Tears blur my vision. I wipe them away with shaking hands.

“Don’t talk, Isa. You’ll be fine. Just hold on.”

“No. I need to say this. That night… he took off his clothes, called me Giulia … but he passed out before anything happened. He was so wasted. Then he just… fell asleep. Please… tell him I’m sorry.”

“No… Isa… you’re going to tell him yourself. You hear me? You’re going to tell him. Just stay with me.”

“Giulia… It’s not just that. I did something worse. I?—”

“Isa…”

“I’m s-so—” She makes one last croaking sound, another jet of blood spilling from her mouth, and then she goes still. Too still.

“Isa! Isa!” I scream. “Wake up! Wake up! I can’t lose you too. Please, don’t do this to me. I’ve already lost too much. Please don’t die on me.”

I don’t even realize I’m screaming—shaking her hard, frantically pressing down on her chest in a useless effort to revive her—until Raffaele pulls me away, holding me as I fall apart in the unyielding safety of his arms.