Page 50 of Broken Mafia Bride (His to Break #2)

GIULIA

“ W hat is it, Mama?” My daughter blinks up at me.

She’s so pure and innocent, and I feel sick at what I’m about to make her do. But if we want to get out of here, there’s no other choice. I grip her shoulders, holding her gaze.

“We’re going to play a game,” I tell her with a pasted-on smile. “You know how you were the mom in the class play?”

She nods slowly, looking unsure of where I’m headed.

“Today, we’re going to play something similar.” I glance over at the door, eyeing it, then at the uneven grooves on the wall. This has to work. I have one shot at this, and if it fails, I’m not sure what else I’m going to do.

“We’re going to pretend that I’ve just swallowed a bottle of laundry soap.”

Noemi makes a face. “That’ll make your tummy hurt so bad.”

I laugh. “I know, right? So that’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to pretend that my tummy hurts so bad. It’s so bad that I’m throwing up, and there’s a lot of blood too.”

I’m not surprised when she doesn’t make a face. My daughter has always been stoic about things like that. The first time she fell and scraped her knee, she walked up to me in the kitchen and pointed at her knee. She hadn’t cried or pouted.

Sienna has mentioned more than once that there’s a possibility she’s on the spectrum. None of that matters now, though. The most important thing is our escape, and I need to drive home how crucial this is to our survival.

“Look, baby,” I tell her, brushing a lock of her curly, dark hair away from her face. “This is really important. You need to put on your best act so we can get out of this room and go meet Ra—Marco,” I correct myself immediately.

Raffaele and I might have fixed things between us, but Noemi still has no idea who he is. I was supposed to have the talk about who her real father is and why he’s not a part of her life with her before she was taken away from me.

But this is the wrong time and place.

“Marco is out there?” she asks, excitement bleeding into her voice.

I nod, hoping she’ll forgive me later for the lie. “Yes, and he’s waiting for us. So are you ready to play the game and help get us out of here?”

Noemi nods rapidly, a smile blooming on her face. This should better work. If not…

I don’t even want to think about what will happen if it doesn’t.

With no time to waste, I grab the nearest groove in the wall and pull myself up, muscles straining. I’m heavier than I was back in Chicago, and I’ve long since fallen out of the rigorous training routine I used to follow, so the climb is much harder than I expected.

But I grit my teeth and bear it. Sweat pours down my body, blinding me as I finally grab the final groove, biceps burning.

“Now,” I whisper down to Noemi.

She stares at me, mouth gaping open. “You’re just like Spider-Man.”

“I know, honey,” I tell her, trying not to let the impatience bleed through my voice. “It’s time for you to do what we talked about.”

Nodding, she rushes toward the metal door and starts banging on it with her little fist. “Help! Help us!” she screams, voice shrill and a little shaky with terror.

I’m taken aback by the level of emotion in her childish voice. Of course, I know my kid is smart and her school play was beautiful, but this is simply brilliant. It’s almost like she knows what’s at stake here.

“Please! It’s my mama. Her puke has blood in it!” she cries, sounding on the verge of tears. I almost jump down to comfort her.

She keeps banging on the door, screaming for help. I’m starting to think the plan’s a flop when I hear the sound of heavy footsteps rushing toward us. I hold my breath and press myself tighter against the wall, just to the side of the door.

There’s the sound of keys rattling just before the door bursts open and two of Lucio’s men rush in. I leap down from my perch against the wall, elbow slamming into the back of one man’s head. He grunts in pain, stumbling forward and reaching for his gun—too slow. I grab it first.

Unfortunately, I can’t use the weapon. A gunshot would draw too much attention.

“Honey, close your eyes and ears for Mama, just for a minute,” I tell my daughter, my eyes never leaving the two men.

They charge toward me, but I’m ready. I smash the butt of the gun into the side of one man’s head, and he crumples. I shift to the side, narrowly dodging the other man’s fist. Grabbing his wrist, I twist it backward—his bones shatter with a sickening crack.

He starts to scream, but I’m quicker. I shove the gun into his mouth and wrap my arm around his neck, locking my feet as he thrashes and claws. I hold tight until he stops breathing.

Panting hard, I face Noemi. Her palms are over her ears, and her eyes are squeezed shut.

I drop down to the ground and grab a gun and knife off the dead man, before crossing the room to grab my daughter. “Come on, baby, let’s get out of here.”

She blinks her eyes open. “To Uncle Marco?”

“Yeah.” I lift her into my arms, covering her eyes with my palm until we’re out of the room and away from the fallen men.

I hurry down the dimly lit hallway, Noemi clinging to me in silence. I’m relieved she’s not freaking out. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to manage her being hysterical on top of executing this escape plan.

I’m lucky not to run into any more of Lucio’s men as I hurry down the hall.

Judging by the layout of the walls, we’re still in the main house, not far from Lucio’s study—but this part looks completely different.

I wonder if Val is close by. I finally burst out of the hallway, only to find four more guards fanning out from every corner.

What the actual fuck?

I glance around in confusion, wondering which way to go now.

That’s when I hear footsteps approaching us. Gasping, I slip back into the hallway, stepping behind a wall at the corner.

“I thought Uncle Marco was?—”

I shake my head, wide-eyed, pressing my finger to my mouth, indicating to Noemi to be quiet. She nods, her blue eyes wide with fear.

“What was that?” one of the men asks.

“I don’t know,” another one says impatiently. “Might be a rat or something. Whatever. The boss says we should head to room twenty-six, east corner. He’s got Mr. Gagliardi—we caught him trying to free Miss Caterina upstairs—and he says you and Johnny should keep an eye on him.”

Oh god. My stomach churns. Lucio has Raffaele. Who knows what he’ll do to him? He won’t hesitate to get rid of him. I have to save him. No one else will.

“Sure,” the first guy says, and I hear retreating footsteps.

I take a step away from the wall I’m positioned behind, but I don’t spot the broken bottle pieces on the floor until I’ve stepped on them. I freeze as the crunching sound echoes down the hall.

“That was definitely something,” one of the men snaps, rushing toward our hiding spot.

I drop Noemi. “Stay here. Don’t move, and close your eyes again for me, baby. Imagine that we’re at the ice cream stand.”

She looks terrified, and guilt rushes through me. It’s all my fault that she’s going through this crap. If I’d just been brave enough to contact Raffaele after I regained my memories, maybe we would have disappeared from this world and all the evil here.

We could have been on the beach side right now with a dog, like she’s always wanted.

But then again, now that I know Lucio has been pulling the strings from day one, I’m beginning to think we would’ve been just as much in danger in Chicago as anywhere else in the world. Not even putting an ocean between us would’ve saved us from Lucio’s insane plans.

Ending this once and for all is for the best. Once we finally get rid of Lucio, we can live the life we’ve always wanted—without constantly looking over our shoulders. So maybe, at the end of the day, everything really does happen for a reason.

I spot a half-empty whiskey bottle on the ground and pick it up. Just as the first guy rounds the corner, I lash out, smashing the bottle into the man’s head.

He grunts in pain, staggering back. I quickly pull out the gun I took from the guard before, but the other man is faster, grabbing my hand and swiping the gun away before I can turn it on him.

It flies across the room. A fist smashes against my face, throwing me backward.

The knife I hooked to my clothes falls mid-air as well.

Noemi makes a whimpering sound, but her eyes are still shut.

“Grab the kid,” one of them barks.

Over my dead body.

Growling in fury, I jump to my feet, grabbing some of the shards of glass. They cut into my hands, but I’m numb to the pain. My heart is pounding too fast, fear and fury warring inside me. I’m done letting these assholes mess with my kid.

As one of the men rushes for her, I throw the shards of glass at his face with a roar.

He screams, clawing at his face. I go in with two punches—one to his solar plexus and the other to the side of his stomach, targeting his kidneys, where it’ll hurt the most. He falls to his knees just in time for the other one to lunge toward me.

My fists fly at his face, catching him with an uppercut that throws him off balance. His teeth bared in an angry snarl, he comes at me again. I’m too slow to dodge the blow he sends my way, and it ends up glancing off the side of my face, splitting a patch of skin there.

Before I can process what’s happening, his foot sweeps in an arc, taking me down to the ground.

Noemi lets out a small, terrified sound, and from the corner of my eye, I can see that she’s shaking.

Damn it. I can’t let this bastard kill me off. Noemi, Raffaele, and probably Valentina are all depending on me. I spy the broken bottle from earlier a few paces away. A smug smile tugs at the man’s mouth.

He lunges for me, and I move with lightning-fast speed, grabbing the bottle and slashing it through the air.

The man grabs his neck, a gurgling sound escaping his throat as blood gushes from the wound.

Crawling away from the blood pooling beneath him, I leap to my feet, wiping my bloody hands on the side of my pants.

I grab Noemi and hurry away. She clings to me even tighter, shaking and whimpering. I blink back the tears threatening my vision and press on. The hallway I slip into is quiet, and all the rooms I search are empty.

The last door at the end of the hallway is the only one that’s shut. Heart pounding, I slide back the bolt and throw the door open, spotting Valentina curled up in one corner.

“Val!” I cry, about to step into the room.

“Giulia, no!” she screams, just as I feel something press against the middle of my back.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you,” a cold voice warns from behind me, and I go deathly still.

Oh god.