Page 116 of Broken Mafia Bride

He snorts. “You’re boring.”

I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think about his own brand of fun, but just then, Giulia steps out from the side of the house and into view. A smile starts to tug at my lips—until I spot the man beside her. The smile vanishes instantly, replaced by a murderous glare.

I really didn’t think I’d ever have to see the fucking fisherman for the rest of my life, but here he is. And the worst part is that Giulia is staring up at him with a small smile that is supposed to be directed at me. What the hell is the fisherman saying that’s so damn amusing anyway?

My hands ball into fists at my sides. That asshole has about five seconds to get lost before I make him regret the?—

“Why the hell are you growling? Is the air at Casa Bianca reverting you back into your neanderthal form?” I jerk in surprise at the sound of Matteo’s voice on the phone.

“Later, Matteo.” I hang up before he can say anything else. I have bigger fish to fry than my father dragging our family name through the mud and grinding it in for good measure. At this rate, by the time this damn war is over, the Gagliardi name will be worth less than a piece of candy.

I unclench my fingers and roll my shoulders, trying to work out the tension in my body, but the move somehow only succeeds in making me more tense.

Gritting my teeth, I march across the stone pathway to where the two are talking. My eyebrows climb up when neither of them notices me until I’m standing right before them. What the hell are they talking about that is so important anyway? Now that things have shifted between Giulia and me, whatever was between them should be over.

“Raffaele, you’re?—”

I wrap a hand around her waist and pull her into me, slanting my mouth over hers and cutting off the rest of her words. She melts into me, hands fisting the front of my shirt and pulling me tighter into her.

A moan rumbles at the back of her throat, causing satisfaction to roar through me. Only then do I let go of her. Her lips are swollen and wet, and her hazel eyes are unfocused. I smile down at her.

“Hey, baby.”

“H-hey,” she stammers, an answering smile curving her mouth.

A throat clears, breaking the moment between us. I lazily turn my head to face the fisherman. He raises one eyebrow at me, as if he can see through my act and knows exactly what I’m playing at.

I don’t care either way.

What matters is that Giulia is mine. I don’t care if I’m acting childish by making a public show of claiming her like this. I’d tattoo my name all over her skin if I could. I want the whole world—starting with Marco—to know who she belongs to.

“Raffaele.” He nods at me in greeting.

“Ah, Marty. I didn’t see you there,” I reply.

His jaw clenches. “It’s Marco, but I’m sure you know that. And you have to be blind to not have seen me here.”

I slide my hands from Giulia’s back up to the back of her neck, where I brush the backs of my knuckles against her flesh. She shivers, leaning closer into me.

“I have tunnel vision for Giulia,” I tell him with a shit-eating grin.

At my side, Giulia pinches me in a reprimand. I know I’m being an asshole, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I don’t understand why the fisherman is here. Do I need to have a conversation with him similar to the one I had with Emilio?

The more I think about it, the better it sounds.

“See you later, Ariel,” Marco eventually says. His eyes meet mine for a second, a glint of mischief in them. Before I can stop him, he’s pressed a kiss to Giulia’s temple.

I take a single threatening step forward, but he’s already spinning on his heels and walking away, hands tucked into his pocket and head held low.

“You didn’t have to be such a dick to him,” Giulia sighs, wrapping her hands around my neck with a small smile.

“He kissed you,” I point out, resisting the urge to go after him and rearrange his face.

She rolls her eyes at me like I’m being ridiculous. “That doesn’t even count.”

I grip her by the hip, lifting her into the air and walking to an obscure part of the house. She lets out a startled squeal, her thighs fastening around my hips to keep herself in place. My body is already buzzing with need, need to claim her, need to remind her that she’s mine in every way.

I have no idea how I survived so long without her, because every day since I got her back, I feel like I’m buzzing out of my skin when I don’t have my hands on her.