Page 125 of Broken Mafia Bride

What if we’re wrong? What if Pepe lied? What if this is all just some sick, elaborate mistake?

My fingers curl around the object in my hand, grounding me. The truth is right there, cold and solid against my palm. The doubt vanishes.

Heknowsexactly what I’m talking about.

And suddenly, I realize I’m looking at the real Lucio Sanna.

The mask is gone. And god, he’s been wearing it so well… for months, maybe years.

Hasanyoneever really seen him? Or just the version he wants them to see?

And now that I’ve seen beneath it?—

Will he evenletme walk away?

I take a careful step backward, and a dark smile crawls across his mouth at the move. Terror rises—dark, cloying, and suffocating. He’s suddenly imposingly tall, large and looming. He looks decades younger—stronger, more agile.

“You should have gone along with the script I had for you, Giulia,” he drawls. “You just had to be so goddamn stubborn.”

“Burn in hell,bastardo!” I snarl.

His eyes darken.

“If Enrico had never stolen Eleanora from me, you wouldn’t have turned out like this,” he snaps. “Look at you—unmarried with a child out of wedlock, foul-mouthed. You’re a disgrace to my name.”

The fury rising in me burns hotter. “A disgrace?” I choke out. “You fucking kidnapped my daughter!”

I take a step forward, voice shaking with rage.

“If I’m so beneath you, why the hell have you been watching us? Following us? Why not just leave us the hell alone?”

“Noemi is my blood!” he roars. “It’s my duty to protect her. If I left her with you, she’d end up just like you—weak, ungrateful, broken.” His face twists with disgust as he drags his gaze over me. “I did what had to be done. I saved her.”

“You’re a monster,” I spit. “You have no right. She’s mine—and I want her back.”

He leans in, voice low and venomous.

“I won’t let you ruin her. One day, you’ll thank me.”

I blink at him, lost for words. It’s even worse than I thought—Lucio isn’t just evil; he’s sick. His obsession with control, with playing God and molding the world into his idea of paradise, has driven him mad. This is probably what he wanted for my mother too. No wonder she left with my father.

“She’s safe with me,” he continues. “She’ll never know war; she’ll be loved, cared for, and when the time is right, she’ll have a family to protect her. Face it, Giulia—your daughter is in safer hands with me than she’d ever be with you.”

I swallow, feeling sick. There’s no reasoning with this madman. “I want to see my daughter. Please, let me see her.”

He shakes his head, mouth pressed into a thin line. “If you want to see her again, you have to stay here in Sardegna and do exactly as I say. Until I’m convinced you won’t be a bad influence on her, you’ll never see her again.”

“Tell me, Grandfather,” I grit out. “What really happened to Mama and Val that day on the cliff?”

He lets out a slow breath, eyes flicking with something like regret.

“Things went wrong—I know that,” he says quietly. “Eleanora meant everything to me. I never wanted it to end like that. But you know what they say—if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” he snaps.

“But why?—”