Page 139 of Broken Mafia Bride

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 toroom 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.