Page 66 of Broken Mafia Bride

“It’s not too late for us,” he repeats. “We can still have the life we’ve always wanted, the life we’ve envisioned. I still want that life, Giulia. Don’t you want it anymore?”

“I’d always want it. I’d always want that life with you,” I tell him honestly.

“Then let’s go. What’s really stopping us? What’s really keeping us here?” he asks. “Remember Thailand? All those beautiful places we read about. The island, sitting by the sea, just you and I. We would never have to see the endless chaos, the drugs, the violence, the betrayal.”

There’s a pause. “Our… Noemi will love it there.”

I appreciate that he doesn’t call herourdaughter—not because I don’t want him in her life, but because there’s still a part of me that isn’t comfortable with the idea of him showing up and instantly claiming his place as her father.

Maybe it’s unfair. But I want him to prove hewantsto be a father.

Talking about it is one thing. Actuallybeinga parent is something else entirely.

There were so many moments when I broke down in tears because I couldn’t get Noemi to breastfeed, or stop crying, or fall asleep. I thought I was strong—until I had a fragile baby whose entire survival depended on me.

I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d had to go through it completely alone.

“You’re engaged,” I remind him, my heart squeezing.

“I’ll call everything off right this second. I don’t care about it, Giulia.”

What if? What if…

I shake my head, pushing away the voice in my head that’s telling me to grab this opportunity with both hands and never let it go. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” His voice is sharp with frustration. “Because of that damn fisherman?”

“It has nothing to do with him!” I cry. “We aren’t even together.”

“I saw the picture on the mantle and the way he talks about you,” Raffaele spits out the words. “Does Noemi think he’s her father?”

“Of course not!” I snap. “And I don’t feel that way about him. There has never been anything between us.” If I had managed to find a way to feel for Marco even half of what I feel for Raffaele, my life would have been so much easier.

“So you can, but you just won’t,” he bites out. “Come on, Giulia, what’s really your excuse this time? There’s nothing stopping us. We have a child together. I want us to be a real family. I’ve missed so much already, and I don’t want to miss more.”

My mouth presses into a thin line. “Isabella?—”

“She’s known from the start that I feel nothing for her,” he cuts in. “It’s always been you. It will always be you.”

Yes, say yes, everything inside of me is chanting, but I hesitate. “Raffaele, there’s something you need to know?—”

Before I can say another word, my bedroom door swings open, and Isabella steps in, her eyes quickly scanning the scene.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asks.

I begin to say no, but my focus shifts to Raffaele. I watch his face harden with resolution, and then he begins to turn away from me.

It must be years of knowing him—knowing him so deeply that it feels like our souls are entwined—that allows me to read him now.

I know what he’s about to do, and I can’t let him do it.

He might not feel anything for Isabella, but he can’t just call off the wedding. I’ve been gone—twice—and I’m sure somethingformed between them. A connection. An intimate friendship born from two people sharing one loss. And being ditched after announcing her engagement would be humiliating for any girl.

Not to mention the two families. This union between Raffaele and Isabella is the only thing holding off another war. If there’s any chance of bringing my daughter back to Chicago, I have to let this feud die—even if it means giving up the man I love.

The man I’ve always loved.

“Isabella, we need to talk.” Raffaele’s voice is toneless.