Page 83 of Broken Mafia Bride

Maybe I’m just standing in the way of something that’s already unfolding, whether I like it or not.

This isn’t something I ever imagined having to face. Not in my worst-case scenarios, not even in my quietest fears. I thought the hardest part would be finding our way back to each other… not having to question if we even still have a place together.

And now Isabella’s telling me she’ll walk away from him if I ask her to. Just like that. As if it’s that simple.

But it’s not. Because asking her to leave means asking her to raise a child alone. To carry the weight of that choice—of that life—without the father of her child beside her. And no matter what’s happened between us, I don’t know if I can live with myself if I’m the reason that happens.

“It’s a surprise,” Marco’s words bring me back to the present.

I glance over my shoulder and spot a familiar pub. I’ve only been to Marco’s house in Sardegna once, and even though the location is a bit unfamiliar now, I clearly remember the pub where I was served the best beer on earth.

“Your house is the surprise?” I ask.

He laughs, turning the bike into a corner. The force of his turn causes me to lurch forward, and I have to wrap my arms around him, hanging on tight.

“You’re going to get us killed,” I shout over the roaring wind, trying to stay calm—but all I get in response is another burst of laughter.

When we finally pull over in front of his house, he glances over his shoulder at me with a smile. “We weren’t going that fast. I know these roads like the back of my hand, and I’d never do anything to put you in harm’s way.”

I step down from the bike, grumbling. “Remind me never to let you take me on a ride on this death trap again.”

“Hey! This bike belonged to my favorite uncle. It survived three fires and a flood.”

“I can tell. It looks like it’s begging to be put out of its misery.”

“I restored it last summer.”

I glance over the bike, which looks like a bunch of rusty spare parts cobbled together. I don’t know how it hasn’t coughed up its last smoke and given up the ghost already. If I hadn’t been so desperate to run away from the guilt shining in Raffaele’s eyes, I would never have gone anywhere near the bike.

“You restored that… thing?”

He slaps the back seat with a grin. “Yeah, the only thing left is to paint it, and it’ll be as good as new. What do you think?”

“I think you should stick to being a fisherman,” a familiar voice snorts from behind me.

I whirl around in shock. “Sienna?”

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” Marco snipes.

The red-haired doctor is leaning against the doorway, wearing a soft smile and looking exhausted, but somehow still radiant. “Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come over here and give me a hug?”

My feet move before my brain has the chance to catch up, and I’m flying forward, a smile splitting my face, and at the same time, a sob rises in my throat.

Sienna’s arms open wide a second before I crash into her, and I’m suddenly wrapped in warmth. Even though she’s a small woman, she gives the best hugs, arms tightening around you until you’re almost breathless, but somehow, it still feels like you’re being cocooned in a safe haven.

“Hey there, Ariel.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I sob into her neck.

She pulls away a little, eyes meeting mine. “Of course I’m here. You’ve been avoiding me. Did you think I was going to stay across the ocean and let you be miserable alone?”

I wipe my runny nose with the back of my hands and glance over her shoulders. “What about the kids? Who’s taking care of them? And?—”

She waves a hand with a grin. “The kids are great, but I’m here for you.”

I laugh. “Are they here?”

“One of the twins almost successfully snuck into my suitcase,” she informs me with a smile, but a second later, her expression turns serious. “I couldn’t bring them. I don’t know how long I can stay, and it’d have been difficult to?—”