Page 89 of Broken Mafia Bride

But Raffaele cuts him off before the argument can escalate into a full-blown shouting match—one I know will end the way it always does: with me doing what I was going to do anyway.

When it comes to my daughter, no one gets to tell me how to bring her home.

If I have to find Nelly myself, I will. I don’t care.

“Giulia can come with us,” Raffaele says firmly. “I’ve seen what she can do—she’ll be an asset. And she’s right—no one else can identify the kidnapper the way she can.”

Lucio swings his dark brown eyes over to my father, looking for some support, but my father merely shrugs, causing the older man’s face to harden into granite. Finally, he faces Raffaele.

“Bring my granddaughter back in one piece. I’m not losing any other family. You hear me?”

With a nod, Raffaele walks out of the room, and I trail after him.

Since that night—since our conversation—I’ve done everything I can to keep my distance. It’s been torture, knowing he’s under the same roof, sometimes even in the same room… and I can’t bring myself to look at him.

I can’t reconcile who we were before I was kidnapped with who we are now.

It feels surreal. Foreign. Like someone pressed pause on one life and resumed another I barely recognize.

I hurry upstairs to change into jeans and a T-shirt, something I can move in.

By the time I reach the courtyard, the SUV is already rolling forward. I pull the door open and slip into the back seat.

Raffaele doesn’t say a word—he just hands me a Glock, silent and sure.

“Even though Re Ombra controls most of the island,” the man in the passenger seat says, turning slightly, “the lower side has its own rules. Its own code. It’s a hellhole, to be blunt. And if we go in there, grabbing one of their own, there’s a high chance it’ll get messy. So stay sharp. Even the most innocent-looking kid down there would stab you without blinking.”

I stare at him, stunned.

Sienna’s voice echoes in my mind: “This place may look like paradise, but underneath the colorful paint is the dark and the ugly.”

Now, I believe her.

I tighten my grip around the gun as the whitewashed buildings with their terracotta roofs fade into unpainted concrete, crumbling roads, and sagging zinc rooftops. Even without the visual shift, it’s obvious something’s changed. The air out here smells of rot and desperation, and everything feels dimmer—like the sunlight can’t be bothered to reach this part of the island.

Finally, the car comes to a halt, and the driver cuts the engine.

“We’re here.”

The building in front of us is just as run-down as the rest—peeling paint, cracked walls, a ghost of what it might have once been. Two teenage boys sit slouched on the broken front steps, watching us with quiet curiosity as we pass.

It’s been a long time since I last handled a weapon, and the gun feels foreign in my hand—familiar but distant. As we step into the building, a prickling sensation crawls up the back of my neck—that eerie, unmistakable feeling of being watched. I glance over my shoulders and don’t see anyone. The teenage boys are more focused on the cigars they’re now sucking on.

Swallowing, I clutch the gun tighter, knuckles turning white from the force of my grip.

As if he can feel my nervousness, Raffaele glances over at me, catching my eye. “Are you all right?”

I tear my eyes away, gaze fixed at a point behind him. “I’m fine.”

He comes to a halt, staring at me with a worried frown, but I push past him, ignoring the concern written on his face. I don’t need his concern. I don’t need him treating me like I’m on the verge of falling apart. I need to be strong right now.

“There’s something here,” one of Lucio’s men calls.

I take off, following the sound of his voice to a tiny kitchen. The kettle is still hot, still warm from use, and the ancient fridge in the corner is humming away. I open it and see a few canned foods and a bag of apples.

There’s a place setting for one on the tiny table shoved into the other corner of the kitchen. Nelly’s been here—very recently. She might even still be nearby.

I cock my gun, and the sound is echoed by the others. We’ve all come to the same conclusion.