Page 91 of Broken Mafia Bride

I look up at him through blurry vision. “It’s my fault, Raffaele. All of this is my fault.”

His arms engulf me, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s not your fault, you could never have known.”

“I’m a bad mom.”

The tears won’t come, and I’m starting to feel… disconnected.

I’ve never touched drugs in my life, but I imagine this is what it must feel like—floating somewhere above the room, above the noise, untethered.

And I know it won’t last. Sooner or later, I’ll crash back to earth.

And when I do, it’s going to be messy.

“Hey, hey, don’t say that. You are an amazing mother, Giulia.” He cups my jaw in his large hands. “You’re here, and you’re fighting for Noemi. You’re not a bad mom.”

The words are soft, breathy assurances—but they bounce right off the shield I’ve wrapped around myself like a second skin.

I’m a terrible mom. And deep down, I can’t shake the feeling that I somehow manifested this.

I remember being so exhausted when Noemi was a baby, so frustrated when she wouldn’t stop crying.

I remember wishing—just for a moment—that she would disappear, just long enough for me to get some sleep. Just a few hours of quiet.

And now she’s gone.

I, of course, always felt guilty right after having the thought, but that doesn’t change anything.

“We’ll find her. I’ll do everything I can to help bring her back.”

And then—without warning—his lips brush against mine.

I jerk back instantly, my mind snapping to the present like a rubber band.

Staring at him, slack-jawed, all I can feel is the shock rattling through me.

That kiss should be in the dictionary beside the definition of worst timing and things that are better off not happening.

“You don’t just get to do that, Raffaele.” My voice comes out icy cold. “You don’t get to kiss me like you own me.”

“For god’s sake, Giulia, I was just trying to comfort you. You looked like you were having a mental breakdown,” he grits out.

“Thank you for being so chivalrous,” I scoff. “But I don’t need you to be my knight in shining armor. Not anymore. I’ve got this. I don’t need you to comfort me. I don’t need anything from you anymore.”

“Giulia, I’m sorry.”

I raise a hand to stop him.

“When I said we were done, I meant it. I appreciate your help finding Noemi, but that’s all we have in common now. Just a shared need to bring back our missing child.”

My voice hardens.

“Beyond that, there’s nothing between us. And I fucking mean it.”

With one last growl, I start to turn away—but stop at the last second.

“Go home to your pregnant fiancée, Raffaele. Just leave me alone. Leave me the fuck out of this mess you created.”

This time, when I walk away, I don’t look back. Because if I do, I might not leave at all.