Page 97 of Broken Mafia Bride

I reel back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Caterina shakes her head. “This whole ‘letting him go’ bullshit you’re doing won’t win you any awards. It’s obvious Raffaele is in love with you—and if I’m not mistaken, you feel the same way.”

“You’re—”

She doesn’t let me speak. We both know my denial would be a lie anyway.

“So tell me—why aren’t you two together right now?”

“It’s complicated.”

Caterina makes a buzzing sound. “Try again.”

I shoot her a stern look. “He’s with Isa now, and she’s my cousin. She’s carrying his child. I don’t want to come between them.”

“I don’t know if you remember, but not only did you carry his child—you gave birth to it and everything,” she points out. “If you’re going by that logic, you two should’ve been married the second he stepped foot in Casa Bianca. So tell me the real reason you’re not the one trying to feed him an apple right now.”

“She’s trying to feed him an apple? He hates apples.”

She glances over my shoulder, toward where I assume my cousin and Raffaele are seated.

“I feel bad for her, honestly. For both of you, if I’m being honest.”

I shrug. “They’re engaged. There’s nothing anyone can do now.”

Caterina tuts. “I never took you for a quitter, Giulia. Until they say I do, you still have a chance to fix this. I’d hate to see you unhappy and full of regret because you didn’t take this chance.”

“I may not know much more than the little my Pepe told me about you two, but the way that man looks at you—like he’s two seconds away from ripping your clothes off and taking you like a barbarian,” she continues.

“Caterina!” I gasp, outraged.

“I’m not lying, and you know it,” she says. “I wasn’t privileged enough to choose the life I ended up with. A lot of us aren’t. We just roll with whatever fate hands us because we don’t have much of a choice. It’s rare for a woman in this life to choose the life she wants.

“But you—you’re the kind of woman who doesn’t just let her fate be decided for her. You actually go after what you want and achieve it. You’re so badass, Giulia. And that’s why it makes no sense to me that you’re just letting things be now.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh. “My priority is Noemi.”

“I know that,” she says. “She should be your priority. But you better think twice about using her as an excuse?—”

The sound of a gunshot cuts her off.

For a split second, no one moves. Then chaos erupts.

“Lock down the house! Nobody gets in or out!” Pepe roars, racing out with his gun drawn. The other men follow, while the women scream in terror.

My focus, however, is on Raffaele—and the dark stain spreading across the shoulder of his shirt.

Oh god.

I jump to my feet, rushing toward him—only to freeze in my tracks when Isa’s seat suddenly topples backward, sending her crashing to the ground. Our eyes meet, something like horror and understanding passing between us.

I fly forward, dropping to my knees beside my cousin. Her hand is clamped over her neck, where blood is spurting out. I replace her hands with mine, pressing down hard on the gunshot wound. Blood pools from her mouth, and her eyes are wide and wet with tears.

“Isa, hang on. You’ll be fine,” I tell her desperately. “Don’t fucking die on me.”

“Giulia—” she croaks, more blood streaming from her mouth.

“Don’t say a word!” I cry, the back of my eyes burning. “Please, don’t say a word. You’ll be fine. Help is coming, and you’ll be fine. You and the baby will be fine. I promise. I promise you, Isa. Please just?—”