Page 12 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

“Why?” he asks in a neutral voice.

“There was a problem,” I blurt out. “There wasn’t supposed to be anybody in the warehouse according to Emilio’s intel, but there were, and?—”

He hums, cutting me off. “So this is Emilio’s fault?”

“No, Father, but?—”

A maid races into the room, face as white as a sheet. My eyebrows fly up to my hairline, wondering what could be so important that a member of the staff would barge into Father’s study like this.

Father doesn’t interact with the household staff except when he’s balls-deep in them. Every message has to go from one of his men to Emilio and then to him.

“Sir, it’s your wife.” The maid turns teary eyes at me, and I stop breathing.

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask, panic lacing my words.

“I w-walked into the room to g-give her some tea, and I thought she was asleep,” the woman stammers. “Then I noticed the pill bottle and-and…” she trails off, whimpering.

No.

I turn to run to Mother’s room, but Father’s harsh reprimand stops me. “Where do you think you are going? We aren’t done here!”

I stare at him in shock. “Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Your mother is dead by now,” he says coldly. “She’s no longer my problem. You and your failure, on the other hand, are my problem.”

I’ve always known Father is a cold bastard, but I never expected this level of nonchalance. How can he feel nothing at all?

“How can you be such a monster!” I roar, all the emotion I’ve buried under for years bubbling to the surface.

He picks up a cigar. “Sit down, and let’s discuss how you’ll make up for this disgraceful failure.”

My chest feels like it’s caving in at the way he’s managed to brush her aside like she’s nothing. Their whole life together, he treated her like an ornament, and even in death, he still dares to disrespect her.

“You bastard,” I say in a low, furious voice. I feel all the air desert the room as Edoardo rises to his feet and rounds the table, fury sparking in his eyes. The maid spins on her heel and runs off, smart enough to save herself.

“What did you just say to me, boy?”

Warning bells go off in my head, and I know I should backtrack, apologize, do anything but ignite his rage more. “I said that you’re a cruel, heartless bastard who didn’t deserve someone as good as Mother.”

“Your mother was a weak nobody from a family so in debt that they were willing to sell her out to the lowest of scum,” he spat. “I should have known such a weak woman would only be able to give me a weak son.”

“Don’t talk about her like that, you asshole!

” I scream. “She deserved better than an egotistical scumbag like you. You think we’re the reason why you don’t have the entire world eating out of your palm, when in reality, they can all see that beneath your expensive suits and colognes is a rotten, small man who will do anything to get ahead. ”

I know what’s coming next even before it happens, and I allow the blow to glance off the side of my face. I allow myself to feel every second of the pain, because it’s the only thing capable of distracting me from the heart-wrenching hurt of knowing Mother’s gone.

Father raises his hand again, but this time, I feint to the side, dodging the blow.

That’s when I remember that I still have Emilio’s gun. It’s almost like a reflex when I pull it out and hold it to his forehead. Even though I haven’t perfected my aiming, from this distance, it’ll be impossible for me to miss, and we both know it.

“You were always a good shot,” he drawls.

“Fuck you!” I growl. “I don’t want any compliments from you. I want you to go to hell for what you’ve done to her.”

I want to see the fear in his eyes, I want him to look me in the eyes and feel as terrified and as helpless as he’s made Mother and me for years. Instead, amusement makes one corner of his mouth curl up.

“Careful, boy,” he warns, his tone icy. “You’re dangerously close to crossing a line you can’t come back from.”

“I don’t care!” I shout, the fury and grief choking my throat. “She was your wife—my mother! And you act like it’s nothing. What kind of man are you?”

“A man who doesn’t waste time mourning the weak,” he snaps. “And you’d do well to remember that, or you’ll end up just like her.”

The venom in his words stuns me. My fists clench at my sides, and I take a step forward before I can think better of it. His guards, stationed by the door, tense at my movement, but I don’t care. Right now, I feel like I could take on the world—or burn it all down.

“Drop the gun, Raffaele,” a voice comes from behind me, followed by the sound of a gun cocking.

I don’t bother looking around to face Emilio. “He’ll be dead before you shoot.”

“And you’ll go next,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

I’m not stupid enough to think I can kill Father and get out of this house alive. Not with his men everywhere. With Mother dead, though, what do I have to live for? Hazel eyes flash in my head, and I find myself dropping my arm.

Something inside me snaps. For years, I’ve tried to win his approval, to prove myself worthy of being his son. But standing here, with my mother dead and his disdain cutting into me like a blade, I realize I’ll never be enough for him. I’ll always be a disappointment in his eyes.

“You’re not a man,” I say, my voice low but firm. “You’re a monster who destroys everything he touches.”

His eyes narrow dangerously, and I know I’ve gone too far. He stands slowly, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room. “Say that again,” he growls, each word a threat.

But I don’t.

“Coward!” Father roars, his fist coming down on me again and again and again. “You dare to talk back at me, to hold a gun to me? No man has ever held a gun to me and lived.”

I curl up into a ball on the ground as his fists continue to rain on me. I drown out his furious voice, going to a place in my head where Mother is still alive and waiting for me to beat her at another game of chess.

My days of beating her at her own game are over.

“One day the world will be yours, and it’ll be better.” I hear the words as clearly as if she were standing beside me. I allow a single tear for her to fall to the carpet.

Someday the world will be mine , I tell myself.

Someday starts today.

Edoardo’s fists finally stop, but I don’t stop feeling the pain. The numbness spreads through me like a drug, dulling everything but the cold, bitter rage pooling in my chest.

Someday starts today.

He steps back, his breathing ragged as he straightens his suit jacket like he hasn’t just brutalized his own son.

“Clean yourself up,” he spits, his voice dripping with disdain.

“You’re a disgrace, Raffaele. And don’t think for a second that your little rebellion tonight will go unpunished.

You’ll earn back your place in this family—or die trying. ”

I don’t respond. I can’t. My throat feels raw, and my body trembles from the weight of what I’ve endured.

But inside, something is shifting. It’s no longer about surviving his abuse or trying to gain his approval.

It’s about something far more dangerous: taking everything he holds dear and tearing it apart, piece by piece.

As soon as he walks out, Emilio steps closer. His shadow looms over me as I struggle to push myself off the floor. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you, boy.”

“Am I?” I rasp, my voice hoarse and laced with sarcasm. I stagger to my feet, clutching my ribs. “Or is that just what you’d prefer? Why’d you come back anyway?”

Emilio doesn’t respond. Instead, he nods toward the door. “Go clean yourself up. You look like shit.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say bitterly, limping past him. I know he’s loyal to my father, but there’s something in his tone—a sliver of unease—that makes me wonder if he’s starting to see through the cracks in Edoardo’s armor.

I turn and walk out of the study, ignoring the looks of the staff nearby. I’m sure they haven’t stopped wondering since the inception of their employment what sort of hellhole my life is.

My chest heaves as I make my way to my mother’s room.

The door is ajar when I arrive, and the sight inside hits me like a punch to the gut.

The bed is rumpled, the faint smell of her perfume lingering in the air.

On the nightstand, the pill bottle sits, its cap off and its contents spilled across the wood.

Her body is still, her face pale, and there’s a heartbreaking peacefulness in her expression that makes the tears I’ve been holding back finally fall.

My bastard of a father hasn’t even arranged for her body to be taken out.

I sink to my knees beside the bed, my hands trembling as I reach for hers. They’re cold, and the realization crushes me. “I’m so sorry, Mama,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve done something.”

The grief feels unbearable, but beneath it, something else begins to stir—something sharp and unrelenting. Rage. Not the kind of wild anger that burns out quickly, but a cold, calculating inferno. My father will pay for this. For her. For everything.

I stand, wiping my face and glancing around the room one last time. My gaze lands on a framed photo of the two of us, taken years ago before everything went to hell. I slip it into my pocket before leaving the room, my resolve hardening with every step I take.

One way or another, I’ll make sure my father never gets to destroy anyone else’s life. Even if it means tearing down the entire empire he’s built.

The moment I’m alone in my room after arranging for my mother’s body to be taken away, I lock the door and collapse onto the bed, every muscle in my body screaming in protest.

My hand brushes against something in my pocket, and I pull out the framed photo of my mother. Her smile is warm, her eyes full of life, and it feels like a punch to the gut knowing I’ll never see that smile again.

“I’ll make him pay,” I whisper to the photo, my voice trembling. “I’ll make him regret every second he underestimated us. I’ll make the whole world see him for the monster he is.”

But I can’t do it alone. I’ll need allies—people who hate him as much as I do, people who are willing to tear apart his empire brick by brick. And there’s only one person who comes to mind, someone who once told me the world was bigger than this life my father trapped me in.

Giulia.

Hazel eyes flash in my mind again, and for the first time in years, I feel a flicker of hope. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll even talk to me, but if I’m going to take down Edoardo, I need to start somewhere.

“Someday starts today,” I repeat to myself one last time. My father thinks he’s invincible, but I’ll prove him wrong. The world will be mine. And I’ll make sure he lives long enough to see it crumble around him.

But first, I’m going to find her.