Page 19 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

GIULIA

“ W hat have you done this time, Papa!” I growl, slamming the door to his office open and storming in.

He looks up from the ledger he’s scribbling in, his green eyes narrowing, his gaze as cold as ever. “You’re back.”

“I almost didn’t make it back, and I have a feeling you’re the reason why,” I snap, my voice rising in anger. “Why else would the Gagliardis hire someone to shoot me in broad daylight, if not for your damn scheming?”

Despite all the tension and years of pent-up frustration and rage toward my father, I’ve never actually spoken to him like this.

It’s always been cold indifference, pretending that I don’t care.

I’d keep it bottled up, playing the game of pretending not to care.

I’d throw out subtle jabs and let my silence do the talking. But not today.

Today, I’m not holding back.

I’m not just furious.

I’m fucking livid. And I know it’s all his fault.

He shrugs, glancing back at his ledger like this is just another normal day. “That family is made up of psychopaths. I’m not surprised they tried to harm you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, staring down at the back of his head, the shock in me outweighing everything else. “Are you kidding me? I almost got shot, and this is all you have to say?!”

“We’ll have an appropriate response to their attack as soon as I?—”

I can’t stand it. I snatch the ledger right out of his hands and grab the steel lighter from his desk, holding it up like it might finally get his attention. “Are you going to speak to me like an adult, or do I need to start acting insane before you take me seriously?”

His lips tighten into a thin, almost mechanical line, and he looks between me and the ledger in my hand.

I can see him weighing something in his mind.

He knows I’m not joking, that I’m not going to let this go without a fight.

Finally, his eyes lock onto mine, cold as marble, but now with a flicker of recognition—of respect, maybe?

“Okay, I’m listening.”

I don’t hesitate. “I was targeted under Edoardo Gagliardi’s orders,” I spit. “I’m not part of whatever vendetta you’ve been carrying on, and I sure as hell don’t want to be a pawn in your war.”

His face hardens, as if he’s turned to stone, before returning to normal.

“Stop being dramatic, Giulia. You’re stronger than you think.

I know you can handle any situation. That’s why I paid for all those strength and survival training sessions over the years—you’re practically better trained than a soldier. ”

“Oh, so you made a good investment, then. Moving forward with your schemes, knowing that I’ll be just fine. So, how much longer is this going to go on, Papa? When will it end?”

“Not until every last one of them is six feet under.”

I freeze. “What?”

He rises to his feet, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his gaze unblinking. “I’m this close to destroying everyone who took my family from me. And I won’t stop until I’ve wiped them all out. There’s new evidence about the Echelon Syndicate and?—”

“The Echelon Syndicate ?” I cry out, my voice breaking with disbelief. “Papa, they’re way too powerful for you to go after them. It’s a suicide mission.”

The Echelon Syndicate isn’t just another criminal group.

It’s a union of the most ruthless crime families across the globe, a shadow empire that has terrorized governments and businesses alike.

They’re untouchable. Even the world’s strongest powers feared them.

So, what in god’s name was my father thinking, trying to go after a group like that?

“Papa, please,” I whisper. “You’re going to destroy everything.”

He blinks at me, his eyes cold, distant, a far cry from the man I once loved.

I search his face for any sign of the father I knew, but all I see is a hollow shell of a man, consumed by his need for vengeance.

I wonder if he’ll even know how to live once he’s destroyed everything in his path. If he makes it out alive, that is.

And god, I don’t even know if I’ll make it out of this alive.

When he finally looks at me again, a small, distressed cry slips from my throat. “Destroy everything? What’s left?”

I stand there, feeling the weight of those words.

I realize, with a sickening clarity, that I’ll never reach him.

I’ll never convince him to stop. The people he’s fighting for would have wanted him to move on, to live.

I remember how Mama screamed at me to run when she knew it was too late for her.

Her last wish for me was to survive, to live.

She would have wanted him to survive, too.

“What about me?” I croak, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if your vendetta drags me down with the men you’re so desperate to bury?”

“I told you you’d be fine, Giulia,” he mutters, not even looking up.

I scoff bitterly. Fine? I wasn’t fine years ago when I was dragged out of the girls’ bathroom at school by masked men and nearly burned alive in the gym.

I got away unscathed, but not all the students were as lucky.

My father’s revenge doesn’t just put him at risk—it threatens to take everyone else down with him.

“Papa—”

He cuts me off with a dismissive wave. “If you’re so worried about your safety, there’s no one you’d be safer with than Luca.”

My face twists in disgust. My father always finds a way to bring him into every conversation, and I’m fed up with it. Luca Cozzoli and I have been dating for two years, but every time I’m around him, I feel like I’m suffocating.

I don’t even know why I’m still with that obnoxious asshole. Fine, we are betrothed to each other, but he’s a cocky, arrogant loudmouth—and every moment spent with him makes me wish I could take a fork to my eye… or his, honestly, I don’t care.

I know what he’s after. He’s been sweet-talking me and playing the gentleman, all in hopes that one day, I’ll give in and put out. Well, he can wait until his hair turns gray. I’m never letting that man touch me.

My type isn’t egotistical trust fund kids, it’s dark-haired, blue-eyed men with?—

My thoughts come to a screeching halt when I realize the direction they’re going in.

“Luca is?—”

I don’t let him finish. I won’t listen to another word of his praise for that pompous ass. If Luca is so wonderful, he can have him. “Here’s your ledger,” I snap, throwing it back at him. Without waiting for another word, I whirl around and storm out of the room before he can say anything else.

The whole reason I flew out to Vegas was because Luca promised me a weekend I’d never forget. Well, he was right about that. I won’t ever forget spending an entire night watching him get drunk, ogle and paw every woman in sight, and then pass out in the back of our ride like a pathetic mess.

Isa is going to have a field day when I tell her.

Hours later, I’m sitting across from my cousin, who’s doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach as tears streak down her face. I recount the entire disaster of my weekend, and her laughter rings through the room.

“Oh my god, this is gold,” she wheezes.

“If this is gold, then I don’t even want to know what shit is.” I groan, reaching for the bottle of wine. She slaps my hand away with a finger pointed at me. I shoot her a dirty look. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not old enough to drink,” she says sternly.

I grin back at her. “I clearly remember you getting me drunk on my sixteenth. Besides, if I’m old enough to almost get shot by a Gagliardi assassin, I’m definitely old enough to have a drink.”

“I’ll give you a pass tonight.” Isa winks at me. “Don’t remind me how young you are. Ugh.”

I stick out my tongue at her.

“Go to hell,” she retorts with a laugh. Isa just turned legal to drink ten days ago, but she’s been sneaking drinks for years. She’s hardly in a position to lecture me about alcohol.

Her gaze shifts to my arm, and I see concern flash in her eyes. “Does it hurt? You should see a doctor about that.”

“Did Raffaele put you up to saying that?” I roll my eyes, but then I catch myself. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, and I snap my head up to see Isa’s wide, curious eyes locked on mine.

“It’s not what you?—”

“Who the hell is Raffaele?” she interrupts, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare lie to me, because I’ll know if you do.”

Damn it. I’ve been so careful to keep my encounter with Raffaele under wraps, but I’ve just gone and ruined it with my big mouth.

I swallow, trying to steady my breath as I search for the right words. “Raffaele Gagliardi was at the airport during the attack. He’s… a big asshole.”

Isa snorts. “He can afford to be. Sweetheart, if you look up Adonis in the dictionary, I’m sure you’ll see his picture right next to the description.”

My eyes go wide. “You know him?”

“You didn’t? Are you living under a rock or something? How do you not know your sworn enemy?”

I purse my lips. “Not mine , Papa’s. I don’t care about that spawn of Satan.”

Isa flops dramatically, fanning herself with an exaggerated sigh. “Straight out of hell. No wonder he’s so smokin’.”

I sputter on my drink, the wine spraying across the table, some of it landing on Isa’s face. I can’t help but laugh—serves her right.

“I’ll forgive you for that if you give me all the dirty details of what went down with you and the spawn of Satan.” She grins, waggling her eyebrows.

“Nothing!” I blurt out, my face heating up.

“You’re blushing,” Isa points out, smirking.

“So?” I snap. “It’s warm out here.”

She throws her head back, laughing. “Sure, Giulia. Whatever you say. That’s why we’re both under a blanket, and you’re wearing your thermal socks.”

I bite my lip, trying to navigate out of this trap I set for myself. “He saved me from getting shot and gave me a ride on his plane back to the city.”

“Are you part of the mile-high club now?” Isa gasps.

I grab the cork from the bottle of wine and toss it at her, but she dodges it effortlessly, still laughing.

“You’re blushing again.”

“Because you’re talking about…” I lower my voice, glancing around nervously. “Sex.”

“You, my dear Giulia Montanari, are a prude. What’s so scandalous about sex? It’s a normal thing.” She pauses, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I have a feeling it would be a transient experience with a man like Raffaele, though. I bet you’d hear the angels sing.”

Now that she’s planted that thought in my head, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to be with Raffaele—his deep blue eyes, his intense presence. I shake my head, trying to push the image away. No way am I thinking about that.

“He’s an asshole,” I repeat, my voice sharp. “He’s probably selfish in bed.”

Isa looks at me, doubtful. “That bad, huh?”

I think back to the way he sat in that plane, his long legs stretched out, his posture effortlessly commanding. I spent the whole time trying not to stare at him like a starving woman at a banquet. Not sure I succeeded.

“Y-yeah,” I croak, swallowing. “He’s horrible, and if I ever see him again, I’ll make sure to let him know.”

“Planning to see him again?” Isa smirks. “I thought he’s the spawn of Satan. Shouldn’t you be thinking about how to stay as far away from him as possible?”

I laugh, but it’s humorless. She’s right. I should be avoiding him. Raffaele Gagliardi is trouble wrapped in a sleek suit and flashing, neon lights. He’s the opposite of everything I should want, but somehow… my body doesn’t listen to my mind. It’s chanting his name like a prayer I never asked for.

Not that it matters anyway. I’m sure Papa will find a way to trap me with Luca. His vendetta will cost me more than I ever imagined, and I’ll be tied to that spoiled brat, Luca, for the sake of his revenge.

My fists clench at my sides, my teeth grinding together.

The thought of being tied to Luca makes my skin crawl.

If only Papa would look up from his revenge for a second, see that he still has life left to live, that I still do.

We could survive, if only the weight of anger and grief didn’t keep chipping away at us.

“You’ll be fine,” Isa whispers softly.

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. Isa’s words aren’t the same as when a near stranger once told me I’d be fine. Back then, it felt like something real. Now? It feels empty, a distant echo.

I don’t want Raffaele and his brand of trouble, but part of me… part of me needs it. And I’m afraid that part is going to win.