Page 38 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

GIULIA

“ H ello to you, too, Montanari.” Raffaele’s deep timbre rumbles through the phone, and despite knowing this call alone could be disastrous for both of us, everything inside me relaxes at the sound of his voice.

The way my body responds to him is a creative flaw. One I need to correct if I don’t want to fall any deeper into this than I already am.

Oh, darling , a voice in my head mocks, you’ve fallen all the way to the very bottom.

“Shut up,” I mutter.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” he asks.

I clear my throat. “What’s this call about?” Even though the question is seemingly simple, I know there’s nothing insignificant about it. I find myself holding my breath as I wait for his response.

“I need to see you.”

“Raffaele, I…” I can hear him breathing over the line. I press my phone closer to my ear, wanting to feel his breath against my skin. I need to see him just as much as he does, but someone has to be the voice of reason here.

“I’ll be at Bayer Park in an hour,” he tells me. “And I’ll be there until a quarter past eight.”

He doesn’t need to say more for me to know the rest. If I’m not there by a quarter past eight, he’ll know I’m not coming, and this thing is over. Silence takes over before I can give a response, and I toss the phone away with a sigh.

My family is already in a chaotic mess after what happened with Luca. The Cozzolis had been insistent on a full-blown war until the truth about Luca’s involvement with the Syndicate came out. The matter has died now, but sometimes, I can still feel my father’s curious eyes on me.

While Father was unconscious, Isa and I concocted a story about how we managed to escape from Luca and raze the building to the ground. My cousin made sure I went over it again and again to get all the facts right, and wouldn’t mistakenly reveal Raffaele’s involvement in the entire thing.

Since that day, security around the house has tripled.

We’re back at the estate now—the penthouse is no longer an option, not after it was compromised.

Even the builders repairing the damage from the Syndicate’s attack work under constant watch, flanked by guards to prevent another attempt to finish what Luca started.

Staying here is the smart choice. Inside these walls, I’m safe—not just from physical harm but from everything else that threatens to unravel me.

Father’s suspicions about what happened that day are another problem. He hasn’t said much, but I see it in his eyes—the questions he’s too proud or too calculating to ask outright. What if he’s already had his men tracking my every move? What if?—

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door flinging open.

I glance up to see my cousin racing in, eyes wide in surprise. “What’s going on?” I jump to my feet, reaching for my gun.

She waves her hand dismissively. “We’re not in danger. I just got information that Edoardo Gagliardi has been hospitalized, and apparently, it’s serious enough to keep him indisposed for a long time.”

I blink, shocked. “When did this happen?”

“About half an hour ago or so. The news is everywhere right now.” She pauses. “Have you, um, heard from him?”

Is that why he had sounded so urgent over the phone? What does this mean for him? Is he now in charge of the Gagliardi family? Even though he’s six years older than me, twenty-four is still far too young to be in charge of an entire family and business.

I don’t doubt Raffaele’s capability, but there’s no way he’s ready for something this massive, and so suddenly.

Father’s near-death experience from a week ago has made me see more than ever that this isn’t a life I want any part of.

I don’t want to become so familiar with death that it stops fazing me.

I don’t want to have to hold my breath each time someone I care about leaves my sight, wondering if that’s the last time I’ll ever see them.

“I need to call him,” I say instead of answering her question.

What would I even say over the phone? That I’m sorry his father is hurt, or I’m sorry he has to accept a position I’m sure he wants nothing to do with? His words replay in my head, bringing with them a giddiness that I shouldn’t feel.

“I’m going to see him,” I add, spinning around to march to my closet.

She sucks in a breath. “Are you crazy? You can’t see him now.

There’s now far too much risk. He’s the head of the Gagliardi family now.

Do you know what that means? If you’re caught with him now, it’ll be seen as a betrayal to our family.

Hanging around with the Don’s son was one thing, but the Don himself? ”

I grit my teeth. “Why are you speaking like his father is dead? The position is temporary.”

I’m already flinging off my tube top and booty shorts, replacing them with dark jeans and a red silk blouse that does wonderful things for my complexion. Which isn’t something I should be thinking about right now anyway. I just want to talk to him, nothing more.

Liar , the voice in my head screams.

I ignore the voice and tug on my black ankle boots and head over to the full-length mirror to check my reflection.

Isa snorts. “Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

I turn to my cousin and grip her hand. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but I’ve got this. I’ll be careful, I’ll be safe, and I’ll be fine. I need you to cover for me to Father one last time.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so willing to risk everything for him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “And you say you’re not obsessed.”

If obsession is what exists between Raffaele and me, at least I’ll understand it. He’s unbelievably handsome, with the perfect physique, the bearing, and the wealth, and that dark, broody energy makes him irresistible. Becoming obsessed with him would be easier, or at least it’d make more sense.

The raw, pulsing magnetism between us isn’t explainable, not to mention the way we almost seem to be able to read each other’s minds. It’s both terrifying and fascinating.

“I’ll see you in a jiffy,” I tell her instead of a response, then grab my purse and rush out.

I check my watch to make sure I haven’t missed my window of opportunity to see him.

For what may just be the last time. A shuddering breath slips out of my mouth when I see that I still have some time, enough to get to the park before he leaves.

Half an hour later, I’m strolling into the dimly lit park, hugging my arms around me to ward off the evening chill. In my haste, I forgot to put on a jacket, and now I’m paying for it. It’s all Raffaele’s damn fault anyway. What is he thinking, dragging me out here?

The park is completely deserted except for a lonely figure standing in the distance.

Even though the man has his back to me and is almost entirely in the shadows, I know exactly who he is.

I stop for a moment to take him in, starting from the width of his shoulders and chest to the way it all tapers into a narrow waist and long legs.

As if feeling my presence, Raffaele suddenly turns.

Our eyes meet from across the park, blue against hazel, and hold.

With our gazes locked, I cross the park, shivering as a light gust of wind whips across, chilling me further.

Most of the streetlights here aren’t functioning anymore, but the moon is bright enough in the cloudless sky to cast light over our expressions.

I’m too tired to hide my expression, so I let him see it all: the anger, the fear, the confusion, and the longing. In turn, he lets me see how truly exhausted he is, how unprepared and agitated he is.

“I heard about Edoardo,” I say.

He shrugs, trying to affect a nonchalant expression and failing miserably. “He’ll pull through. He’s a stubborn bastard.”

“Until then, are you the new Don?” I ask curiously.

His jaw clenches. “I’ll be whatever the family needs me to be.”

My chest suddenly feels like it’s on fire, and I resist the urge to rub at it.

We stare at each other, the hopelessness of the situation dawning on us.

Despite our best efforts, we’ll forever be forced to be what the family wants us to be.

We are stuck in this life of giving and giving small parts of ourselves for the familial cause until we have nothing left to give.

“A Don at twenty-four. You must be so proud. If thirteen-year-old Raffaele could see you now, he’d be so jealous.” I try to smile, try to lighten the mood.

It’s partly a tactic to prevent us from finally having a long-overdue conversation. Maybe we can just laugh and joke about things and go home pretending that we haven’t been doomed as far back as that day at the retreat.

“The only thing he’d be jealous of,” Raffaele’s voice softens, “is that I’m standing here with you.”

My throat tightens, and tears sting at the back of my eyes. “In an empty park, in the middle of the night, like we’re some kind of drug dealers.”

Raffaele suddenly reaches for the button of his suit jacket, and with long, deft fingers, undoes it.

My eyes flare. “What are you doing?”

“You’re cold,” he says simply, then steps forward to wrap the jacket around my shoulders. The warmth of him surrounds me immediately, the smell of his cologne and something uniquely him filling my nose. I fight the urge to bend my head and sniff at the jacket.

I expect him to move away after wrapping me in the jacket, but he stays right there, too close for my senses, and yet somehow too far away.

The moment stretches for an eternity, tension rising higher and higher until it feels like I’ll burst. We’re so close that our breaths mingle together, our bodies pulled together like the two opposite sides of a magnet.

Staying away from him is impossible, because just like the forces of the magnet, how can I, a mere human, fight a law of nature?

“I want you, Giulia. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” His voice is ragged, pouring over my senses like gasoline. “I want every part of you, from your sharp little mouth…” He cups my jaw, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “To the parts of you only you know.”

My whole body trembles, from the inside out, wanting, needing.

“But you deserve better. You deserve a future without pain and a life where you don’t have to ever look over your shoulder,” he continues.

For a second, I almost wish for that normal life, the one without pain, without him.

But then, in the deepest part of me, I know that this—whatever this is—feels like my only truth.

I decide that I want it all. Anything, everything that comes as package and parcel of being with Raffaele, I’ll gladly accept it.

“Kiss me,” I whisper, my throat dry, desperate. “Please.”

He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t think I should.”

“You’re overthinking this,” I say, my hands gripping his shirt.

“Am I?”

“Raffaele, I?—”

“You deserve flowers, chocolate, a kiss from a man you won’t regret,” he says, pain in his voice. “God, baby, you deserve so much more than a bastard like me can ever give you.”

A tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. “I also deserve to feel alive, to feel wanted by someone who makes my heart race,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper as I lift my gaze to meet his.

“I deserve to give my virginity to a man of my choosing. The one standing right in front of me, the one who’s taken over my thoughts since he came back into my life and made me realize everything I’ve been missing.

I’ll never regret you, Raffaele. So please, kiss me.

After that… take me to your car, and let’s pretend, just for tonight, that we aren’t who we are. ”

He steps back, but I pull him closer, fists clenched in the front of his shirt. “Don’t say no. Don’t tell me what I deserve or don’t deserve,” I plead.

“Giulia—” His voice breaks, but I don’t let him finish.

I rise on my toes, pressing my lips to his, stopping his protest. The one time I need him to be an asshole, he decides to be the sweetest, most considerate man.

For the first time, the man I need is the one who kisses me like I’m his salvation and his ruin.

Like I’m the reason he’s breathing, the reason he’s standing there.

The one that made me come on his kitchen counter and looks at me like he wants to take me apart and put me together again.

That’s the one my heart beats for. The one I’m starting to realize might always beat for.

When he pulls away, his voice is rough. “I need you.”

“Then take me,” I whisper against his lips.

Suddenly, I’m swept into his arms, my hands wrapping around his neck as he carries me away. The night will live in my head forever—a night that will haunt me, shape me, and maybe break me. But somehow, it will never be a night I could ever regret.