Page 45 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

RAFFAELE

T hrough the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entirety of my penthouse apartment, Chicago lies beneath me in a blur of lights and colors. This city has always felt like mine. Even back when I didn’t understand the pull of it. Chicago is in my blood just as much as being a made man is.

I don’t think I can ever walk away from any of it.

The fact that I was willing to abandon it in the blink of an eye for Giulia was the first sign that she had me wrapped around her little finger, my entire body, heart, and soul.

I meet my eyes in the reflection on the glass.

Isa may have been right about Giulia being a different person, but so am I.

I’m now a carbon copy of my father, right down to his impenetrable, icy blue gaze.

If she sees me now, will she recoil from the lifelessness in my eyes? Will she shudder in revulsion when she hears about all the horrible things I’ve done? The rumors about my ruthlessness are not exaggerated. I’m exactly what they say I am.

Is she relieved that she walked away before I could become this? The thought makes me want to smash my fist into the glass and not stop until my chest doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.

I’m saved from wrecking my hands by the sound of my phone ringing. I turn away from the glass and cross the open floor living room to where my phone is on a side table. I stare at the caller ID with confusion before picking up the call.

“Renzo, talk to me,” I say.

“One of these days, I’ll get you to say hello and make idle conversation,” he chuckles. Renzo is my second cousin and one of the best snipers I’ve ever met. He did a stint in the military where he acquired terrifying scars, his shooting skills, and a disdain for the government.

He’s one of the craziest fuckers I’ve ever met, jumping into things headfirst without any care for his life. I don’t know if it’s extreme bravado or suicidal tendencies. We aren’t particularly close, but he’s one of the loyal ones. And by that, I mean loyal to me and not my father.

“Spit it out.” My voice is full of impatience, and he huffs.

“Your father is planning an attack against the Montanaris.”

Fuck. He must still be keeping tabs on Isabella and traced her recent call to her cousin. Now he probably knows their new location.

“He’s been meeting a lot of people the past few days, but I didn’t think much of it,” he says. “Apparently, he’s been gathering every crook off the streets to join the ranks.”

“That’s not possible,” I say incredulously. “Only made men are?—”

“I guess you don’t know Edoardo that well,” he snorts. “When has he ever followed a code of conduct?”

While that is true, I never thought he would stoop this low. I run a hand through my hair, yanking in frustration. At this rate, I’ll be bald in no time. Why would Emilio let this happen?

“He’s gathering an army like he’s getting ready for the third world war,” he continues. “He’s not being picky about who he lets in. I’m crazy, but even I don’t approve of this.”

Which is a lot coming from a man who runs into burning buildings and once single-handedly snuck into enemy territory with nothing but a knife strapped to his ankle.

“How is the family approving of this?” I ask.

“Don’t ask me,” he replies. “All I know is that Enrico’s days are numbered, and once he falls, his family will be too weak to do anything but surrender at the first sight of your father’s army.”

I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve always known that it would eventually get to something like this, and I’ve been dreading it.

The fact is, my father may think that eliminating the Montanaris and seizing their territory will be easy, but he failed to consider the new marriage alliance with Alessandro and the entire Ferrara family.

While the Ferraras choose to mostly keep to themselves, they are far from weak. I already know from reliable sources that their weapon supply is nothing to scoff at.

“Let me know if you hear anything else.” I hang up.

This news, in addition to what I’ve just discovered about Giulia’s engagement, makes me feel torn. I don’t want her to get caught in this, but her asshole of a father has managed to get her entangled so firmly that I’m not sure that there’s any way out but through it.

I’ve always known Enrico is a bastard, but selling your only daughter for weapons, drugs, and allies is a new low.

Does he even realize that no amount of cargo will ever amount to her?

If he ever got his head out of his ass and puts Giulia in charge of the business, he’d finally see that he has an untapped diamond mine right under his nose.

Instead, he thinks tossing her off to those morons is the best move.

Honestly, if Enrico and my father ever decide to sit down and have a civil discussion, they’ll see how alike they are.

Seething, I snatch my phone back from the table and dial Matteo’s number. Every second that his phone rings without him picking up just makes my muscles coil tighter and tighter.

“It’s the middle of the fucking night,” he grumbles as soon as he picks up.

From the phone, I can hear the sound of a woman calling him back to bed. I want to snap at him that I damn well know it’s the middle of the night, and that he’s awfully lucky that he’s not plagued with horrible insomnia and can actually take a woman to bed and get some satisfaction from it.

“I need you to get me Giulia’s number,” I say instead.

There’s a meaningful pause on the other end of the line. “Giulia Montanari?”

“By all means, get me the contact number of every Giulia on the continent,” I drawl.

“Are you drunk?” I hear shuffling sounds, as if he’s hurriedly pulling on clothes.

“If you’re thinking about driving all the way here for a heart-to-heart, I have only one thing to say to you.

Don’t.” The last thing I need is to listen to Matteo recite to me the pros and cons of getting back in touch with her.

As far as I’m concerned, the pro is her and the con is not having her. It’s that fucking simple.

“I’ll need some time to?—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Matteo,” I snap. “You forget that I know you. There’s no way you haven’t had that number tucked away right from the first time you heard about her.”

“You should think about this.”

Think about it? Like I’ve been able to think about anything else since that day at the airport. It’s been her, her, and more of her. If space won’t cure me, then I may as well overdose on her.

My silence tells him all he needs to know, and he sighs. “I’m sending the number over right now.”

When I check my phone, I see his text with her number. My hands tremble a little as I dial. And then I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself.

“Hello?” The smooth cadence of her voice knocks me over like I’m a bowling pin, and I try to keep my breaths even.

I try and fail to keep my voice composed. When I respond, I sound like a man who had a taste of heaven, was starved, and has just now rediscovered it.

“Giulia.”

I hear her breath hitch over the phone. It makes me feel like I’m on top of the world to hear her so affected by me. Far higher than my penthouse apartment that offers a view of this city to me like a tribute.

“How did you get my number?”

The question takes me back to the first time I ever called her. Back then, she had snapped the question at me, annoyed. Now, she just sounds defeated, and I hate it. I hate everything that’s managed to take away her fire, and I swear to myself that I’ll bring back that fire.

“Do you really want to know?” I ask her.

“You shouldn’t be calling me.” Her words lack certainty.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” I say instead of addressing her statement. “It’s important.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“I don’t care that you walked away from me, from us, from everything. Keeping you safe is still my priority.”

“It shouldn’t have to be. Raffaele, please?—”

“We need to meet up and talk,” I cut in before she can slice my heart into ribbons. I don’t know if I can listen to her beg me to let her go. I’ll give her anything, but I’m not sure I can give that. I don’t know if I want to ever give that.

“I’m getting married,” she sighs.

I wonder if she knows about the marriage contract that is basically selling her like meat at the butcher shop.

If she doesn’t, I need to tell her, and if she does, why the hell is she still going along with this?

The only reason I can think of for her to still be with Alessandro while knowing about the trade is that she’s in love with him.

Everything inside of me recoils from that thought.

No fucking way.

“My father is planning to take yours out,” I tell her.

She sucks in a horrified breath. “What?”

I don’t mean to be heartless, but the reaction to her father is unexpected. How she still cares about him after everything is a mystery to me. But then again, blood is thicker than water.

“We need to meet up,” I reiterate.

“We can’t. You know that we can’t. I’m getting married and?—”

“We both know that marriage will be nothing but a lie.”

“You don’t know that,” she spits, some of that familiar fire in her voice.

“Do you love him?” The question comes out before I can stop it, and I still, waiting for her response.

“That’s none of your business, Raffaele. It’s been two years. I’ve moved on, and I’m sure you have, too. Would it be fair of me to ask how many women you’ve left broken-hearted since I’ve been gone?”

“Is that a question?” I taunt. “Because, unlike you, I’ll respond with a hundred percent honesty.”

“You know what, I’m hanging up. Go to hell.”

“I want to see you. Tell me you don’t want to see me. Say it, Giulia.”

“Don’t do this,” she croaks, a desperate sound that makes my heart thrum in my chest. “Why couldn’t you just let this lie? You have no right to dig up the rotten corpse of what we were, now of all times.”

“Rotten?” My mouth twitches. “Come now, Giulia, we both know this never died in the first place. But I’m not calling you about us. I’m calling you about the danger that’s headed your way. We have to talk.”

She hesitates. “I don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m taking a lot of risk speaking to you over an unsecured line right now. I’ll text you the address of where I want to meet.”

She laughs, but it’s an empty, humorless sound. “You think I’m showing up to a strange location after you’ve just told me you’re trying to get my father killed.”

I want to correct her that it’s my father and not me, but I have a feeling it won’t matter now. Deep down, she has to know that I’ll never try to hurt her.

“You shouldn’t have called me. I’d have been fine,” she finally says.

“I know.”

“I’m going to marry him,” she says again.

I don’t respond, and with a sigh, she hangs up. I keep the phone pressed to my ear long after she’s gone, desperate to keep the invisible connection.

It’s madness, but it’s Giulia, so I’ll choose this insanity over and over again.