Page 49 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

GIULIA

T he woman in the mirror isn’t me anymore. Not after that kiss with Raffaele. We’ve had so many perfect kisses, but this one felt like the atoms of the world were rearranging into an alternate one.

I drag the pads of my fingers over my lips, sucking in a breath when I brush them over where his mouth was. It feels like it’s been longer than three hours since he reminded me what it feels like to be eaten alive, devoured until there’s nothing but desire and longing left.

I run my gaze over my reflection, trying to assure myself that I’m still the one standing there, that I’m still me.

My roaming gaze stops on the bright flash of my massive diamond ring.

From the moment Alessandro slipped it onto my finger, I’ve constantly had to keep my hands curled up to not feel like I’m attracting every robber and criminal from a mile away.

If my fiancé ever cared to know me, he’d have known that the huge, shiny rock is not me at all. It makes me look like such an asshole.

Without another thought, I slip it off and toss it on my dresser, then walk out of the room, intent on telling my father exactly what I think about this arrangement he’s dragged me into under false pretenses. I refuse to go along with this scheme and any other scheme he wants to rope me into.

I’ve been waiting for the right moment to confront my father—to make him admit what he did—but I can’t wait any longer. It’s time to face him.

I’m done being a fucking pawn.

I push open the door to his study and walk right in without knocking.

Father is seated in his large leather chair, staring thoughtfully at the chessboard in front of him.

He got into chess while he was still laid up in bed and recovering from his extensive injuries two years ago.

It’s become a bit of an obsession for him.

“Giulia.” He glances up at me, a frown on his face. “Good, you’re here. Let’s play together. We can start the game with…” he trails off, eyes narrowing.

I follow his gaze to my hand, where there’s an absence of a ring. I square my shoulders and lock my eyes with him, showing him that the absence is very intentional… and very permanent.

“Where’s your ring?” he asks carefully.

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

“That ring is custom-made. It cost six figures,” he deadpans.

“Oh, six figures?” I smirk, feigning surprise. “Didn’t you already cash in big with your Ferrara deal?”

I see him still. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” I shoot back. “So it’s just all part of my vivid imagination that you’re selling me off to the Ferraras for some guns, product, and soldiers?”

I don’t know what I’m expecting, some remorse perhaps, or some hesitation. What I get is my father’s face becoming as hard as stone. He slaps one palm down on the surface of the desk, the sharp sound making me flinch.

“You know nothing, child!”

“I won’t marry Alessandro. I won’t continue to be one of the figurines on your chessboard,” I snarl. “If he’s so perfect anyway, then you can have him.”

“If you refuse to go ahead with this marriage, you’ll automatically become a traitor to this family.” His voice is cold and precise, and I know he means every word of it.

I feel my heart cracking at the realization that Father will choose his agenda over me, his last living relative, all for the sake of a revenge that he doesn’t even realize has ended his life.

“I’ll be more than relieved not to be a part of this mess,” I say. “I’m done with you taking advantage of my care for you. How long am I going to let you control my entire life?”

“I’m thinking about your future ?—”

“You think Alessandro is my future?” My voice cracks just enough to make me hate myself. “Mother would have laughed in your face. She told me once that real love doesn’t come with a price tag. But you never believed in love, did you, Father?”

“It’s for your own good,” he insists.

“For my own good?” I scoff. “Is that the same thing you said to yourself before you managed to get Val and Mom killed?”

His eyes flare with fury, and I’m tempted to take a cautious step back, but instead, I stand my ground. I can’t continue living in fear of the truth. I’ve kept the fact that I know some part of the truth hidden for far too long, allowing it to fester and rot inside me.

“Think carefully about what you’re saying, Giulia.” The warning in his voice is clear, and I almost retrace my steps out of the confrontational landmine I’ve managed to land myself in.

Almost.

“You heard me loud and clear, Papa,” I spit. “I know that you stole Mom from Grandfather, and you’re the reason they’re dead. You know what, it actually explains why you’re so laser- focused on getting revenge. It’s your own goddamn guilt that’s eating you up.”

I watch my father’s eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place—pain? Regret? The look is gone in an instant, replaced by the cold, calculated man I’ve come to know all too well.

“You think this is easy for me?” His voice is raw, strained, like he’s struggling to hold himself together. “Every time I look at you, I see them. Valentina. Your mother. The ghosts of my past. It’s like a knife twisting in my heart. I can’t bear it anymore.”

I freeze, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I almost believe him. There’s real agony in his voice, a sorrow I can feel in the pit of my stomach. But then it’s overshadowed by the cold truth—the truth I’ve been running from.

He doesn’t get it. He never has.

“So you’re willing to trade me for peace?” I snap, my voice shaking. “For your own comfort? You think that’s what I am to you? Just a reminder of your mistakes?”

His face hardens.

“It’s not about peace, Giulia,” he says, his voice lowering, almost pleading.

“It’s about survival. Alessandro will take you away.

You won’t be here, won’t be a constant reminder of everything that has happened.

I can concentrate on what really matters.

And he—” He stops himself, taking a sharp breath.

“He’ll help me get what I’ve always wanted.

Revenge. For them. For Valentina and your mother. ”

I stumble back, reeling from his words. I don’t know if I’m more shocked by his confession or the cold way he’s willing to throw me into this marriage for his own gain. I thought I was finally starting to understand him, but now? Now I see how little I matter.

“You’ll never be free of this, Papa,” I say quietly. “No matter what you do, you’ll always be haunted by them.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering with something I can’t name, before he speaks again.

“Think whatever you want, but I’m not wasting another second justifying myself to you,” he snaps, his voice cold. “I had nothing to do with their deaths. That was all the Echelon Syndicate’s doing.”

I gape at him, disbelief settling in my chest. “Then why aren’t you going after them? Why are you wasting your time fighting the Gagliardis, who had nothing to do with it?” My voice cracks with frustration.

“Why are you defending them?” His eyes narrow suspiciously, and something in me freezes, my heart tripping over itself.

I take an instinctive step back, but I don’t look away.

His question stings, though I know it’s not about me.

It’s not about loyalty or defense—it’s about how much he’s willing to sacrifice for his version of justice.

His stare sharpens, as if he’s sizing me up, wondering where my true allegiances lie.

“Defending them?” I echo, stunned by his accusation. “I’m not defending anyone. I’m just trying to understand why you’re so focused on the wrong people.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other, but the man I thought I knew feels more like a stranger with every passing second.

I hold my ground. “I’m just getting really sick and tired of all this drama.

When does it end? When will you finally decide that you’ve had enough of your revenge?

Is it when we’re all six feet under and rotting under the rubble of everything we’ve built?

I’m sick of hearing you blame everyone but yourself for everything that’s happened. ”

“I’ve done nothing.”

A short, bitter laugh slips out of my mouth. “Of course you haven’t. You didn’t elope with Mom, and you didn’t hide Valentina and me from Grandpa?”

He seems shocked that I know all this, but I go on.

“You know the problem with you? You’ve never put anybody else first. It’s always been you, you, and you. Your wishes, your desires, your revenge, fuck everybody else and what they want. We’re all disposable pawns in your master plan anyway. Isn’t that right, Enrico?”

He suddenly snaps to his feet, lips peeled back in a frightening snarl. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Giulia.”

“Then make me understand.”

He stares at me for a long moment, and eventually he opens his mouth to say something, but he must change his mind, because a moment later, he’s storming past me and out of the room. My shoulders drop in defeat and disappointment.

One day, I’ll get my father to sit down and talk to me about his plans, the driving force behind his desperate need for vengeance, and what exactly happened all those years ago that fractured his relationship with Grandpa. I wish he’d stop looking at me like I’m a child and actually talk to me.

If I’m old enough for him to sell me off to a marriage and trust me to have my own kids, then the least he can do is trust me, for god’s sake.

Sighing, I turn around and step out of the study. Without the ring on my finger, I feel light and airy, and yeah, I know it’s crazy to think that a piece of jewelry weighed me down so much, but that’s just the fact.

Speaking of rings, there’s someone else I need to talk to.

I’m not looking forward to having this conversation with Alessandro.

I head back to my room to slick on bright red lipstick for a much-needed bout of confidence. The problem isn’t ending this crazy arrangement with Alessandro or even the consequences I’ll have to face for it.

I don’t care if my father thinks I’m a traitor, and I’m cut off for it.

I have Isa to fall back on. She has more money than she knows what to do with anyway, and I’m sure my cousin won’t let me starve.

And if worse comes to worst, I have no scruples about selling my overpriced ring and living off it.

That’s not my problem, though. The only thing that has my heart thudding like drums at a carnival is Raffaele, and what he’ll do as soon as he finds out I’m no longer engaged. I know the ring on my finger isn’t what’s stopping him, but without it, there will be no holds barred.

A shiver of anticipation curls through me, and I quickly tamp it down.

Difficult conversation first, thinking about Raffaele next.

The hallway outside Alessandro’s apartment feels wrong. Like stepping into a crime scene before the body’s even cold. The air is thick with silence. My heels click against the marble, the sound sharp and jarring, like a warning I’m too stubborn to hear.

When I reach his door, my stomach tugs with something uncomfortable. The door’s not just unlocked—it’s ajar. A sliver of darkness gapes back at me.

I push it open.

Inside, it’s too quiet. No music, no scent of his expensive cologne, no half-drunk glass of whiskey waiting on the counter. It feels… abandoned. My pulse thuds louder in my ears with every step.

I swallow hard.

A dark smudge catches my eye near the entryway. I kneel to touch it—blood, barely dried.

What the hell happened here?

My fingers tremble as I move toward the kitchen island. That’s when I see them—chrysanthemums. White. Perfectly arranged.

A folded card rests beside them, its edges damp, as if someone had gripped it with sweaty hands.

I flip it open.

Giulia,

I can’t stay. I can’t marry you.

I’m sorry. I should have seen this coming.

It’s bigger than us—bigger than I ever realized.

I can’t be here when it happens.

Forget me. Forget all of this.

Be careful who you trust.

A.

The letter trembles in my hands, the words smudged slightly from the sweat on my fingertips. My heart is pounding so fast it hurts, and then I see it—the cufflink—sitting there on the counter like a loaded gun.

My stomach drops.

His cufflink.

My skin prickles even as I reach for it, a cold dread sliding down my spine.

He’s been here. What the hell has he done?

And worse—why does some twisted, sick part of me already know this is exactly what I wanted?

For a second, I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

I crumple the letter, but the cufflink stays in my palm, biting into my skin. I should throw it across the room, but I can’t.

My hand feels bare without the ring—until I realize I’m holding something else that matters far more.

His cufflink.

It shouldn’t comfort me.

It shouldn’t feel right.

But it does.

Because as much as I hate him, some sick, twisted part of me feels… relieved.

I’m furious at him. But I also feel free, and that makes me hate myself even more.

But I finally no longer feel the invisible shackles I’ve felt since I walked away from him.

I raise my hand to my face, staring at my ringless finger with a small smile. Then, I press my hand against my mouth, overwhelmed by the disbelief of what just happened.

I denied it for so long. I tried to resist—but that kiss.

I can’t keep lying to myself. There is only one person who has ever truly loved me.

I don’t know if we can survive the divide between our families. But for the first time in my life, I refuse to be afraid.

I hurry out of the apartment. As I watch the doors shut, sealing the penthouse from my view, it feels like I’m ending a chapter of my life. It’s terrifying and nerve-wracking, but nothing’s ever felt so good.

I breathe in, and for the first time in years, my chest doesn’t feel heavy.

It feels like freedom?—

and disaster —

and him.

And I already know—I’m running straight into the fire.