Page 70 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

GIULIA

“ W ake up, baby,” a familiar voice says.

“Mama?” I call, searching around in the dark, trying to find her.

“Wake up!” she says more urgently.

A dot of light suddenly appears in the distance, growing larger and larger until it surrounds me, blinding me. I feel someone behind me, and when I turn around, I see my mother just as she looked the last time I saw her.

“Wake up, now!” she screams in my face.

All of a sudden, I’m being pulled away from her.

“Mama!” I cry. “Don’t let them take me. Mama, please!”

The warmth of her voice wraps around me like a childhood lullaby, but something feels wrong. The light swells too fast, blinding, burning. Then—cold. A terrible, suffocating cold. I’m falling?—

I shoot up in bed, my forehead slamming against something hard. Pain explodes behind my eyes.

It takes me a moment to realize I’m not in my bed. I blink, confused, trying to clear away the fog in my head. Where the hell am I?

The dark is oppressive. My eyes fly around in panic, trying to figure out what’s going on. Just then, my body is jerked to the side.

“Ouch,” I groan as my shoulder smashes into the side of the… car?

Am I in a car?

Oh god.

My eyes widen in realization. I’m in the trunk of a car, my hands and legs tied, being taken who knows where.

Panic slams into me. The trunk. The ropes. My heart pounds.

I was waiting for Raffaele. Isabella stepped away to make a call. Then?—

A twig snapped. A flash of pain. Darkness.

Isabella took a walk to get some signal on her phone while I opted to wait for Raffaele at the location in case he was running late. The last thing I remember is hearing the crunch of a twig, and as I started to turn around, there was a flash of pain at the side of my head, and the world went dark.

I’ve been abducted by someone who either doesn’t want the wedding to happen or intends to use me as a bargaining chip in this war.

This could be my father. Maybe he overheard Isabella and me planning my escape and decided to take matters into his own hands. Or Edoardo—using me as leverage to break my father.

But the last possibility—the one that makes my stomach lurch—is the Echelon Syndicate. If it’s them, I’m already dead.

Sweat rolls down my face, and my breaths are coming faster and faster.

“Hey, asshole!” I bang against the side of the car.

“Shut it!” a man’s voice calls back.

We go over another speed bump, and I gasp as I’m rattled inside the trunk. I wince when my forehead smacks the metal side. I grit my teeth in annoyance.

“Who’s behind this, huh?” I croak. “Tell your bastard employer that only cowards abduct people and toss them in car trunks.”

The man driving laughs. I cock my ear, trying to detect another voice. I can easily take out one man, but I need to free my hands first and find a way out of here.

If the Syndicate is truly behind this, then I know I’m in trouble. Forget being used as a bargaining chip, those assholes will slice me ear to ear and dump my body on the street for vultures. I hope Isabella managed to get away. Panic makes my heart pound harder. I try to regulate my breathing.

“Think, Giulia. Think.”

I close my eyes, exhaling. Is Raffaele in trouble, too? Is that why he didn’t show up to the location? If he is, then I can’t depend on him to save me right now. I have to get out of this myself.

I recall reading about the recommended course of action in a situation like this.

The article mentioned that removing the taillights is a common practice because people and authorities are more likely to inspect a car with missing taillights.

I try to move my legs, but I’ve been bound up so tightly that there’s barely any circulation in my ankles.

The simple yet sophisticated white satin dress Isa insisted I wear feels like it’s working against me.

Damn it.

“Let me out of here, you bastard!” I scream, pounding my fist against the ceiling.

“Shut up, or I’ll shut you up myself,” the man snaps. “My employer, as you so eloquently put it, didn’t give me any instructions about bringing you in peak condition. Know what that means, princess?”

I still. “Go to hell.”

His only response is a booming laugh.

My heart rises to my throat, choking me, when I feel the car come to a stop. Is this it? Am I going to die now? I try to shift around in the limited space, and that’s when I remember Isa rolling her eyes at me when I strapped the dagger to my garter.

A shaky chuckle slips out of my mouth as I inch up my dress until my hand is wrapped around the ivory handle of the dagger. It’s the only birthday gift I’ve ever gotten from my father that I didn’t immediately toss or drive off the nearest cliff.

“What do you have in the back there?” I hear a stern voice ask.

My eyes widen as it hits me that we must be at a police checkpoint.

“Help me! Help me, I’ve been kidnapped!” I scream. “You have to help me, please! He’s a psychopath and he’s going to kill me!” A sob tears out of my throat.

There’s silence for a long moment, and then I hear footsteps heading toward the back of the car. Light blinds my eyes as the trunk is suddenly opened, revealing a uniformed officer and a man with long, brown hair, wearing a leather jacket. I shift the dagger away from their view.

The cop turns to the other man. “What’s going on here?”

He grumbles under his breath. “It’s the package I told you I had to move today.”

I blink in shock when the cop’s mouth pulls up into a smirk. “She’s a pretty thing. What’s with the dress?”

“Fuck off,” the kidnapper said. “I’m running late already.”

“No, wait—” The trunk is shut again with a bang.

Whoever is behind this has the cops in their pocket, and I’m just now realizing that kicking out the taillights wouldn’t have helped me.

From what I managed to see when the trunk was open, my kidnapper is driving out of the city grounds.

We’re far away from both Gagliardi and Montanari territory, but I still don’t rule Edoardo out as a suspect.

The car takes off again, and this time around, I’m desperate. The involvement of the cop and the knowledge that I’m being taken away from the city pushes me into survival mode. I start banging the sides of the trunk as soon as the car starts moving.

“You’re making a mistake, you dickwad! My husband is going to find you, and he’ll carve your heart out of your chest.”

“Don’t you need to be married first to have a husband?” the man taunts, chuckling.

Does that mean Raffaele isn’t safe? Surely if they had lain in wait and hurt him too, he’d have said something to indicate as much. I can’t think about all of that right now. If I get delivered to whoever is behind this, I have a feeling it’ll be game over for me.

“Is it money? I’ll double whatever he offered you. Triple, in fact,” I say.

“Save your breath,” he scoffs.

“You’re wasting your loyalty on someone who lets other people do his dirty work,” I taunt, hoping to get a reaction. One that will hopefully make him stop the car and come around to confront me.

“C’mon, c’mon,” I mutter as I saw at the thick ropes around my ankles with what little movement I can get from my wrists.

Tears of frustration fill my eyes as the dagger slips out of my clammy hands, and at the same time, the car drives over another bump, sliding the weapon away from my reach. Hysterical laughter bubbles inside of me.

Fuck this war, and fuck this life of blood and danger.

My child will never be gifted a weapon on their birthday, nor will they know what it feels like to be trussed up like a pig and stuffed in an uncomfortable car trunk. I tap around until I locate my knife, knowing that every second counts.

“Stop the car. I need to go.”

“Hold it.”

“It’s not that kind of need, asshole.”

The car screeches to a halt. Jackpot.

I’m too excited about my success to be bothered about being bumped around like a rag doll. The stars align in that moment as I feel the rope on my wrist give under the edge of the blade.

I slip the dagger back into my garter and ready myself. I stay still, listening to the man grumbling to himself.

“Are you sure?” he spits, voice filled with irritation.

“You’ll find out for yourself in five minutes tops,” I hiss.

“Damn it.” I hear the car door bang shut. His heavy footsteps approach the trunk. He flings it open and glares at me. “Bitch.”

I flash him a sweet smile that only makes him scowl harder. He grabs me by my shoulders and drags me up, almost dislocating one in the process. I grit my teeth, biting back my cry of pain. My body is one big bruise, but I can’t afford to look broken.

Timing is crucial now, so I bide my time, pretending like my bindings are still in place.

The lack of blood flow in my legs causes them to buckle as I’m dropped to my feet. My kidnapper reaches for me, and that’s when I strike. I slash my hand in an arc as hard as I can, slicing across the man’s chest.

He screams, stumbling away in wide-eyed horror.

I pivot to run?—

Too slow.

Pain rips through my scalp as he yanks me back by my hair. I twist, swinging the dagger, but he’s ready. A brutal slap sends me reeling, the knife flying from my grasp.

The world tilts. He looms over me, breath hot against my cheek.

“Should’ve stayed put, princess.”

“ Vaffanculo figlio di puttana !” I gather saliva in the back of my throat and spit in his eye. Fuck off, you son of a bitch!

His face twists from anger into something far worse—pure, unrestrained rage. The next blow lands on the other side of my face, and I don’t flinch. I expected it. What I didn’t expect was him yanking me toward the edge of the road.

Panic claws at my throat as I fight, kicking, struggling, screaming. I should be able to take him down, I know I can. But he’s bigger, stronger. And my baby, our baby. I can’t let anything happen. Not now. Not ever.

I swear it.

If I die today, I’ll go down fighting.

With a grin on my lips and my middle finger held high.

Screw them all.