Mafia Prince (Mafia Royalty Book 3)

by Cala Riley

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  About Author

  More Books by Cala Riley

  Dedication

  To Whiskey, Coffee, and Capone. Without you, this book might not have made it.

  Copyright @ 2019 by Cala Riley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, except brief quotes used for reviews and certain other non-commercial uses, as per copyright laws. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Mafia Prince Cover Photo by: TakeCover Designs

  Editing by: Hot Tree Editing

  Chapter One

  Isabella

  “All right. I think we’re ready. Are they ready out there?” Sofia sounds as if she’s running a marathon.

  I walk over to her and put my hands on her shoulders.

  “They’re ready. Bash is standing at the end of the aisle waiting for you. Uncle Tony is standing right over there,” I gesture to where he’s patiently waiting, “ready to walk you down the aisle to the man of your dreams. Now stop and take a deep breath. I know this has been a lot for you in a short amount of time, but just breathe. Everything is working out the way it’s supposed to.”

  She takes a couple of deep breaths before she gives me a warm smile. “Thanks, Iz. I’m ready.”

  I lean in and brush an air kiss to her cheek, being careful of her makeup. “Go get your man, babe.”

  “You go grab yours.”

  I follow her gaze over to Giovanni waiting with the guys.

  I have to admit the worst part about the wedding is having to be here with him. When Sofia asked me to be a bridesmaid and share the maid of honor duties with Mia, I had been ecstatic. I felt as if my feelings of sisterhood had been validated. While I know they love me, my insecurities of it not being real are always there.

  The sweet moment is overshadowed by the knowledge of who the best man is. Or are I should say. Since Sofia chose two maids of honor, she told Bash he had to have two best men, Lorenzo and Giovanni.

  I went five fucking years living my life without having to deal with him. He kept his distance, and I kept mine. Then Sofia walked into our lives and ruined it all.

  Okay, that makes me sound bitter. I’m not upset about her happiness. I’m mad because all that time away from Giovanni did nothing to mend my broken heart. Every time I spot him on the street or he comes into Bello Italiano, my heart races then aches for him. I wish I could stop it, but the heart wants what it wants. It doesn’t care that we can’t be with him.

  Mia offered to let me walk down the aisle with Lo, but I can’t do that to her. They’re so in love it's nauseating. Lo went from being the strong silent type to the strong silent type who constantly has his hands on Mia or is kissing her. I just feel so…

  Envious.

  Ugh. Of course I’m envious of them! I thought I would have that one day. Then it all ended abruptly. My life changed forever in more ways than one.

  “Izzy, are you okay?” I look up to find Sofia frowning at me.

  “I’m fine. Sorry, lost in my thoughts. Let’s get you married.”

  She grabs my hand as I turn to walk away.

  “You can walk down with Lo. I can keep him away from you.”

  I let out a cleansing breath. “I appreciate it, babe. Really, I do. I can handle this though. Giovanni’s going to be a part of my life whether I like it or not. Might as well start embracing it instead of fighting it.” I shrug and walk over to the man in question.

  “Izzy, you look gorgeous.”

  I roll my eyes at him. I know he wants us to have another shot, but I just can’t. I never honestly told him why we broke up back then. If he knew, he might not be pushing for a second chance.

  “Only friends call me Izzy. Please call me Isabella.”

  “Really?” He looks exasperated.

  “Let’s just make it through this wedding, Giovanni. Then we can go back to barely speaking.”

  I watch the hurt in his eyes before his mask slips into place.

  “Of course, Isabella. Shall we?” He holds out his arm.

  I reluctantly take it before glancing back at Mia and Lo. Usually they’re so caught up in each other that they don’t notice anyone else. Instead, Mia is giving me a concerned look, and Lo is staring at the back of Giovanni’s head.

  I give Mia a smile and turn back around and face Greer and Matt, the other two bridal party members. Matty is an important part of my life, so seeing Greer, Bash’s younger sister, batting her eyes up at him concerns me. I make a mental note to talk to him later.

  The music starts and the doors open. I take a deep breath. It isn’t me getting married, but the day is still an emotional one for me. I watch as Greer and Matt walk down the aisle. The wedding isn’t a big one—only a couple of the men close to Bash, his mother and sisters, the people from Bello Italiano, and the bridal party. Just like the wedding I wanted to have, small and intimate.

  I glance down and take in Bash standing there looking a little uneasy. For a moment, I’m lost in past dreams. I picture Giovanni standing there looking nervous waiting on me.

  A tug on my arm pulls me out of my daydream. I give a tight smile as I look up at Giovanni before we start our own walk down. I don’t look around. The only person in the seats who means anything to me is Eddie, our cook. I suppose, if you twisted my arm, I would say Dante’s important as well. He’s been guarding me for months and has done well. We haven’t gotten to know each other too much, but he has proven he would protect me.

  At the end of the aisle, Giovanni turns to me and kisses my cheek as Matt did to Greer. Part of me wants to shrink away while another part relishes in the warmth I feel on my skin from his kiss. The tingles that spread through me are not unfamiliar. They remind me of how Giovanni has always made me feel.

  Special. Loved. Cherished. Claimed.

  We split up as I go to the bride's side and he moves to stand next to Bash. I watch Lo and Mia come down the aisle while trying to get my rampant thoughts under control. I watch as they lean into each other as they walk, neither one paying attention to the crowd around them. They’re so caught up in each other that you would think that no one else is even in the room. Before splitting, they share a soft kiss on the lips before each taking their places.

  Mia stands next to me, discreetly grabbing my hand and squeezing. “You okay, Iz?” she whispers.

  I give her a smile. “I am.”

  She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t need to be. The music changes to something slower, and then Sofia’s walking down the aisle with Uncle Tony. My heart hurts knowing I won’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle when the day comes. I shake the thought from my head.

  Instead, I focus on Sofia. Her gown is beautiful—a trumpet style dress that fits her figure perfectly, showing off all her gorgeous curves. The envious feeling comes back.

  I am happy with my body, don’t get me wrong. I’m 5’7” with a slender frame. Honestly, most girls in America would probably kill for my body—not that they should. Even the “skinny” have issues. I sure as hell do. While I do have a tight st
omach, I’m also missing important parts. I only have a B cup chest and a small ass to match. Unlike Sofia. She’s voluminous. She has at least a pair of D’s on her chest with an ass men would kill for.

  I’m saved from any more self-deprecating thoughts when I catch Sofia glaring at someone. My protective side rears up, and I follow her gaze to an older lady. Mrs. Catalini. I remember her from my youth. She had always been beautiful and elegant. She still is, but you can tell time and life has taken its toll on her. I glance back to Sofia and find her eyes are back to Bash’s.

  I look over to Bash and catch him smiling. He had always been dark and broody. You could feel the danger rolling off him. A predator lying in wait to catch his prey. Then he caught Sofia. He’s still dangerous, but I sometimes witness his softer side. It reminds me that he’s human like the rest of us. He’s proved to me that a made man can put someone else before the family. Bash does for Sofia, even if no one but the close few can see it.

  I turn back and watch Sofia give Uncle Tony a kiss on the cheek. He whispers something into her ear, and she tears up but smiles. He takes his seat as Bash takes her hand. They stand in front of the priest. Instead of hearing his words, my mind goes back to a dream from my younger years.

  Do you Giovanni Catalini take Isabella Dellaco to be your lawfully wedded wife?

  My eyes tear up as I realize for the millionth time that it will never be. The love of my life, my soul mate, will never actually be mine. This was supposed to be ours. We were supposed to be married years ago. Instead, I’ve lived my life as a lonely woman, a shell of what I used to be—no, that’s not right. I’m still who I used to be. I’m just much more of a bitch. I let him break down my shallow walls; then he ruined my kingdom. Now my walls are impenetrable.

  Something catches my eye from next to Bash. At first, I think it’s Lo making eyes at Mia, but as I lean a little to my right, I see him.

  Giovanni.

  He isn’t looking at the groom and bride. He’s looking straight at me with similar tears in his eyes. My heart catches. I’ve only ever seen him cry one other time—when we were teens and his father told him his fate. When he realized that he would need to do something drastic if he wanted to change his life.

  He mouths to me.

  I’m sorry.

  I bite my lip so I don’t lose it, because as soon as this ceremony is over, I will need to.

  Giovanni

  I should say that I’ve been present this whole day. Physically I have been, but mentally, I’m in the past. When things were perfect. When my life had meaning. When I had her.

  As soon as I saw her earlier, my mood soared before it dropped. She’s gorgeous. Even when she’s dressed in her plain tee and jeans, I want her. Then she showed up in this olive-colored dress. It covers all her best parts, thank God. While I ache for a glimpse of them, I’m also aware that I would murder anyone else who was blessed enough to lay eyes on them.

  I don’t take my eyes off her the entire ceremony. I watch as tears fill her eyes, and I feel my own come forward. Most would think her tears are happy ones for the couple. Not me. I recognize the pain behind her eyes. I know she’s thinking about the promises we made to each other under the stars. How she once said she wanted to get married in this exact garden when I brought her here once. How she talked about our wedding like it would be the beginning of the rest of our lives.

  Then I fucked it up. I had been young and dumb—torn between wanting to do everything I could do to please her and doing the same for my father. I didn’t know how to do both.

  She made the decision for me when she left.

  Five years. It’s been five years since I’ve been truly happy.

  I feel a nudge to my side. I look back and find Matt.

  “Go,” he hisses at me, and I turn to see the bridal party leaving. Izzy is standing there looking at me expectantly.

  I go to her immediately. She takes my arm without hesitation this time. I want to feel hopeful, but I know she’s merely playing a part. Happy bridesmaid. All she ever does is play parts nowadays. I wonder if Sofia and Mia even know the real her.

  Do they know the girl who once climbed a tree only to prove she could? Do they know that she broke her wrist when she was eight because she thought she could do a cartwheel into the river and ended up smacking her wrist against the bank? Or do they know the way her eyes light up when she laughs? How she’s ticklish behind the knees? Or how she never wanted to be anything other than a housewife who raised our children?

  I have a feeling the answer is no to all of those, and that saddens me. I know she loves those girls, but I also feel like she keeps parts of herself back and I’m to blame. Before me, she was an easygoing, open girl. She would tell everyone her life story. Then I happened. Now she’s a watered-down version of herself. Never fully trusting anyone.

  It kills me that I ruined her. I changed the once bright and bubbly girl into the cold and callous woman she is today. For that alone, I will be sent straight to hell.

  As soon as we exit, Izzy pulls away from me. I don’t stop her now that I’m back in self-loathing mode. I don’t deserve to touch her. I don’t even deserve to be near her.

  “Pictures! We need each of you over here to take pictures,” Sofia yells.

  Izzy walks straight to her and hugs her. I skirt around the room to steal a glimpse of Izzy’s face. She’s beaming at Sofia, but I can tell there is still a tinge of sadness in there.

  “Okay. I need the bridal party here.”

  As they position us, I feel Izzy tense. They have all the men behind the women. They have us wrap our arms around their waists. The women then place their hands on top of ours. We are all turned to face the couple in the middle as they kiss.

  Izzy shivers as my thumb draws circles through her dress. I can’t help but hope every picture requires us to stand just like this. For a moment, I’m able to forget the past and focus on the woman in front of me. The woman who stole my heart when we were teens and never gave it back.

  I lean in and ghost a kiss on the back of her neck. She sucks in a breath.

  “Gio,” she hisses.

  A smile fills my face. She always loved when I kissed her there. I’m glad to discover that didn’t change.

  “Change positions,” the photographer yells and breaks our moment. For a second I wonder if Bash would hate me if I killed her.

  Does he really need pictures?

  ∞∞∞

  After pictures are done, Izzy disappears. She’s obviously hiding from me. I don’t blame her though. I know I should have respected her boundaries. Lord knows she made sure I knew them five years ago.

  Leave me alone, Giovanni. I want nothing to do with you. Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Don’t even think my name. I want nothing to do with you or your fucking family. You say you love me? Then prove it. Respect these boundaries I set for you. Prove to me that you love me by letting me go.

  Those were the last words she spoke to me before Sofia came into our lives. When we would have dinner at Bello Italiano, she would have Mia serve me. I never questioned it. I knew why. I ruined us, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  It wasn’t until Sofia and Bash made a play at love that she slowly started warming up to me.

  I glance across the room from where I’m sitting. I catch a glimpse of her with Mia at the bar. She catches my eye and glares.

  Okay, so maybe not warming up, but she has started talking to me again—even if it’s only to yell at me or curse me out. I’ll take it. I’m a masochist after all.

  We have had several conversations since she came back into my life on a deeper level than just a chance encounter. Each one starts with me begging her to let me explain my actions all those years ago and ends with her telling me she doesn’t want to hear my excuses.

  Doesn’t stop me from trying. One day she will listen to me. She still owes me a conversation from when I put her and the girls on Ivory’s list a couple of months ago. I haven’t called that f
avor in yet though. I want to wait until she’s a little more receptive of my words.

  I watch her for hours as she dances with the girls. That’s all I do with her, watch from afar. I tip back my fifth scotch and stand up to make my way to her. She’s seated in a chair at the edge of the dance floor talking with Mia and Sofia. As I approach, I watch for her reaction.

  She doesn’t tense though. Instead, she looks up at me and smiles. The smile she gives? It stops my world. I almost stumble as I make my way to her.

  “Giovanni. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asks in a flirty tone.

  My heart beats faster. Is she flirting with me? Am I dreaming?

  I cut a look over to Mia and Sofia to find they’re just as shocked as I am, but I won’t let this opportunity pass.

  “Would you like to dance with me?”

  She beams up at me, and for once I observe that she has lowered her mask. She’s excited. I barely resist the urge to pinch myself to make sure it’s not a dream.

  “Sure. Excuse me, girls.” She sways a little as she stands, but I grab her hand and pull her to me to steady her. She giggles, and I’m reminded of the girl from the past, the one I fell in love with.

  I lead her onto the dance floor just as the song turns to a slow one, one talking about dying a happy man. I pull her close as I wrap my arms around her waist. She slides her hands up my chest and around my neck. I’m overcome with true happiness, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

  We sway to the music in silence as she lays her head on my shoulder. Her scent assaults my senses—peaches and a smell that’s uniquely her. I squeeze her tighter as I relish this dance. Near the end, I catch her sigh.

  “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” I swallow hard as I ask the question.

  “Not now, Gio. I’m drunk. I just want to enjoy this moment.”

  “Me too, Izzy. Me too,” I whisper as I nuzzle my face into her neck.

  A new song comes on, but we don’t separate. She continues to dance with me in silence.