Page 64 of Brando

BRANDO

Iglance over at Mia, standing next to Mason Ironside. Her arms are folded across her chest, a stance that’s both defiant and grounded as she listens to Scar outline the plan for the night. Now that we’re stuck with her, we’ve had to include her in what’s going on; I would never allow a blind man in to battle, so why would I keep her in the dark when I need her to be aware of every step we’re taking, for her own safety?

The air around us is heavy with tension. The docks are quiet, but the hum of activity in the shadows tells a different story. The containers, loaded with God-knows-what, are slated to ship out in the early hours of the morning, but we’ve gotten here hours ahead of schedule—our operation already in motion.

Scar finishes his call, slipping the phone into the pocket of his jacket. He scans the group of men gathered around him—nearly two dozen of us, including the Gatti brothers, Mason, and the Enforcer. The Maltese crew stands off to one side, the usual tension swirling in the air. I’ve heard the whispers, the murmurs about them being involved. But to be honest, they’ve been loyal. Loyalty is a rare commodity in this world, and I’ll give credit where it’s due.

“Dante Accardi’s got a contact in Missing Persons,” Scar announces, his voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd. “He’s sending someone to help identify the people we’ve found. They’ll be placed in safe houses and get the medical attention they need.”

I don’t listen to the rest. My mind is elsewhere—focused on the woman standing beside Mason, her every move somehow both infuriating and magnetic. Fifty-four men, women, and children have been rescued so far from the containers, their faces haunted and blank from the horrors they’ve endured. I don’t even know how many more are still hidden away in the dark corners of this hellhole.

But none of that matters right now.

What matters is her.

Mia.

I’m still furious at her for defying me, for putting herself in harm’s way. The last thing I want is to see her in danger again. But, if I’m honest, I can’t shake the feeling that if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have uncovered the horrors hidden in those containers. Her instincts have always been sharp—maybe sharper than mine—and in that moment, when everything was going to shit, I realized just how much her presence here has meant to the outcome of the night. She saved lives tonight. More than she knows.

Her eyes find mine, cutting through the noise floating through the air. Time seems to slow, the world around us blurring until it’s just the two of us, locked in an unspoken understanding, the weight of everything we've been through—and everything we still have to face—between us.

I’m still angry at her, but it’s not the kind of anger I’d like to admit. It’s a primal, guttural kind of anger—the kind that comes from a place deep inside me, one I can’t control. It’s a need to protect her. To keep her close. Because the thought of her outthere—on her own, with no one to shield her from the monsters lurking in the shadows—sends something dark twisting through my chest.

And that’s when it hits me. The truth I’ve been running from. The feelings I’ve been lying to myself about.

I’m in love with Mia.

I’ve always been in love with her. Maybe since I was ten, and she was nine. Even after the mess with Falcone, when she walked away from me and put her hand in his, I never stopped loving her. The girls who came after her—they never meant anything. Not really. They were pretty, charming, but they were nothing more than distractions. None of them ever came close to her. To Mia.

I’m not sure when it happened, when she crossed the line from childhood friend to something else, but here I am. Staring at her across the concrete playground of the docks, realizing that I’ve never been able to let go of the one person who truly owns my heart.

“She’s beautiful,” Lucky’s voice breaks through the silence in my head, dragging my focus back to the present.

I blink and turn toward him. Lucky’s standing next to me now, watching Mia with the same calculating gaze that I’ve grown used to seeing on him. It’s impossible to hide anything from him—he’s known me too long. His smirk, though, tells me he already knows what I’m thinking.

I don’t respond right away, my eyes flicking back to Mia. She’s still talking to Mason, but her posture, her presence, is unmistakable. There’s a fire in her that matches my own—a fire that burns hot and dangerous, and I know it’s only a matter of time before we both get burned.

“Yeah,” I mutter, my voice low, fighting to keep my emotions in check. “She is.”

Lucky glances at me, then back at Mia, his smirk widening. “I don’t know why you’re still pretending, Brando. You think you’re fooling anyone?” He nudges me with his elbow, a silent command for me to pay attention. “You’ve been in love with her since forever. You can’t keep dodging it. It’s written all over your face.”

My jaw tightens, and I take a deep breath, my eyes narrowing as I force myself to look away from Mia. “She doesn’t belong in our world,” I remind him.

But Lucky only laughs, unbothered by the edge in my voice. “Brother, she was born into our world.”

I freeze at the reminder, my heart thudding heavily in my chest. Our world is a dangerous place to be. The very thought that something could happen to her because of her proximity to our chaos slices at something deep inside me.

Lucky doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he takes a long look around at all the men assembled together, considering his words carefully before he turns to look at me with a knowing glint in his eye.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s the same fear we all have. Scar had it with Allegra. You have it with Mia, and Rafi and I will probably feel the exact same way when it comes time for us to deal with the same shit.” His lip curls up as though the very thought of him falling for someone disgusts him. “But you can’t live your life based on what-ifs, Brando. You can’t keep holding on to what’s happened in the past.”

I know he’s referring to our Aunt Thalia and my twin brother Christiano. Both lives lost tragically way before we were ready to see them go. Our father lost Aunt Thalia in a hail of bullets we later learned was orchestrated by our own mother. He never got over his only sister’s death. And then Christiano; his death was also the product of our mother’s negligence. I can’t denythat both deaths have weighed heavily upon me. He pauses for a moment, his eyes hardening.

“You’ve got to stop acting like she’s some... liability. You can’t protect her by keeping her at arm’s length. You can’t control her, Brando. She’s the one who controls you.”

I swallow hard, Lucky’s words echoing in my mind as my pulse begins to race. He’s right. I’ve spent too long pretending I’m not drowning in this damn mess of feelings. But I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t just give her everything I have—not when this world we live in might swallow us whole at any moment.

“I’m not going to screw this up,” I mutter, more to myself than to Lucky.

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