Page 46 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

When Carlito finally steps into the room, the door clicking shut behind him, the tension feels palpable. He’s dressed sharply, as always, but there’s an air of weariness about him that I can’t ignore. His gaze meets mine, dark and guarded.

“Mia,” he says, his voice low and steady, “you should be resting.”

“Don’t,” I say, cutting him off. My voice is sharper than I intended, but I don’t back down. “Don’t tell me to rest. I need answers, Carlito. No more deflecting.”

His jaw tightens as he approaches, stopping a few steps away. “What do you want to know?”

I rise from the chair, closing the distance between us. “Everything,” I demand. “About the inheritance. About Matteo Russo. About the person who’s sending me messages, warning me about you. I’m done being in the dark.”

For a moment, Carlito doesn’t respond. His silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, almost reluctant. “You’re not ready for the truth, Mia.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I snap, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “Do you think I can’t handle it? That I’m some fragile doll you need to protect? I’m carrying your child, Carlito. I deserve to know what kind of world I’ve been dragged into.”

His eyes flicker with something—pain, perhaps—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he says finally. “You deserve the truth.”

I hold my breath as he steps closer, his towering presence both intimidating and reassuring.

“I’m not just the man you married,” he begins, his voice heavy with gravity. “I’m the head of the Marcelli family. A Mafia Don. One of the most powerful in Las Vegas.”

The words hang in the air, each syllable sinking into me like stones.

For a moment, I can’t move, can’t speak. “A... Mafia Don?” I whisper, the disbelief thick in my voice.

“Yes,” he says, his gaze steady on mine. “Everything I’ve done—every decision I’ve made—it’s been to protect you and Bianca. To keep you out of this world as much as possible.”

My knees feel weak, but I force myself to stay upright. The weight of his confession settles over me, suffocating and surreal.

Before I can process Carlito’s words, the sound of Bianca’s voice cuts through the air like a blade: “You’re what?”

Both Carlito and I turn toward the door to see Bianca standing there, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Her hands tremble as she clutches the edge of the doorway, her knuckles white against the dark wood.

“Bianca,” Carlito says, his voice calm but firm.

She steps into the room, shaking her head as if trying to process what she just heard. “You’re joking, right? A Mafia Don? This is some sick joke.”

Carlito straightens, his expression unreadable. “It’s not a joke,” he says evenly.

Bianca lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “So, all this time, you’ve been lying to us? To me? You’ve let us live in this bubble, thinking you’re just a businessman, while you’re out there... what? Running some criminal empire?”

“It was never about lying to you,” Carlito says, his tone steady but laced with an edge of frustration. “It was about keeping you safe.”

“Safe?” Bianca snaps, her voice rising. “Dario is dead, and you’re telling me this was all to keep us safe? How do you even say that with a straight face?”

Her words hit like a whip, and for a moment, the room falls silent. I glance at Carlito, whose jaw tightens, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I did everything I could to protect Dario,” he says quietly, his voice thick with restrained emotion. “But this isn’t about him. It’s about us. About making sure no one else gets hurt.”

Bianca’s laugh is bitter, filled with pain. “Us? There is no ‘us,’ Dad. You’ve been playing God with our lives, making decisions without telling us the truth. How do you expect me to trust anything you say now?”

“Bianca,” I say softly, stepping toward her.

She whirls on me, her green eyes blazing. “And you—how can you just stand there? He’s been lying to you too! He dragged you into this mess, Mia.”

Her words cut deep, but I force myself to stay calm. “I’m trying to understand,” I say, my voice steady but firm. “I don’t like being lied to, but I know Carlito wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t think it was necessary.”

Bianca scoffs, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Necessary? You sound just like him. Always justifying everything. But guess what? None of this feels justified to me.”

Carlito takes a step forward, his gaze fixed on Bianca. “I’ve made mistakes,” he admits, his voice low but resolute. “But every choice I’ve made has been to protect you and Mia. You might not understand it now, but I did what I had to do.”

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