Page 50 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

Chapter 23

Mia

The cool evening air brushes against my skin as I step onto the balcony, seeking some semblance of peace after confronting Carlito. The glow of the Las Vegas skyline stretches out before me, but its beauty feels hollow, a sharp contrast to the storm inside me.

Bianca’s departure cuts deeper than I expected. She’s always been strong, a fiery force who could face anything head-on. But now she’s gone, driven away by grief and the weight of this world. My chest tightens at the thought. She didn’t even say goodbye to me.

I lean against the railing, gripping the cold metal as if it can anchor me. Was she right to leave? Could I ever walk away from Carlito and this tangled life?

A faint sound—like the scuff of a shoe—breaks through my thoughts. I stiffen, my grip tightening. Turning my head slowly, I search the shadows, my pulse quickening.

“Lost in thought?”

The voice is low and smooth, sending a jolt of alarm through me. My breath catches as I whirl around, my eyes darting to the edge of the balcony.

A man steps forward, his features partially obscured by the dim light. He’s tall and lean, his stance casual but deliberate. Something about him feels familiar, a nagging sense of recognition I can’t place.

“Who are you?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.

He raises his hands slightly, a mockery of surrender. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you.”

My heart pounds, but I hold my ground. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He chuckles softly, the sound devoid of humor. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” He tilts his head, stepping into the light just enough for me to catch the sharp angles of his face.

The familiarity clicks like a puzzle piece snapping into place. My mind flashes back to the rooftop at the gala—the man who stared at me, the one Carlito’s guards were looking for.

“Dominic,” I breathe, taking a step back.

His smirk deepens, though there’s no warmth in it. “That’s more like it.”

“What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice steady despite the rising panic in my chest.

He leans casually against the railing, as if we’re old friends having a chat. “I slipped in when the gates opened. Someone was leaving. A woman in a hurry—looked angry. Your sister, maybe?”

Bianca. The thought of him watching her—even briefly—makes my stomach churn.

“Why are you here?” I press, my tone sharper now.

His smirk fades, replaced by something colder. “To tell you the truth. Or at least as much as you can handle.”

My hands clench into fists at my sides. “And why should I trust you?”

His dark eyes meet mine, unflinching. “Because I’m the only one willing to tell you what Carlito won’t. Starting with your inheritance.”

I don’t flinch, but my chest tightens. “What could you possibly tell me that I don’t already know?”

Dominic’s smirk falters, replaced by a colder, more calculating expression. “You think you know everything, little sister? That Carlito’s been honest with you about what you’re tangled in?”

His words hit a nerve, and I can’t hide my frustration. “Carlito told me the truth—about my inheritance, about Matteo’s interest in it. And he told me about you.”

Something flickers in Dominic’s gaze—surprise? Amusement?—before he takes a slow step closer. “Did he tell you why Matteo really wants the property? Or did he just feed you enough to keep you complacent?”

I hesitate, my mind racing. Carlito said the property was leverage, a piece of my father’s legacy Matteo wanted to exploit. But the way Dominic phrases it feels... heavier.

“You’re stalling,” I say, folding my arms. “If you know something I don’t, just say it.”

Dominic exhales, his jaw tightening. “It’s not just about the property, Mia. It’s what’s in it. Matteo believes your father left something hidden—something powerful enough to tip the balance of power in this war. And he’s willing to tear apart anyone standing in his way to get it.”

---