Page 52 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

The penthouse feels heavier this evening as the light begins to fade. The tension clinging to the air like a storm waiting to break. My eyes follow Mia as she brushes past me, her movements sharp, her energy off. Whatever she’s hiding, it’s written all over her.

“You’re lying, Mia,” I say, keeping my tone calm but edged with steel. “What are you hiding from me?”

She stops, her back to me, her hand hovering near the hallway wall. I wait for her to turn around, to face me with the truth or at least an explanation. Instead, she exhales a slow, measured breath and continues walking, her voice clipped as she throws the words over her shoulder.

“Goodnight, Carlito.”

The door to our bedroom clicks shut, and the sound feels louder than it should. My jaw clenches, frustration bubbling under my skin. Mia’s always been strong-willed, but this… this is different. She’s shutting me out in a way she never has before.

I linger near the hallway for a moment, debating whether to follow her, to demand the answers I know she’s withholding. But the weight of today’s events—Bianca leaving, Matteo’s growing threat, and now Mia’s secrecy—presses against me like a vice. I turn away, heading back to the living room, but my eyes catch the sliding glass door leading to the balcony.

A faint mark on the railing pulls me closer. It’s subtle, barely there—a smudge that could easily be missed. But combined with Mia’s behavior, it’s enough to set my instincts on edge. Someone was out here.

I step onto the balcony, the late evening air cutting through the tension in my chest. My gaze sweeps over the space, scanning for anything out of place, but the city lights below blur into a haze of suspicion.

The sound of knuckles rapping against the penthouse door pulls me back inside. Leo stands in the doorway, his expression as grim as ever.

“We’ve got a problem,” he says, stepping in without waiting for an invitation.

“When don’t we?” I mutter, shutting the door behind him.

“Matteo’s men are testing our defenses,” Leo explains. “They’ve been scouting the inheritance property all day, but this evening they got bolder. They’re making moves.”

I let out a string of curses under my breath, my hand running through my hair. Matteo’s timing couldn’t be worse. With Mia on edge and Bianca gone, the cracks in my control are widening by the minute.

“I want double the guard detail,” I say, my voice firm. “No gaps, no blind spots. If Matteo’s men so much as breathe in the wrong direction, I want to know about it.”

“It’s already in motion,” Leo replies. He hesitates, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But what about Mia? Something’s off with her.”

I stiffen, my gaze hardening. “She’s hiding something.”

Leo doesn’t respond, but the look he gives me is enough. He knows as well as I do that secrets in our world are never harmless.

As he leaves, I find myself staring at the closed bedroom door again. Whatever Mia’s keeping from me, it’s only a matter of time before it surfaces. And when it does, I’ll be ready.

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The penthouse feels too quiet, the kind of silence that amplifies every stray thought. I try to focus on the reports Leo sent earlier,pages spread across the coffee table, but my mind keeps circling back to Mia.

Whatever happened on that balcony earlier on has her rattled. Her quiet detachment, the way she avoided my eyes—it’s unlike her. And that only makes it worse.

I rise from the couch, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension coiled there. Stepping toward the glass doors leading to the balcony, I find myself drawn to the place where I know she stood earlier. The evening has faded into night and the city lights stretch endlessly, mocking the illusion of control I’ve spent years building.

As I stare into the night, the sound of soft footsteps reaches me. I turn to see Mia emerging from the hallway, her silhouette framed by the dim light spilling from the kitchen. She’s changed into a loose-fitting robe, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, but her expression is guarded.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, my voice breaking the stillness.

Her steps falter slightly before she joins me by the balcony doors. “No,” she admits quietly. “I guess I have too much on my mind.”

The understatement stings. “You’re not the only one,” I reply, crossing my arms as I lean back against the glass.

Her lips tighten, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The tension between us stretches taut, like a wire ready to snap.

Finally, she exhales, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t want to fight with you, Carlito.”

“Then don’t,” I say, my tone firmer than I intend. “But if you’re keeping something from me, Mia, you need to tell me now. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

Her head snaps toward me, her hazel eyes narrowing. “You keep saying that, like I don’t understand the stakes. But have you ever thought that maybe you’re the one keeping too much from me?”

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