Page 24 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us, the hum of activity around us fading into the background. I’m reminded of how much she doesn’t know—about me, about the risks surrounding this gala. About how much more complicated her life is about to become.

“Mia,” I begin, my voice quieter now.

She tilts her head slightly, waiting.

Before I can continue, Leo’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and efficient. “Carlito.”

I turn to see him waiting near the terrace entrance, his expression unreadable but his presence a reminder of the responsibilities I can’t ignore.

“I’ll leave you to finish here,” I say, stepping back.

Mia watches me for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, but she simply nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I glance back as I leave the terrace, taking in the way the sunlight catches her hair, the way she stands tall despite the pressure bearing down on her.

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Leo falls into step beside me as we descend the staircase, his tone low and measured. “Everything is progressing as expected. But there’s still no update on the man she saw.”

“Keep looking,” I say curtly. “I want to know who he is and why he’s here.”

Leo nods, his silence conveying more than words ever could. He knows the stakes as well as I do—knows what’s at risk if this gala goes wrong.

As we reach the ground floor, I pause, my gaze drifting back toward the terrace. Mia’s shadow is visible against the skyline, a reminder of how much has shifted since she stepped into my life.

“This is the final push,” I murmur, more to myself than to Leo. “Tomorrow, Mia is in for the surprise of her life and I hope she doesn’t let me down.”

Chapter 11

Mia

The Venetian Rooftop Terrace is unrecognizable. What was a blank canvas just days ago now glows with opulent décor, soft lighting casting a golden hue over the elegantly draped tables and the polished stone tiles. Floral arrangements—bold yet understated—adorn every corner, their fragrant blooms perfectly complementing the luxurious setting. The shimmering lights of the Las Vegas Strip provide a dramatic backdrop, reflecting in the glass panels that frame the terrace.

I step onto the terrace, the murmur of guests mingling blending with the gentle strains of a live quartet. The atmosphere is charged with energy, a mixture of awe and expectation that makes the air hum.

I take a moment to absorb the scene, pride swelling in my chest. This is my work, my vision brought to life. Every detail, from the flickering votive candles to the seamless flow of the seating arrangements, speaks to weeks of meticulous planning.

Bianca spots me from across the terrace, her dark curls bouncing as she makes her way over. She throws her arms around me in a hug so tight it almost knocks the air from my lungs.

“You did it, Mia!” she exclaims, pulling back to beam at me. “I knew you could.”

“Thanks, Bianca,” I reply, my voice thick with emotion. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and for the first time tonight, I allow myself a real smile.

She squeezes my shoulders before stepping back. “Seriously, it’s perfect. Even Daddy will have to admit it.” With a wink, she spins on her heel and disappears into the crowd, her laughter trailing behind her.

I let out a breath and glance around, my attention darting from one detail to the next. Guests are arriving in a steady stream now, their designer suits and shimmering gowns adding to the sense of grandeur. Among them are high-profile figures I recognize from the guest list—politicians, business magnates, and members of prominent families. Their presence sets my nerves buzzing, but I remind myself that this is exactly what Carlito wanted.

Carlito.

The thought of him stirs something in me, a mixture of anticipation and unease. I haven’t seen him yet tonight, but I know he’s here somewhere, watching, waiting.

I catch sight of Leo near the entrance, his ever-watchful gaze scanning the crowd. His presence, like always, is a quiet reminder of the stakes. Security is tight, but the memory of the stranger from the meeting the other day lingers at the edge of my mind.

Shaking off the unease, I refocus on the task at hand. A waiter passes by with a tray of champagne flutes, and I take one, the cool glass grounding me as I sip. Tonight is about celebrating the success of this event, a culmination of everything I’ve worked for.

As I move through the crowd, nodding politely to guests and checking on the staff, I can’t help but reflect on how far I’ve come. Just weeks ago, I was sitting in Bianca’s penthouse, clutching a folder of notes and wondering if I was in over my head. Now, I’m standing at the center of an event that could solidify my career.

But it’s not just my career on the line tonight—it’s my heart.

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