Page 26 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

Surprised, I glance around at the crowd. “Now?”

He nods, his expression unreadable but his intent clear. “Now.”

Without waiting for my response, he gestures for me to follow him. My pulse quickens as I fall into step behind him, weaving through the glittering sea of guests until we reach a quieter corner of the terrace. The view here is breathtaking, the lights of the Strip stretching endlessly beneath us.

Carlito turns to face me, his expression softer now, though no less intense. “I wanted to thank you,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “Not just for tonight—for everything. You’ve done more than I ever expected.”

There’s something in his tone that sends a shiver down my spine. It’s not just gratitude—it’s something deeper, something raw.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I say, though my voice wavers slightly. “This is my job.”

His lips twitch into a faint smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You always say that. That it’s just a job. But I see the way you work, Mia. The way you care about every detail. That’s not just professionalism—that’s passion.”

His words strike something deep within me, and I look away, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” I admit quietly. “For you.”

He steps closer, and when I look up, he’s only inches away. The tension between us is palpable now, a magnetic pull that neither of us can seem to resist.

“It is perfect,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

The air between us is electric, charged with the memory of that night in his penthouse. My skin burns under his gaze, and my heart pounds as he lifts a hand, his fingers brushing lightly against my cheek.

“Mia,” he murmurs, and the way he says my name feels like both a question and an answer.

I don’t respond, my breath hitching as he leans in slightly, his dark eyes searching mine. But just as the moment stretches toward something inevitable, he stops, his jaw tightening as he steps back.

“There’s something I need to show you later,” he says, his tone shifting back to its usual control, though his eyes remain softer. “A surprise.”

“A surprise?” I echo, my voice trembling slightly as I try to recover from the intensity of the moment.

He nods, his expression enigmatic. “You’ll see.”

Before I can press him further, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone with the glow of the city lights and the storm of emotions he’s left in his wake.

Chapter 12

Carlito

The gala is a masterpiece. The Venetian Rooftop Terrace shimmers under the night sky, soft golden lights reflecting off polished stone and crystal glasses. The air hums with music and conversation, a perfect blend of elegance and power. Yet, as I stand at the edge of the crowd, my focus isn’t on the success of the event or the high-profile guests mingling under the stars. It’s on Mia.

She’s moving through the crowd with her usual grace, her hazel eyes scanning the terrace to ensure every detail is perfect. She’s in her element, but even now, I catch the tension in her posture, the way she checks her notes with just a little too much precision. She doesn’t see what I do—the quiet brilliance of her work, the way she’s already exceeded every expectation.

I take a deep breath, steadying the thoughts racing through my mind. This moment isn’t just about the gala. It’s about what comes next.

Leo appears at my side, his presence grounding. He speaks low, his voice cutting through the din. “The ring is ready. Are you?”

I glance at him, the weight of the question heavier than it should be. Am I ready? The idea of asking Mia to marry me started as just an idea—a way to boost my status. But somewhere along the way, it became something else.

“Yes,” I reply, my tone firmer than I feel.

Leo nods and steps back, melting into the crowd. My gaze finds Mia again, her chestnut hair catching the light as she laughs softly with Bianca. The sight tugs at something deep in my chest.

This isn’t just about business. It’s about her.

---

The music shifts, a quieter, more romantic tune weaving through the night air. I take it as my cue, striding toward Mia with purpose. She notices me as I approach, her laughter fading as her eyes meet mine.

“Carlito,” she greets, her tone a mix of surprise and warmth.

---