Page 40 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

Her lip trembles, but she doesn’t back down. “Maybe if you stopped treating everyone like pawns in whatever game you’re playing, we wouldn’t have had to pay that price in the first place.”

I open my mouth to respond, but she’s already turning away. Her heels click against the marble as she storms down the hallway, her door slamming shut behind her.

---

The cool morning air greets me as I step onto the balcony. Mia stands at the edge, her hands gripping the railing as she stares out at the skyline. The view is breathtaking—the sprawling expanse of Las Vegas glittering under the rising sun—but there’s no light in her expression.

“Mia,” I say softly, careful not to startle her.

She doesn’t turn, her shoulders stiff. “What’s going on, Carlito?”

Her voice is calm, but the weight of her words is anything but.

I walk closer, stopping just a few steps behind her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She lets out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the quiet. “Don’t do that,” she says, finally turning to face me. Her hazeleyes burn with frustration. “Don’t pretend everything’s normal when it’s not. Dario is dead. Bianca’s falling apart. And you’re... you’re so distant. It’s like you’re holding the world on your shoulders, and I’m just supposed to sit here and ignore it.”

I meet her gaze, the urge to tell her everything rising in my chest. But I push it down. “I’m trying to protect you,” I say, the words coming out harsher than I intended.

“Protect me?” she repeats, her voice rising. “From what, Carlito? From who? You keep saying that, but you don’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t even let me in?”

Her words sting because they’re true.

I step closer, my hand reaching for hers. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t relax either. “Mia,” I say, my tone softening, “there are things I can’t tell you. Not yet. But everything I’m doing is for you. For Bianca. For us.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” she snaps, yanking her hand away. “You sound like you’re reading from a script. How do I know you’re not just... lying to me?”

The accusation hits harder than Bianca’s earlier outburst. I close the distance between us, my hands landing on her shoulders. “I would never lie to you,” I say, my voice low and firm. “I can’t give you answers right now, but you have to trust me.”

Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I think she might relent. But then she shakes her head, her frustration boiling over. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispers.

The words hang between us, heavy and suffocating. I feel something snap inside me—a mix of anger, guilt, and desperation. Before I can stop myself, I tilt her chin up and capture her lips with mine.

The kiss is rough, fueled by the storm raging inside both of us. She resists at first, her hands pressing against my chest as if to push me away. But then something shifts. Her resistance melts into heat, her fingers clutching the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer.

The intensity between us builds, the argument forgotten as our emotions spill over. But even as the moment deepens, I know this connection can’t erase the secrets still standing between us.

The world narrows to the space between us. Her fingers clutch my shirt, her body pressed close to mine as if trying to bridge the gap our words couldn’t. For a fleeting moment, everything else falls away—the danger, the lies, the weight of what I’m keeping from her.

But reality crashes back too quickly.

Mia pulls away first, her breathing heavy, her lips swollen from the kiss. She takes a step back, her arms wrapping around herself as if to shield her emotions from me. “This doesn’t fix anything,” she says, her voice trembling.

“I know,” I admit, my own voice low.

She looks at me, her hazel eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I just... I don’t know how to do this, Carlito. How am I supposed to trust you when it feels like you’re always hiding something?”

Her question pierces through me, leaving me at a loss for words.

Before I can respond, the sound of my phone vibrating on the table inside interrupts us. The sharp noise is like a bucket of cold water poured over the moment, and Mia turns away, walking back into the penthouse without another word.

---

I follow her inside, watching as she disappears down the hallway toward the bedrooms. My phone continues to buzz, dragging me back into the present.

I pick it up, the name on the screen instantly sharpening my focus:Leo.

“What is it?” I answer, my voice clipped.

---