Page 54 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

My breath catches, and I lean forward instinctively. This isn’t like him—Carlito doesn’t share his thoughts so freely, especially when it comes to Matteo.

“I’ve been keeping things from you, Mia,” he admits, his tone tinged with regret. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because I didn’t want you to carry this weight.”

“But now you’re telling me?” I press, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and hope.

His jaw tightens. “Because I can’t keep you safe if you don’t know what’s at stake.”

Carlito steps closer, his hands resting on the back of the chair across from me. “Matteo believes your inheritance property holds something hidden. Something your father left behind.”

I blink, the weight of his words sinking in. “Something hidden?”

“A ledger,” Carlito explains. “It contents contains some kind of leverage that could dismantle his entire empire if it fell into the wrong hands—or the right ones.”

I stare at him, my mind racing. My father’s property isn’t just a sentimental piece of my past; it’s a weapon. And if Carlito is right, Matteo will stop at nothing to claim it.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I demand, my voice rising despite the lump forming in my throat.

Carlito sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Because I didn’t want you to feel responsible for something you didn’t choose. I wanted to handle it myself.”

His honesty disarms me, but it doesn’t erase the frustration boiling inside. “You should have trusted me,” I say quietly. “I can’t stand being kept in the dark while you fight battles I don’t even understand.”

“I know,” he says, his gaze softening. “That’s why I’m telling you now.”

The vulnerability in his voice twists something deep inside me. Carlito isn’t just protecting me—he’s protecting our child, our future. But his reluctance to trust me fully feels like a shadow between us, one I’m not sure how to dispel.

As the silence stretches between us, I glance down at the documents, a flicker of determination sparking within me. If this ledger is what Matteo wants, then understanding it is the first step to protecting myself—and everyone I care about.

Carlito’s honesty leaves a weight in the room, an unspoken invitation for me to meet him halfway. My hands tremble as I shuffle the documents, avoiding his gaze. I’ve been keeping something from him, something that now feels impossible to bury.

“I need to tell you something too,” I say, my voice barely audible.

Carlito’s brow furrows, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. “Mia, what is it?”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “Last evening... I spoke to Dominic.”

His expression freezes, the warmth of his earlier vulnerability replaced by an icy edge. “What?”

I nod, gripping the edge of the table as if it can steady me. “He was here—on the balcony. He slipped onto the property when Bianca left. He wanted to warn me about Matteo and the inheritance.”

Carlito moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. “You didn’t think to tell me this sooner?”

“I wanted to,” I insist, my voice rising. “But I didn’t know how. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could trust you to tell me the whole truth.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I fear I’ve pushed him too far. But then he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “What did he tell you?”

“That the property—my inheritance—it’s not just land or money,” I say, gesturing to the documents. “There’s something hidden there. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but he was certain it’s critical to Matteo’s plans.”

Carlito’s expression darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Of course, Dominic would know just enough to be dangerous.”

“He also said...” I hesitate, my chest tightening. “He said you weren’t telling me everything. That there are things about this war I don’t understand.”

Carlito’s gaze snaps back to mine, his anger barely restrained. “And you believed him?”

“I don’t know what to believe,” I admit, my voice cracking. “But I had to hear him out, Carlito. For our sake. For our child’s.”

The mention of our child seems to pierce through his fury. He steps back, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to regain control. “Mia, Dominic is dangerous. He works for Matteo. Anything he says is designed to manipulate you.”

“I know that,” I say firmly. “But what if he’s right? What if understanding this ledger—what’s really at stake—is the key to ending all of this?”

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