Page 16 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I turned down the hall, and Dahlia’s slim figure appeared, heading toward me. She was more than just my assistant. She’d been my lifeline since Alex was born, almost like a sister—and there was no one else I could trust to be with him.

“Dahlia,” I whispered, careful not to wake Alex, “how’s he been settling in here?”

She crossed her arms, flashing me a reassuring smile. “You know him, Mirella—quiet but resilient. He’s handling the move just fine. You worry too much.”

I nodded, sighing, as the relief spread over me. “I can’t help it. You know how reserved he is. But he’s adjusting well, right?”

“Better than most kids would, I’d say,” she said, her tone confident. “Alex has always adapted to change. It’s in his nature, just like it’s in yours.”

A warmth grew in my chest as I looked down the hallway, imagining Alex sound asleep in his bed. But the guilt wasn’t far behind, creeping up the sides of that warmth, reminding me that the more time I spent here, the less time I had for him. I glanced back at Dahlia, setting my voice low. “Keep an eye on him. All the time. I want an update every six hours, even if it’s just a ‘he’s fine.’”

Dahlia smiled with a slight nod. “Consider it done. You don’t have to worry about him while you’re taking care of business. We’ve got it covered here.”

I forced a smile, though my mind lingered on the plan in front of me, the risks, and the time it would take. “Thank you, Dahlia. It’s only temporary,” I whispered, more for myself than her. “One day, I’ll get us both out of this.”

Dahlia’s warm gaze lingered on me, and I knew she understood. Giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, I turned and headed toward my room, hoping to drown myself in work and strategy. But as soon as the door closed behind me, Sergio’s face came to mind again.

Why did he have to warn me like that? And why did it have to come from him?

I sank down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sergio. He was impossible, that was certain. I hadn’t seen him in years, but one look at him tonight had rattled me in a way I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just because he was the enemy’s son now or the warning he’d thrown at me. No, it was something more, something that tugged at old memories I’d long buried. Memories of two kids who used to dare each other to climb the highest tree in the parkand who used to run through the central park square laughing and teasing.

My hand drifted to my lips, an old habit I’d developed when I was deep in thought, and a wry smile crept up on me.

My first kiss.

Sergio had been my first kiss. The thought was almost funny now, the way we’d hidden behind his family’s big cherry tree, giggling like two fools. The thrill of it was far too much for two kids. I could still remember how he’d looked at me, with those same dark brown eyes—serious, even then. He’d had this way of holding my gaze that made me feel like the only girl in the world.

Stop it, Mirella.

I scolded myself, rolling my eyes. I had no business romanticizing memories of some childhood crush. Those things were innocent and meaningless. Sergio probably didn’t even remember any of it. We’d both grown up and moved on. Yet, the feelings he’d stirred up in me tonight felt anything but childish.

I sat up, rubbing my temples. Maybe he’d warned me because he was… what? Trying to scare me off? Or maybe he was just being the same reckless kid I used to know, trying to play some game. I shouldn’t give him any more thought. He was danger wrapped in that handsome exterior, and I was smart enough to know better.

But you don’t feel like ignoring him, do you?

The thought caught me off guard, and I let out a frustrated groan. This wasn’t how I’d planned things. Sergio was supposed to be just another face in the mob hierarchy, another link in a chain I had to pull tight.

With a huff, I kicked off my shoes and moved to the window, looking out into the quiet night. I had enough monsters to face without adding this man to the list. But it was hard not to think about him. He’d grown up, just like I had. Gone was the boy who’d dared me to steal a basket of oranges from the store. In his place was a man, one whose presence now came with a different kind of thrill—a warning.

But despite my better judgment, I could still see those dark brown eyes, the way they’d looked at me tonight. I hated the little flicker of warmth that rose up when I did. I was ridiculous. I wasn’t some naive girl anymore. I was here with a plan, and I wasn’t about to let the past ruin it.

And yet, the memory of his hand reaching out toward me, the same way he used to, stayed with me.

You’re making connections that aren’t there, I reminded myself firmly, shaking my head as if I could shake him out of it. Sergio and I weren’t kids anymore. Whatever we’d once been was just a story from a lifetime ago.

***

Standing outside the heavy oak door of Don Carlos’s office, I pressed myself against the wall, half hidden in the shadow. I wanted to walk right in, but the loud echoes had stopped me. The low rumble of voices drifted out through the crack in the door, just enough for me to catch fragments of an argument brewing inside. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but then again, curiosity had always been my fatal flaw. Especially when it came to Don Carlos—and, well, Sergio.

Sergio’s voice rose above his father’s, rough and accusing. “You had no right to go after him, and you know it! He was unarmed; he wasn’t a threat!”

I raised an eyebrow. Sergio questioning his father? This was a side I hadn’t expected.

Don Carlos’s laugh was dark and hollow. “You’re getting soft, boy. You think anyone in our world gets to play by the rules? You do what’s necessary, no matter the cost. That’s how you survive.”

There was a pause, and then Sergio’s voice hardened. “That’s not survival. It’s a massacre. And it’s wrong. There are lines, and you crossed them.”

The old man scoffed. “Morals? You’re wasting my time with morals now, Sergio? This is about more than you, more than me—this is about our legacy.”

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