Page 26 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

“I didn’t think you’d stay quiet this long,” I teased, breaking the silence. “Isn’t this the part where you make some sarcastic comment?”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I was trying to give you a chance to start. Thought you’d appreciate the gesture.”

“Very considerate of you.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “You’re still the same, you know? That fire. That stubborn streak.”

“And you’re still as annoying as ever,” I shot back, though my tone lacked the bite.

He chuckled, but the sound carried a hint of something heavier. His gaze dropped to the table before meeting mine again. “I wasn’t always like this. I was once a calm puppy.” He lifted his head, and his gaze locked with mine.

“Why are you staring?” I asked, feigning annoyance as I picked at the bread on the table.

“You’ve changed,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He smirked, the kind that made my chest tighten. “It’s an observation. You’re different. Stronger. But there’s still something familiar about you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. His words felt like a double-edged sword, cutting through my carefully constructed armor while simultaneously drawing me closer to him.

“What about you?” I countered. “You’ve changed too. You left. Disappeared. The Sergio I knew growing up would never have done that.”

His expression shifted, the smirk fading. For a moment, he looked away, his gaze fixed on the fountain outside. “I didn’t want to leave, Mirella. But after my mom died…” His voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I couldn’t stay.”

Hearing him talk about his mother was like peeling back a layer I thought was long gone. I remembered her—a kind woman with a warm smile who used to bring us cookies when we played in the garden. Her death had been sudden and brutal. It shook us all, but Sergio most of all.

I leaned slightly forward—curious. “I know it was hard for you, but I tried to reach out to you, Sergio. You pushed me away. You didn’t return my call or message. You just shut everyone out.”

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “After my mom died, everything changed. I wasn’t the same kid anymore. Losing her... it messed me up. I couldn’t comprehend my feelings. I thought of ending it all more times than I would want to admit. I could have saved her, but I didn’t. That broke me, and I held on to that guilt for a long time.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Sergio, I had no idea. You never said anything.”

“Would it have mattered?” His voice was low, almost bitter. “She was gone. My dad became... well, you know how he is. And I couldn’t stick around to watch him turn into someone I barely recognized. He had always been a monster, but when she died, he became a beast. So, I left. That felt like the only way I could drown out the noise.”

“Why the military?” I asked softly, not wanting to push too hard but needing to know.

“It felt like the only way to escape,” he admitted. “After she died, my father wasn’t the same, like I already mentioned. All he cared about was business and power. There was no space for grief in our house and no room to breathe. I thought maybe if I left, I could find some kind of peace.”

I leaned forward slightly, resting my elbows on the table. “And did you?”

“Peace?” He let out a bitter laugh. “No. But I found purpose. The military gave me structure and discipline. It made me forget—at least for a while.”

I wanted to reach across the table and take his hand and tell him he didn’t have to carry that weight alone. But I didn’t. Instead, I stayed silent, letting his words hang in the air.

“What about you?” he asked, his gaze locking onto mine. “You disappeared too, Mirella. For five years. What happened?”

His question hit harder than I expected. I looked down at my plate, suddenly feeling exposed. “Life happened,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “My father’s business was falling apart, and I had to step up. I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s not the whole story,” he pressed, his tone gentle but firm. “You were always the one who stayed, Mirella. What made you leave? I heard about the incident at your wedding with my father, how a masked man came, the video my father played. The Mirella I knew would still have stayed. Why did you leave?”

I hesitated, the truth lingering on the tip of my tongue. How could I tell him that I left because I couldn’t bear the emptiness I had created? I wanted to talk about the stranger—the man I had fallen in love with and who had changed my life in a night and how he had played hero and lost his life trying to save me. I wanted to tell him that every corner of this city reminded me of him, of us, of what we never had.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said finally, forcing a smile. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he reached across the table and took my hand in his. His touch was warm and steady, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“We lost a lot, Mirella,” he muttered quietly. “But some things don’t change.”

---