Page 48 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I bit my lip, guilt munching at me as I grabbed a jacket and shoes. “I just need to take care of this.”

He didn’t say anything as I slipped past him, but I could feel his eyes on me, full of questions I wasn’t ready to answer. As I walked down the hall, my chest ached. I hated lying to him, but I needed to be anywhere but here right now.

But Alex needed me, and right now, that was the only thing that mattered.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MIRELLA

The phone buzzed in my hand, the message glaring up at me like a neon sign in the dark. Dahlia’s words were short and to the point:Alex isn’t well. Fever spiked. He’s at the hospital.

She sent it again when I did not respond.

I am on my way.I simply responded.

My heart twisted. Alex. My baby boy. My everything. The words felt like nails hammered into my chest.

I stood there in the hallway, shadows playing on the walls as my mind raced. How could I get back fast enough? Sergio had driven me here, so I had no car to drive back. The rentals Enzo had arranged only do local trips. The flight alone would take hours, and hiring a private jet would raise too many questions. I could call my men—Raven’s men. They’d get me there in record time, but that meant exposing myself. The mask would slip, and once it did, there was no going back.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, thumbing through my phone’s contacts. I hesitated over the encrypted number. One call, one command, and I’d be in the air before anyone could blink. A risk I was willing to take for my son.

But then, a deep voice interrupted my thoughts. “Whatever’s going on, I’m here.”

I turned sharply. Sergio stood at the bottom of the staircase, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He wasn’t supposed tobe there. He wasn’t supposed to see me like this—vulnerable and panicked.

His gaze softened as he stepped closer. “You look like the world just dropped on your shoulders.”

It had. I could barely breathe under the weight of it. “I need a ride back to New York,” I blurted out. “Now.”

He didn’t ask where, why, or what was going on. Sergio wasn’t like that. Instead, he gave a single nod. “Let’s go.”

We didn’t say much as we got into his car. The sleek black interior hummed with the engine’s low purr as we sped down the empty streets. My mind was a whirlwind. The glow of the city blurred past, but all I could see was Alex’s face—his sleepy, beautiful eyes, his shy smile, his tiny hands always reaching for mine.

Sergio’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Where are we going?”

“We’re not going home. Saint Memorial Hospital first.” I responded.

“It didn’t seem like a home emergency. I just asked to be sure.” He paused and gave me a half, concerning smile. “You’re pale,” he added, glancing at me briefly before focusing back on the road. “Whatever this is, it’s serious.”

For a moment, I wanted to fight him on it. But he was right. Alex came first. Always.

When we pulled up to the hospital, I didn’t wait for Sergio to park properly. I was out of the car and through the glass doors before he’d even killed the engine. The pediatric ward smelled like antiseptic and tears, the drone of fluorescent lights adding to the sterile atmosphere.

Dahlia met me halfway, her face a mask of worry. “He’s stable,” she assured me quickly, but her tone wasn’t enough to erase my fear. “The doctor’s with him now.”

I nodded and rushed past her. The sight of Alex lying in that hospital bed nearly broke me. He looked so small, his skin pale against the crisp white sheets.

“Mommy’s here,” I whispered in his ear, scooping him up into my arms. His tiny body fit against me like a missing puzzle piece, his head resting on my shoulder.

“Mommy,” Alex said in a faint voice, almost inaudible, but I heard it. It pained me to see him in such a state and not be able to do anything about it.

I could feel Sergio’s eyes on me when he walked into the room moments later, watching from the doorway like a silent shadow. I didn’t care. My world narrowed to Alex, the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his little hands.

The doctor had a clipboard in hand, his face calm but serious.“It’s nothing to worry about,” he explained. “Just a reaction to the change in weather. It’s common among kids his age.”

Common? There was nothing common about the way my heart clenched in fear. But I nodded, thanking him before kissing Alex’s forehead.

When I turned back, Sergio was still there, leaning against the wall. His face was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something unspoken but heavy.

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