Page 77 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I didn’t know what to say. The words caught in my throat.

“I thought I was doing what was best,” he continued. “But I see now how wrong I was. I see the weight you’ve carried because of my choices.”

I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I forgave you a long time ago, Papi. All I wanted was to get you back. That’s all that ever mattered to me.”

He looked at me, his expression softening. “And now?”

“Now, I’m just glad you’re here,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His grip on my hand tightened. “I’ll make it up to you, Mirella. I swear it.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips. “But if you really want to, you can start by letting Alex teach you how to fold a swan. Apparently, he’s an expert.”

He laughed, the sound filling the room in a way that made it feel a little warmer.

*****

The sound of the front door opening pulled me from my thoughts. My pulse quickened as I walked toward the hallway, and there he was. Sergio. His shoulders were slumped, his face tired but alive. He looked at me, and before I could say anything, he crossed the room and pulled me into his arms.

I hadn’t realized how much I needed the weight of him holding me. The warmth of someone who had seen every ugly part of me and stayed anyway.

My hands gripped the back of his shirt tightly as I buried my face into his chest. The tears came fast, hot, and without warning. It wasn’t the kind of crying that came with sobs or gasps for air. It was quieter than that. Just a steady stream of emotion I couldn’t hold back anymore.

He held me tighter, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “I’d do this and more for you.”

I pulled back, looking up at him through blurry eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you, Sergio.”

His hand brushed against my cheek, wiping away a tear. “You don’t have to.”

But I did. He had been my lifeline through all of this, even when I hadn’t realized it.

We moved to the couch, and I tucked my legs under me as he sat close, his body angled toward mine. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words seemed stuck.

“Just say it,” I urged gently, my voice still shaky. “Whatever it is.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “I owe you an apology, Mirella. A real one. For everything.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“I do,” he interrupted, his eyes locking with mine. “I should have told you who I was the moment I saw you again. There’s no excuse for that. I thought the mask would protect you, but all it did was build a wall between us.”

He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I thought keeping my distance would make things easier, and that, maybe, it would keep you safe. But it was a lie I told myself because I was afraid. I didn’t know if you’d forgive me for being part of his world.”

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and my chest ached.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his. “I don’t blame you for the mask, Sergio. I really don’t. It’s what kept Don Carlos blind to what you were doing. And in the end, it was exactly what we needed to take him down.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “But none of this has been black and white, has it? We’ve both made choices we thought were for the best, even when they weren’t.”

His brows furrowed. “What are you saying?”

I let out a slow breath, my hand pulling back to rest in my lap. “I’m saying I’m no saint either. I lied about not being Alex’s mother. I hid who I was as The Raven. I told myself it was to protect him, but if I’m being honest, part of it was because I didn’t completely trust you.”

His expression faltered, and I rushed to continue.

“It wasn’t because of anything you did, Sergio. You never gave me a reason to doubt you. It was me and my fear. My habit of keeping people at arm’s length because it was safer that way.”

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