Page 23 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I almost cackled at the thought of bringing shame to a family I would rather cut tiles with—a family name I would put into extinction if I had a chance. It was almost laughable. But I held back.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, letting him rant. He loved his theatrics. His voice carried the weight of years of threats, but I didn’t flinch. I’d heard it all before.

“Are you done?” I asked, my tone sharper than a blade.

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t test me, boy.”

Boy. That word grated on my nerves. I straightened, stepping closer. “You don’t have to remind me of what’s at stake. I know better than anyone.”

“You act like you’re untouchable,” he squinted his gaze, his voice rising. “One slip, and—”

“One slip, and I’ll fix it,” I cut him off. “I’ve been cleaning up messes for this family long before you noticed.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew better. I turned to leave before he could spit out another lecture. Behind me, I heard him mutter something about my attitude, but I let it slide—for now.

The drive was long, but the company was interesting. Mirella sat in the passenger seat. Her gaze was fixed on the road ahead. But every so often, she’d glance at me. I caught her once, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the scenery.

I couldn’t help but smile. She was terrible at hiding things.

Ryan sat in the back, humming along to some old rock song playing on the radio. “This is a nice change of pace,” he said. “Usually, these trips are just me and you, Sergio. Miserable silence and your bad music.”

“Hey, my music’s great,” I retorted with a hint of playfulness in my tone, turning up the volume just to annoy him.

Mirella laughed softly, and it made the whole car feel lighter. “Bad music is an understatement,” she teased and let out a chuckle.

I feigned offense. “You too? I thought you had better taste, Mirella.”

She smirked. “I do. That’s why I know this is terrible.”

Ryan leaned forward, grinning. “Finally, someone who gets it. Mirella, you might be my favorite person now.”

“Glad to know I’ve got someone on my side,” she teased, her voice sounding almost taunting, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

I shook my head, pretending to be hurt. “Traitors. Both of you.”

By the time we reached the hotel, the sun was already setting. We normally make use of the road during trips like this, trying not to raise suspicion. But it was also exhausting and took longer, and now, the night was already painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. We checked in quickly, each taking a room. But instead of retreating to rest, we ended up in Ryan’s room, sharing stories over the cheap snacks he always managed to pack.

Ryan was mid-sentence about a mission we’d been on years ago when he paused, pointing at Mirella. “Did Sergio ever tell you how he saved my life?”

Mirella tilted her head, curious. “No, he didn’t.”

I groaned, already regretting being here. “Ryan, don’t—”

“Oh, I’m telling her,” Ryan declared, ignoring me. “So, there we were, pinned down by enemy fire—”

“It wasn’t that dramatic,” I interrupted.

“Let me have this,” Ryan snarled in a playful tone, waving me off. “Anyway, we were pinned down. I was out of ammo, and this idiot here runs straight into the open, bullets flying everywhere, just to pull me out of there.”

Mirella’s eyes widened, a mix of admiration and disbelief. “You did that?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable under her gaze. “He would’ve done the same for me.”

Ryan snorted. “I’m not as crazy as you. But yeah, he’s the reason I’m here today.”

Mirella smiled softly, her gaze lingering on me. “That’s… impressive.”

“It was reckless,” I said, trying to downplay it. “Don’t let him make it sound like I’m some kind of hero.”

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