Page 34 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

MIRELLA

“Nice job out there,”the text message from Enzo lit up my screen.“You did great. Who knew you were such a great actress?”

Another text came in, and I placed my phone into my bag. I didn’t want to keep reading.

Was it all an act? Everything?

I closed the door to my house, leaning against it as I exhaled deeply. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since I left Sergio. The kiss. It replayed in my mind like an old movie I couldn’t shut off: his lips on mine, his hand grazing my cheek, the way he looked at me as if I were the only thing that mattered in the world. I pressed my fingers to my lips, feeling the ghost of his touch.

What am I doing?

Allowing myself to feel something for Sergio wasn’t part of the plan. If anything, it was dangerous. Yet here I was, thinking about him, wondering if he was okay and if his wound still hurt. Was he going to keep having nightmares? Was he thinking about me, too?

I walked to the kitchen, trying to distract myself. The sound of my footsteps echoed in the quiet apartment. Alex was in his room, probably playing with his cars or drawing. He was my everything, my reason for doing all of this. But as much as Iloved my son, I couldn’t shake the loneliness that crept into my life like an unwanted guest.

I opened the fridge, pulling out vegetables to chop for dinner. I had fallen asleep in Sergio’s room, and when I left, I realized that it was barely six. I had thought it was late because of the storm he had awoken in me, and my mind refused to stay quiet. Sergio wasn’t supposed to matter. He was just… Sergio… Don Carlos’ son. A man trapped in a world of power and blood. Someone who could never really belong to me, not in the way I wanted.

And yet, I couldn’t deny what I felt when he pulled me close or when his voice softened as he spoke my name.

I shook my head, gripping the cutting board harder than necessary. “Stop it,” I muttered under my breath. This wasn’t the time to lose focus. I had a plan, and I couldn’t let emotions ruin everything. My father was still missing. The stranger who gave me Alex was gone because of Don Carlos, and I was left with more questions than answers. If I got too close to Sergio, I could lose everything I’d worked for.

But what if he’s different? What if—

“Mama!” Alex’s voice broke through my thoughts, high-pitched and filled with energy. He ran into the kitchen, his little feet padding against the tile floor.

I forced a smile, turning to face him. “What is it, my love?”

He held up a drawing, a colorful mess of shapes and lines. “I made this for you!”

I crouched down to his level, taking the paper from his hands. “Wow, Alex, this is amazing. Is that me?”

He nodded, pointing to a stick figure with bright yellow hair. “That’s you. And that’s me.” He pointed to a smaller figure holding hands with the first.

“And what’s this?” I asked, gesturing to a big red circle above us.

“That’s the sun. We’re at the park.”

I ruffled his hair, laughing softly. “It’s perfect. I’ll hang it on the fridge after dinner.”

He grinned, his gap-toothed smile lighting up the room. Alex had a way of making everything feel a little brighter, even when my thoughts were dark.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

He nodded vigorously. “Can we have spaghetti?”

“Spaghetti it is,” I said, pulling out a box of pasta.

As I cooked, Alex sat on the floor beside me, playing with his toy cars. He made engine noises, narrating an elaborate race between his red car and his blue one. I couldn’t help but watch him, marveling at how much joy he brought into my life.

“Who’s winning?” I asked, stirring the sauce on the stove.

“The red one! He’s super fast. But the blue one is sneaky. He might win in the end.”

“Sounds intense,” I teased, glancing over my shoulder at him.

“It is! But don’t worry, Mama. I’ll tell you who wins.”

We ate dinner together at the small table by the window. Alex talked non-stop about his day, his time with Dahlia, and hisgrand plans to become a superhero when he grew up. He was a bit chatty today, in contrast to his more reserved self. I listened, laughing at his antics, feeling a sense of peace.

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