Page 47 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

The door to my hotel room felt more solemn than usual. I leaned against it, trying to steady my breath. I had barely made it to my room and changed hurriedly before I heard footsteps.

I knew who was on the other side. I knew because I felt him before I even opened the door. Sergio.

Part of me didn’t want to answer. The other part? It ached. It ached for the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel like the Mirella I’d buried so long ago.

The moment I opened the door, it seemed to spark with colors in my heart, igniting the part of me that I had tried to hide. I could feel it on my skin. Sergio stood there, his eyes, dark and full of something between longing and restraint, met mine. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

His shirt was slightly untucked, and his hair was disheveled in that effortlessly charming way. His gaze pinned me, making my breath catch.

I was painfully aware of my slightly rumpled shirt. The top button was undone, revealing just a hint of skin. His eyes lingered there for a moment before flicking back to mine. It was subtle, but I saw it. Felt it.

“Mirella,” he finally spoke in a hoarse tone, my name soft and low on his lips. My pulse quickened.

“Hi,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Damn it.” The words escaped him like he’d lost some internal battle, and before I could process it, his hand was on my waist, pushing me inside.

The door shut behind us, and in the next moment, his lips were on mine. It was soft at first, almost uncertain, but when I didn’t pull away, his tongue was encircling mine, claiming me in the most breathtaking way possible. It was electrifying, exhilarating, and thrilling as his mouth familiarized with every detail of mine.

Every nerve in my body seemed to wake up under his touch.

His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between us. I let out a small gasp as his lips moved against mine, his breath warm and intoxicating.

The tension that had been simmering between us boiled over.

My hands slid up his chest, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles. He groaned a low sound that made my knees weak, and I clung to him, needing his strength to hold me up.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his hands roaming over the small of my back, grazing the bare skin where my top had ridden up. It sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped me.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Mirella?” he murmured against my lips, his voice husky and full of need.

“Sergio,” I whispered, barely able to think past the feeling of his hands on my hips and his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands cupped my breasts, and I buckled under his touch.

I pressed against him, feeling his heartbeat pounding in rhythm with mine. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a dam breaking. We moved together as if we were the only two people in the world. The rest of it didn’t matter.

But then, my phone buzzed. A sharp, jarring noise that snapped me back to reality. It was a phone call that I didn’t want to check because I wanted to stay in the moment.

Sergio gazed at me, tilting his head to kiss me when my phone buzzed again.

Shit!

We froze, breathless and tangled, as the sound broke through the haze. It was my phone again, and immediately I knew I had to check this time. I reached for it reluctantly, my hands trembling as I checked my phone. There was a missed call from Dahlia followed by a message.

Alex is running a fever, taking him to the hospital,the message read. It was sent multiple times from Dahlia. I gripped the phone tightly, panic rushing through me like cold water.

“Mirella?” Sergio’s voice pulled me back, his concern evident.

I forced a shaky smile, “It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Just an emergency I need to handle.”

He frowned, stepping closer. “At this hour? What’s going on?”

“It’s personal,” I responded. My voice was sharper than I intended. But I was trying to hide the storm brewing inside me. His expression softened, but the concern in his eyes remained.

“Let me help,” he offered, reaching out as if to steady me.

I shook my head and moved away from his reach. “No. I’ve got it under control.”

He sighed, frustration flickering across his face.

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