Page 53 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

Alex waved as I led Sergio out into the hallway.

Once we were alone, Sergio leaned against the wall, his smirk returning. “You’re nervous.”

“About what?”

“About me spending time with Alex.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I’m nervous because you’re unpredictable, Sergio. And I don’t have time for surprises. Plus, I am not sure if Dahlia is cool with it,” my words were filled with lies, and I hated myself the more they escaped my mouth.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Relax, Mirella. I’m not here to uncover your secrets.” He teased. “Not yet, anyway.”

My pulse quickened, but I kept my expression neutral. “Let’s just get to the point. What’s this mission?”

He straightened, his playful demeanor fading. “Don Carlos wants to meet tonight. Something about securing that shipment and tying up loose ends.”

“And you need me because...?”

“Because you’re the only one I can talk to. I feel we should give that shipment a break for now. Raven would be expecting us. And because I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. But you’re driving. And don’t even think about making any dinosaur noises on the way.”

Sergio laughed, heading toward the door. “No promises.”

I followed him out. I couldn’t shake the image of him with Alex. It was too perfect and too easy. And for someone like me, perfect and easy were dangerous.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SERGIO

The road stretched out in front of us, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon. Mirella sat beside me, quiet and focused, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I could feel the tension radiating off her like heat from a fire. It wasn’t like her to be this quiet, and it unnerved me more than I cared to admit.

I reached under my seat and pulled out a gun, holding it out to her. “Take this.”

She glanced at it and then at me, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not planning on getting into a shootout tonight.”

“No one plans on it. That’s why you need it. Just in case things go south.”

She hesitated but eventually took the weapon, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans. “You better not get us killed, Sergio.”

I smirked. “You’ve got to trust me some time.”

She didn’t respond, but her silence was louder than any words. Mirella didn’t trust easily, and I wasn’t about to pretend I’d earned it.

When we arrived at the drop-off point, the air felt heavier. It was too quiet, too still. My instincts were screaming at me, but I pushed the unease aside. A job was a job.

The buyer was already there, flanked by four men who looked more like tanks than humans. Mirella stood a little behind me, her face calm but her eyes scanning the area like a hawk.

“We’re here for the shipment,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

The buyer, a wiry man with a cigarette dangling from his lips, smiled. “Funny thing about shipments—they can get expensive.”

I stiffened. “We agreed on a price.”

“Prices change,” he said, flicking ash onto the ground.

I didn’t miss the subtle nod he gave to his men. They shifted, hands moving toward their weapons. Mirella’s hand brushed against mine, a small, almost imperceptible signal.

They were about to double-cross us.

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