Page 59 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

That gnawing suspicion twisted deeper in my gut. “And?”

Dahlia’s expression tightened. “Alex told him I was in the kitchen making lunch, and Sergio looked unsettled. Like he was piecing something together.”

My mind raced. “What else did Alex say?”

Dahlia hesitated. “He called me by my name. Not ‘Mama.’”

I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. Of course, Alex would do that. He had started calling me “Mama” ever since he would talk.

We were still talking when I heard the sound of tires crunching gravel outside. My chest tightened as I peered through the window. It was Sergio’s car.

Dahlia caught the look on my face and touched my arm. “I’ll take Alex upstairs.”

I nodded, steeling myself. When Sergio knocked, I opened the door and gestured for him to follow me to the study.

He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice calm but laced with something sharp. “About you. About everything.”

I crossed my arms, trying to appear indifferent. “Sergio, what’s this about?”

He stepped closer, his eyes locked onto mine. “You’ve always been good at keeping secrets, haven’t you?”

The question sliced through me. I forced myself to remain still, but my pulse was a drum in my ears. “What do you mean?”

He smiled—a cold, humorless curve of his lips. “Mirella. Or should I call you The Raven?”

The air seemed to leave the room. My breath hitched before I could stop it, and my fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. I tried to school my expression, to hold onto any semblance of composure, but I knew the flicker of shock in my eyes had already betrayed me.

Sergio’s eyes were locked onto mine, sharp and unrelenting, like he could see through every wall I’d ever built.

“Enough of the lies, Mirella.” His voice was low, but the weight of it landed like a thunderclap. “You’ve been running circles around me, but not anymore. I’ve spent weeks watching, piecing it all together, and now I see you for who you really are.”

I didn’t flinch, though every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. My voice was steady, but barely. “You’re being ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between us. “Don’t play dumb. The games, the masks, the double life—you don’t fool me.”

He clasped his hands together sharply, the sound echoing in the room like a warning shot. “You’re The Raven, Mirella. Don’t insult both of us by denying it.”

My chest tightened, but I kept my face calm. “You don’t know anything about me. You think you do, but you don’t.” I stepped back, trying to regain control, but he moved forward, matching me step for step. His presence was overwhelming, filling the room like a storm cloud.

“Don’t I?” His voice softened, turning dangerously smooth, but his eyes stayed hard. “I know you’re strong. I know you’re brilliant. And I know you’re a hell of a lot more dangerous than you want anyone to believe. You ain’t the naive girl you desperately want people to believe you are.”

His hand shot out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but the intensity in his gaze burned. “And I know this,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “this is the real you.”

I swatted his hand away, more to break the spell he was casting than anything else. My breathing was uneven, and my thoughts were racing.

I clenched my fists, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “You think you know it all, don’t you? You think you’ve figured everything out.”

“I don’t think so. Iknow.” His confidence was maddening, and the way he looked at me—like I was both a puzzle he’d solved and a secret he hadn’t uncovered yet—made me want to scream.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I challenged, taking a step closer, my voice rising. “If you’re so sure, say it. Say whatever you came here to say.”

He leaned in with his face inches from mine. “You’re The Raven, Mirella—the mysterious woman, the enigma, the shadow that’s been haunting the underworld for years.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but it carried the weight of a shout. “Admit it.”

He wasn’t guessing—heknew. The denial was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. My silence was answer enough.

His eyes flickered in triumph. “I knew it,” he murmured, almost to himself.

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