Page 62 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I woke up to the warmth of sunlight streaming through the curtains. We had slept through the night on this couch.

For a moment, everything felt peaceful. My head rested against the arm of the couch, and I could hear the faint sound of Sergio’s steady breathing beside me. His arm was wrapped protectively around my waist, his warmth seeping into my skin. It was the first time in forever that I had woken up feeling safe.

Carefully, I slipped out of his hold, trying not to disturb him. I reached for my dress on the floor, pulling it on as quietly as I could. The sight of Sergio—his hair mussed, face relaxed—made me pause. How could a man like him, so guarded, look so at ease? It tugged at something in me, something I didn’t want to examine too closely.

I stepped closer to wake him, my hand hovering over his shoulder. As I leaned in, my eyes caught something on his arm. A tattoo, bold and unmistakable, peeked out from his arm. My breath hitched. It was the same tattoo—the intricate design, the nameJacqueline. My stomach plummeted as the pieces began to fall into place, each sharper than the last.

Jacqueline. Sergio’s mother.

I had seen this tattoo before. I knew it very well.

My heart raced, the blood roaring in my ears. I stumbled back, bumping into the edge of the coffee table with a thud. Thenoise startled Sergio awake. He blinked groggily, a lazy smile spreading across his face when he saw me.

“Mirella?” His voice was low, rough with sleep, but I barely registered it. My eyes were glued to his arm, and my chest tightened.

I pointed at the tattoo, my hand shaking. “Your... your tattoo.” The words tumbled out of me, barely coherent. “You’re... you…”

His smile vanished. His eyes followed my gaze to his arm, and in that split second, I saw it—the flicker of realization, the panic that flashed across his face.

“Let me explain—” He swung his legs off the couch, scrambling to sit up, but I took a step back, shaking my head.

“No.” My voice cracked, but I couldn’t stop the flood of words. “You—Sergio, you’rehim. You’re the stranger. The mask, the voice, it was you all along!”

He stood, reaching for me, but I moved further away. My heart pounded, my thoughts spiraling out of control.

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time! Talking about secrets, about trust, when you’ve been keeping the biggest one of all!” I was rambling, pacing the room as if that could somehow help me process what was happening. “You saved me. You disappeared, you—” My voice broke, anger and confusion tangling together. “You let me believe you were dead!”

“It wasn’t like that,” he started, his hands raised in a calming gesture. He was still shirtless, his tattoo glaring at me like an accusation. “Mirella, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” I let out a bitter laugh, throwing my hands in the air. “You lied to me, Sergio. Do you have any idea what you put me through? You—” My voice rose, and I jabbed a finger in his direction. “You wore a mask. You slept with me, then died like some tragic hero. And now you’re here, acting like you’re just... just Sergio!”

“I am Sergio,” he said firmly, taking a cautious step toward me. “The stranger, the mask—yes, it was me. But I didn’t lie to hurt you.”

“Oh, well, that makes it all better,” I snapped, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You didn’t mean to hurt me. So it’s fine that you shattered my life and made me question everything I thought I knew! I fucking mourned you,” I was pacing again, my hands gesturing wildly as I tried to release the storm building inside me.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Mirella, listen to me. It wasn’t just some game. I—”

“Don’t you dare try to justify this!” I cut him off, spinning to face him. “You came here yesterday, all righteous, grilling me about secrets and honesty. And the whole time, you were sitting on this!” I gestured toward his arm, my voice shaking.

His jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply. “I had reasons for what I did.”

“Reasons?” I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “What reasons could possibly justify this, Sergio? You manipulated me, you—” My voice cracked again, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “You made me feel like I could trust you. Like you were the one person I could rely on. And now…” I trailed off, my throat tightening.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice pleading. He stepped closer, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t,” I warned, my voice trembling. “Don’t come any closer.”

He froze, his hands dropping to his sides. “Mirella, please. Let me explain.”

“I don’t want your explanations,” I shot back. “I want the truth. The whole truth, Sergio. No more half-truths, no more secrets. Who are you? What else are you hiding?”

“Mirella, I’ve always been real with you. The stranger, Sergio—both are me. I never lied about how I felt or about what you mean to me.”

“Don’t.” My voice broke, tears stinging my eyes. “Don’t say that. You don’t get to play thefeelings cardhere.”

“I’m not playing anything,” he said, his tone sharp now. “You think this was easy for me? Watching you suffer, knowing I couldn’t tell you the truth without putting you in more danger?”

“Danger?” I echoed, my voice rising. “You’re the danger, Sergio! You lied. You faked a whole ass death. For what? For fucking what end—”

---