Page 72 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I turned to Ryan. “Call your contact. Have him dig deeper. I want eyes on every one of Don Carlos’s men by the end of the hour.”

Ryan nodded, already dialing. I grabbed my phone off the desk, my thoughts spinning as I scrolled through my contacts. Mirella wasn’t at home. She must be at the engagement, and she wasn’t answering her phone earlier. That pit in my stomach grew deeper.

“Where is she?” I muttered to myself, my thumb hovering over a number I hadn’t called in weeks.

Ryan glanced up. “You think she’s at the engagement?”

“If she’s not there, she’s somewhere worse,” I said flatly. “And I need to know, now.”

I hit call. The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered. It was one of my allies—someone who’d been forced to play nice with Don Carlos but never truly bent to him.

“Is she there?” I didn’t bother with pleasantries.

The ally paused just long enough to irritate me. “Who?”

“You know who.”

“No,” he replied carefully. “Haven’t seen her in a minute. Why?”

That answer didn’t ease me. In fact, it confirmed what I already feared. Mirella wouldn’t miss this event unless something—or someone—stopped her.

I leaned against the desk, lowering my voice. “Listen to me. Are you and your men ready?”

He didn’t respond immediately, and I could almost hear him weighing my words. There were rules in this game, and alliances were fragile. Asking that question meant I was stirring the pot.

“Why do you ask?”

I gave a humorless laugh. “Because I’m tired of pretending we’re not all suffocating under Don Carlos’s boot. And I know you are too.”

Silence stretched. I could feel the weight of it, the years of bitterness and quiet resentment. Men like Don Carlos ruled through fear, but fear only worked until people had nothing left to lose.

“Tell me you’re ready,” I pressed, my voice firm now.

The ally exhaled, slow and heavy. “We’ve always been ready to get out of the clutches of that tyrant.”

I gripped the phone tighter, my pulse finally starting to calm. Good. Finally.

“We move when I say,” I said, steel in my tone. “Stay sharp, and don’t trust anyone outside your men. I’ll call you when it’s time.”

The line clicked dead, and I lowered the phone, my mind already racing with the next steps.

Ryan watched me carefully. “They’re in?”

“They’re in.” I straightened, exhaling slowly as I pushed down the rage boiling beneath my calm surface. “Mirella’s in danger, Ryan. Don Carlos is tightening the noose, and I need to find her before he finishes the job.”

Ryan rubbed a hand over his face. “Sergio, you’re walking into a trap. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” I snapped and then softened. “But what choice do I have? Mirella’s father is barely holding on, and now Don Carlos might have her, too. If I sit here doing nothing, I may as well hand them over myself.”

Ryan sighed but didn’t argue further. He knew me too well by now.

I moved toward the door, grabbing my jacket on the way. “Call the men. I want every resource we have focused on finding Mirella. No excuses.”

Ryan nodded, already pulling out his phone. “What are you going to do?”

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to remind Don Carlos that no one gets to touch what’s mine.”

And if I had to burn his entire empire to the ground to do it, so be it.

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