Page 75 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

Realization dawned on his face.

“You… you’ve been recruiting them?” His voice was laced with disbelief, almost a laugh.

I crouched in front of him, pulling something from under my coat. A mask. The mask I’d worn during that wedding. I dropped it on the floor in front of him, letting it land at his feet.

His eyes widened, his breathing uneven. “It can’t be…”

“Oh, it can,” I said, my voice low. “It was me that day. I was the one who shot you. And now I’ve done it again. Only this time, I’m not running. This time, I’m finishing what I started.”

Don Carlos tried to push himself up, but his strength was failing. “You think you’re better than me, Sergio?” His voice cracked with anger. “You’re just like me.”

“No,” I said, standing over him. “I’m nothing like you. And I’m going to make sure you rot for the rest of your miserable life.”

I pulled out my phone and dialed. The call was quick, and the message was brief. “You can pick him up now. Westchester. Send everyone.”

Don Carlos’s eyes widened in shock as the realization hit him.

“You called the police?”

“Enjoy prison, Father.”

The sound of sirens grew louder in the distance, cutting through the heavy silence.

I turned to Mirella and her father, who were still chained. Mirella’s face was unreadable, and her emotions were a storm Icouldn’t quite place. I moved quickly, releasing them both from their bonds.

The moment Mirella was free, she grabbed my arm, her voice trembling. “Alex. Dahlia. Where are they?”

I gave her a small smile. “They’re safe. Ryan has them in the other room.”

Relief washed over her face, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled.

Mr. Gallo, still weak but standing, gripped my arm. “Thank you,” he said, his voice heavy with gratitude.

I nodded, but my mind was already elsewhere. This wasn’t over yet. There was still one last thing I needed to do.

The police arrived moments later, swarming the warehouse and taking Don Carlos into custody. He glared at me as they dragged him away, but his threats fell on deaf ears.

I watched him go, and everything felt light. Years of pain, years of abuse, years of guilt, and years of anguish all came flushing down.

I felt peace, a peace that came with justice. I would make sure he never saw the outside of a cell again. For Mirella. For Alex. For Jacqueline. For all of us.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

MIRELLA

The house was quieter than it had been in weeks, but there was a hum of life that filled the air. It wasn’t the kind of stillness I’d grown used to—the suffocating silence of being alone with my thoughts. This was different. This was the kind of quiet that came after storms. Heavy, but alive.

I leaned against the doorframe of Alex’s room, watching as Dahlia sat with him, showing him how to fold paper into what I assumed were supposed to be animals. Alex’s laugh was loud and unrestrained, a sound I don’t think I’d ever quite heard before.

“You’re terrible at this,” Alex teased, holding up a crumpled piece of paper.

Dahlia gave him a dramatic scowl. “That’s supposed to be a swan! Use your imagination, kid!”

I smiled. Dahlia had kept Alex safe when Don Carlos’s men came, never leaving his side. She’d done more than I could have asked for, more than I could have done myself.

I was used to doing things on my own and fighting my battles alone. It was a lesson life had forced on me, time and time again. Yet here I was, surrounded by people who had risked everything for me and Alex. Dahlia, bruised but unyielding, sitting cross-legged on the floor as though nothing had happened. Ryan was still pacing downstairs, the tension in his shoulders barelyeasing even now. Enzo walked around like his injuries were nothing, even though I knew the bullet had grazed him.

They’d all gone out of their way to make sure we were safe. And Sergio—Sergio had done what I’d thought impossible. He had brought down Don Carlos.

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