Page 76 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

I didn’t know how to feel about it yet. Grateful wasn’t enough. Overwhelmed was closer, but even that didn’t quite cover it.

“Mama?”

Alex’s voice broke through my thoughts. He was standing now, staring at me with those big, curious eyes. I stepped into the room, my hand instinctively brushing over his hair.

“Are you okay, Mama?”

“I am,” I said, though the weight of everything still sat heavily on my shoulders. “And so are you.”

He grinned, the gap in his teeth showing as he did. “Dahlia says I can make a better swan than her.”

“You probably can,” I teased, earning a mock-offended gasp from Dahlia.

“Traitor,” she muttered, but her smile gave her away.

There was still so much to do. But for now, I wanted Alex to have this moment, this lightness.

Later, when he was curled up, I took him to meet his grandfather.

We’d set up the makeshift hospital in the living room. It had been his wish—no hospitals, no sterile white rooms. Just home.The doctors came and went, doing what they could. Nurses stayed, keeping him comfortable, but it was his home now.

My father looked older than I remembered, not just in years but in wear. Five years of captivity had stolen so much from him, but there was life in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

When I led Alex into the room, my father’s expression softened in a way I’d never seen before.

“Is this him?” His voice was quiet, almost reverent.

“This is Alex,” I said, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

Alex hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, his usual bravado faltering under the weight of the moment. “Are you my grandpa?”

“I am,” my father said, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to meet you.”

Alex tilted his head, studying him the way only a child could. Then he grinned. “You’re not as scary as Mama says you are.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Alex shot back, earning a laugh from my father.

For the first time in years, I saw him smile. A real, genuine smile. He pulled Alex closer, his hand trembling as he ruffled his hair.

“You’ve got her fire,” he said softly. “That’s good. You’ll need it.”

Alex leaned into him without hesitation, and I felt something inside me loosen.

Later, when Alex had gone back to his room, my father and I sat in the quiet of the makeshift hospital. The machines beeped softly around us, but it felt almost peaceful.

“I thought I was going to die in that warehouse,” he said, his voice low. “For years, I thought that was how it would end—alone and forgotten.”

“You’re not alone,” I said, my voice firm.

He nodded slowly, his eyes misty. “I’m grateful, Mirella. For you. For Alex. For this chance I thought that I’d never get.”

We sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I need to apologize to you.”

“You don’t—”

“I do,” he interrupted, his tone resolute. “For forcing you into that marriage with Don Carlos. I thought I was securing our future, but all I did was chain you to a monster.”

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