Page 78 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

The silence felt like we were both sorting through the pieces of ourselves we hadn’t dared to confront before now.

He reached for my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “No more masks,” he said firmly. “Not for you. Not for me. No more hiding, Mirella. No more pretending we’re anything but what we are.”

“And what are we?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His thumb brushed against the back of my hand. “We’re two people who’ve been through hell and back, and we’re still standing. Together. If that’s not worth fighting for, I don’t know what is.”

I felt my lips tremble as I nodded. “No more masks,” I repeated. “From now on, we’re transparent in everything, even when it’s hard.”

“Especially when it’s hard,” he agreed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

My eyes searched his, looking for the catch, the hesitation, but there wasn’t any. He was all in, and for the first time in a long time, so was I.

“I love you, Mirella,” he said, the words coming out steady and sure.

It felt like everything in me stilled for a moment, the weight of his words settling over me. I reached up, my hand cupping his face.

“I love you too, Sergio.”

I let those words settle in me, warm and grounding. But there was something else, something I couldn’t put off any longer. “Sergio,” I started, my voice catching slightly, “are you ready to meet him? Alex, I mean.”

His head tilted, his eyes softening in a way that made my chest ache. “Ready?” he repeated, his voice quiet. “I’ve been waiting for this moment since the day I found out. Nothing would make me happier.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. His answer hit me with so much tenderness that I could only nod, swallowing back the lump in my throat.

I rose from the couch, motioning for him to follow. My heart pounded as we walked down the hallway, each step feeling heavier with emotion. At Alex’s door, I paused, my hand hovering over the handle.

“Sergio,” I whispered, looking back at him. “He’s a little shy at first, but once he warms up, he’s got the biggest heart. He’s smart, too. Smarter than me most days.”

Sergio smiled, his expression filled with something I couldn’t quite name. “Sounds like he gets that from his mother.”

I shook my head, my lips curving upward despite the nervousness bubbling in my chest. Pushing the door open slowly, I peeked inside. Alex was awake now, sitting cross-legged on the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, stepping in. “There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

Alex blinked up at me, then at Sergio, who had stopped just inside the doorway. He looked at me, his little face excited. “Uncle!”

I sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a hand through his messy hair. “Sweetheart, he is not your uncle,” I said softly, my voice steady but full of meaning. “He’s… well, he’s your father.”

Alex’s eyes widened, his small hands clutching the blanket tightly. “My dad?” His voice was barely above a whisper, full of wonder and caution all at once.

Sergio knelt on the floor, bringing himself to Alex’s eye level. “Yeah, buddy,” he said gently. “I’m your dad. And I’ve been waiting a long time to tell you.”

Alex stared at him, his eyes flicking between me and Sergio. “You’re really my dad?”

Sergio nodded. “I am. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to get to know you. Maybe we could do some fun stuff together. Like… wecould play dinosaurs like the other day, and I heard you’re really good at drawing.”

Alex’s grip on the blanket loosened slightly. “I am,” he said, a small hint of pride creeping into his voice. “I can draw anything, even the dinosaurs.”

Sergio grinned, his eyes lighting up. “That’s awesome. You’ll have to show me sometime. Maybe we can draw one together.”

Alex’s lips twitched, almost like he was trying not to smile, but he couldn’t help himself. “Okay,” he said shyly.

The warmth in Sergio’s expression was enough to melt any remaining fear I had. He reached out carefully as if he didn’t want to scare Alex. “Can I shake your hand?” he asked.

Alex hesitated, then slowly extended his tiny hand. When their hands met, I felt the tears welling up again.

“You’ve got a strong grip,” Sergio said, his tone playful but full of admiration. “I think you might be stronger than me.”

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