Page 16 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
I pulled into a gas station parking lot, shifting into park. My hands were still shaking. My heart was still racing.
I dug my phone out of my purse, my finger hovering over the screen.
There were missed calls. Messages.
Luca:Where the hell are you?
Luca:Tell me this is a joke.
Luca:Maria, get back here NOW.
Then, Lorenzo.
Maria.
Just my name, no anger or demands. That made it worse.
I swallowed hard and opened a new message.
I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Please forgive me.
I hesitated, and then I added,
Tell your mother I’m sorry, too.
I hit send. Then, for good measure, I turned off my phone. I couldn’t risk them tracking me. I couldn’t risk hearing their voices.
Not yet.
I leaned back in the seat, staring at the ceiling. This was the right thing to do.
I knew that.
Lorenzo deserved better than a lie. He deserved better than a wife who was carrying another man’s child.
And my baby…I pressed a hand to my stomach, inhaling shakily. My baby deserved a mother who wasn’t trapped in a marriage built on secrets and lies.
I had to put us first, even if it meant breaking everything or everyone apart.
CHAPTER FOUR
MARIA
Five years. Five long years.
Some days, it felt like a lifetime. Other days, like I had only blinked and suddenly found myself here—far away from everything I once knew, the life I had abandoned, and the altar I had fled.
Some sacrifices are necessary. I told myself that every single day. I whispered it into the dark when sleep wouldn’t come or when my son’s small, steady breaths filled the silence, grounding me in the choice I had made. It was all worth it in the end.
I built a life. It wasn’t an easy one, but it was one I could be proud of. It was a life that belonged to me and my son, a life free from the chains of my past. I moved from city to city, throwing myself into work and dedicating everything to helping women and children who had no one else to fight for them. And my son, Matteo—God, Matteo—he was my light, my purpose.
But even light casts shadows.
There were nights, like tonight, when everything pressed too hard against my chest. Nights when I sat alone with a glass of wine that I barely sipped, staring out the window, wondering what could have been. On these nights, when I allowed myself a moment of weakness, a tear or two would slip down my cheeks before I wiped them away and reminded myself that regrets had no place here. There were nights I would think of Luca, nights I couldn’t stop thinking of Lorenzo, and nights I would dream of Shade.
On this one night, my phone chimed, startling me from my never-ending thoughts.
I blinked at the screen. An email from Luca.
