Page 20

MIRELLA

My father’s old studio felt so eccentric to me as I stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind me. Dust hung in the air, catching the faint rays of light streaming through the small, cracked window. The scent of oil paint and varnish still lingered, bringing back flashes of childhood memories—his steady hands, the quiet hum of jazz music, and the sound of his brush gliding across the canvas.

Now, the room felt foreign, almost haunted.

My shoes clicked against the worn wooden floor as I walked deeper into the studio, scanning every corner for a sign of the safe. It had been years since I’d last accessed it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d remember how to get to it. But if it held the secrets Don Carlos was after, I had to find it. Everyone had thought my dad kept the safe hidden in some warehouse outside town, but my father was the kind of man who loved being inconspicuous.

I paused in front of an old bookshelf, my fingers trailing over the spines of art books and journals. Somewhere behind this shelf was the safe. My father always said the best place to hide something valuable was in plain sight.

“Right, Dad, but you could’ve made this easier,” I muttered, shoving the bookshelf aside. It groaned in protest, the weight testing every ounce of strength I had.

Finally, it budged, revealing a small steel safe embedded in the wall. My heart raced as I knelt in front of it, brushing away the layer of dust that had settled over the keypad.

“Alright, Mirella. Think,” I whispered to myself.

The password. What was it again?

I closed my eyes, trying to pull the memory from the recesses of my mind. He’d told me it was something simple, something I’d never forget. And then it hit me.

The date of my mother’s death.

My fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment before I entered the numbers. The safe beeped, and for a split second, I thought I’d gotten it wrong. But then, there was a soft click, and the door swung open.

Inside, everything was just as I remembered. A small stack of files, a few USB drives, and a leather-bound journal lay neatly arranged. My father’s meticulousness was still intact, even after all these years.

I pulled out the journal first, flipping through its pages. Names, dates, transactions—it was all there. Every deal he’d ever made, every asset he’d ever acquired. But it wasn’t just about the money. This was a roadmap to power.

Then I saw it. A separate note slipped between the pages, detailing access codes to something far more dangerous. Keys to weapons, encrypted files on criminal networks, and AI prototypes capable of things I didn’t want to imagine.

No wonder Don Carlos wanted this.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Enzo.

He picked up after the first ring. “Mirella. What’s wrong?”

I let out a shaky breath. “I found the safe. Don Carlos is keeping my father alive because he wants what’s inside it.”

There was a pause on the other end. “What’s in it?”

“Everything. Names, assets, and—” I hesitated, glancing down at the journal again. “Access to things that could make him unstoppable. Nuclear weapons. Advanced AI. Bombs. ”

Enzo let out a low whistle. “That’s why he’s been so desperate. He’s not just after control. He’s after domination.”

“Exactly,” I said. “This narrows it down, doesn’t it? If we know what he wants, we can trace his moves. He’s probably already made contact with someone who can help him decrypt these files or access the weapons.”

Enzo’s tone shifted, sharp and focused. “That’s good. It gives me a lead. I’ll start digging into his recent transactions and see if he’s reached out to anyone with expertise in this kind of tech. Keep the contents safe, Mirella. If he gets even a whiff that you’ve accessed the safe—”

“I know,” I cut in. “He’ll kill my father. Or worse.”

The line went quiet for a moment before Enzo spoke again. “Mirella, are you okay?”

I laughed, though it came out more bitter than I intended. “I’m great, Enzo. My life’s a circus, and I’m the clown juggling secrets, lies, and the occasional death threat. What could possibly be wrong?”

His chuckle was dry but warm. “You’re tougher than you think. Just hang in there. I’ll call you when I have something.”

I ended the call and sat back on my heels, staring at the contents of the safe. The weight of it all pressed down on me, but I couldn’t let it show. Not to Enzo. Not to Sergio. Not to anyone.

I slipped the files and USB drives into my bag, leaving the journal behind. The less I carried, the less chance of someone catching on.

I stood, my gaze drifted to an old painting leaning against the wall. It was one of my father’s unfinished works, a portrait of a young girl with piercing eyes. My eyes.

He always said he painted it for me—to remind me that I was stronger than I believed.

“Well, Dad,” I muttered, “you’d better be right. Because this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

I pushed the bookshelf back into place, wiping my hands on my jeans. There was no turning back now.

Don Carlos might think he’s holding all the cards, but he’s underestimated me.

And that would be his biggest mistake .

I was still staring at the painting he’d left unfinished years ago. The eyes on the canvas seemed to follow me as if my younger self were judging my every move. I sighed and shook my head. There wasn’t time for sentimentality, not when Don Carlos was breathing down my neck and my father’s life was hanging by a thread.

The sound of giggling pulled me out of my thoughts. It wasn’t just any giggle. It was Alex’s, the kind of laugh he only gave when he was truly happy. It was faint, but I recognized his giggle even in my sleep. It was rare, like sunshine after a storm, and it caught me off guard. He was discharged last night, and I went out before he woke up today.

I froze for a moment, listening. It came from the living room, accompanied by the soft rumble of another voice. My heart raced as I made my way down the hallway.

What I saw stopped me dead in my tracks.

There was Sergio, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Alex. They were surrounded by action figures, cars, and a plastic dinosaur that had seen better days. Sergio was making ridiculous roaring sounds while Alex clutched his belly.

The sight was perfect.

For a split second, I let myself imagine what it would be like if Sergio was Alex’s father—if we were just a normal family, free from lies and danger. If the three of us could sit on this floor, playing with toy dinosaurs and not worrying about the weight of the world crushing us. But that was a fantasy, and I didn’t have time for fantasies.

It was clear Alex was still weak because he didn’t run to me to give me the normal early morning hug, which would have followed with me giving him multiple kisses.

I cleared my throat, crossing my arms as I stepped into the room. “What are you doing here, Sergio?”

Sergio looked up, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “Come on, Mirella. It is a new day. Be cheerful, I just came to play with Alex.”

I glanced at Alex, I couldn’t help but smile at Alex’s excitement even though his face was pale and he was still barely talking, but I kept my focus on Sergio. “This isn’t a playground, Sergio. And you’re not a babysitter. So again, why are you here?”

He stood up, dusting off his jeans but not losing the smirk. “We have a mission.” He moved away from Alex and nudged me to a corner far from Alex’s hearing.

I raised an eyebrow. “A mission? Are we storming a castle or robbing a bank? Because you look way too relaxed for either.”

He chuckled and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “It’s important, Mirella. But I thought I’d spend some time with this kid before we get into it. He’s a cool little guy.”

My stomach twisted. He didn’t know Alex was mine, and I had to keep it that way. “Oh, how noble of you.”

Sergio’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flicked between me and Alex like he was trying to piece something together.

“You’re good with him,” I said, deflecting. “Better than I expected.”

He shrugged. “Kids like me. What can I say? I’m charming.”

Alex tugged on Sergio’s hand, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Are you staying for breakfast?”

Sergio crouched down, ruffling Alex’s hair. “I wish, buddy. But I have some grown-up stuff to take care of.”

Alex pouted, and for a moment, I felt guilty for dragging Sergio away. But the look Sergio gave me, half amusement, half curiosity—brought me back to reality. I wanted to get Sergio as far away as possible from Alex. I couldn’t risk Alex calling me mummy, which he should have done if not for how weak he was, and it had made him more quiet than usual.

“Alright,” I said, walking to the door and motioning for him to follow. “Let’s talk about this mission of yours. Alex, be good, okay? I’ll be back soon. Go find Dahlia upstairs.”

Alex waved as I led Sergio out into the hallway.

Once we were alone, Sergio leaned against the wall, his smirk returning. “You’re nervous.”

“About what?”

“About me spending time with Alex.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I’m nervous because you’re unpredictable, Sergio. And I don’t have time for surprises. Plus, I am not sure if Dahlia is cool with it,” my words were filled with lies, and I hated myself the more they escaped my mouth .

He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Relax, Mirella. I’m not here to uncover your secrets.” He teased. “Not yet, anyway.”

My pulse quickened, but I kept my expression neutral. “Let’s just get to the point. What’s this mission?”

He straightened, his playful demeanor fading. “Don Carlos wants to meet tonight. Something about securing that shipment and tying up loose ends.”

“And you need me because...?”

“Because you’re the only one I can talk to. I feel we should give that shipment a break for now. Raven would be expecting us. And because I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. But you’re driving. And don’t even think about making any dinosaur noises on the way.”

Sergio laughed, heading toward the door. “No promises.”

I followed him out. I couldn’t shake the image of him with Alex. It was too perfect and too easy. And for someone like me, perfect and easy were dangerous.