Page 28

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 barely easing 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.

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.”

I didn’t know what to say. The words caught in my throat.

“I thought I was doing what was best,” he continued. “But I see now how wrong I was. I see the weight you’ve carried because of my choices.”

I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I forgave you a long time ago, Papi. All I wanted was to get you back. That’s all that ever mattered to me.”

He looked at me, his expression softening. “And now?”

“Now, I’m just glad you’re here,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His grip on my hand tightened. “I’ll make it up to you, Mirella. I swear it.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips. “But if you really want to, you can start by letting Alex teach you how to fold a swan. Apparently, he’s an expert.”

He laughed, the sound filling the room in a way that made it feel a little warmer.

*****

The sound of the front door opening pulled me from my thoughts. My pulse quickened as I walked toward the hallway, and there he was. Sergio. His shoulders were slumped, his face tired but alive. He looked at me, and before I could say anything, he crossed the room and pulled me into his arms.

I hadn’t realized how much I needed the weight of him holding me. The warmth of someone who had seen every ugly part of me and stayed anyway.

My hands gripped the back of his shirt tightly as I buried my face into his chest. The tears came fast, hot, and without warning. It wasn’t the kind of crying that came with sobs or gasps for air. It was quieter than that. Just a steady stream of emotion I couldn’t hold back anymore.

He held me tighter, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “I’d do this and more for you.”

I pulled back, looking up at him through blurry eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you, Sergio.”

His hand brushed against my cheek, wiping away a tear. “You don’t have to.”

But I did. He had been my lifeline through all of this, even when I hadn’t realized it.

We moved to the couch, and I tucked my legs under me as he sat close, his body angled toward mine. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words seemed stuck.

“Just say it,” I urged gently, my voice still shaky. “Whatever it is.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “I owe you an apology, Mirella. A real one. For everything.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“I do,” he interrupted, his eyes locking with mine. “I should have told you who I was the moment I saw you again. There’s no excuse for that. I thought the mask would protect you, but all it did was build a wall between us.”

He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I thought keeping my distance would make things easier, and that, maybe, it would keep you safe. But it was a lie I told myself because I was afraid. I didn’t know if you’d forgive me for being part of his world.”

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and my chest ached.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his. “I don’t blame you for the mask, Sergio. I really don’t. It’s what kept Don Carlos blind to what you were doing. And in the end, it was exactly what we needed to take him down.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I admitted. “But none of this has been black and white, has it? We’ve both made choices we thought were for the best, even when they weren’t.”

His brows furrowed. “What are you saying?”

I let out a slow breath, my hand pulling back to rest in my lap. “I’m saying I’m no saint either. I lied about not being Alex’s mother. I hid who I was as The Raven. I told myself it was to protect him, but if I’m being honest, part of it was because I didn’t completely trust you.”

His expression faltered, and I rushed to continue.

“It wasn’t because of anything you did, Sergio. You never gave me a reason to doubt you. It was me and my fear. My habit of keeping people at arm’s length because it was safer that way.”

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… we could 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.”

Alex giggled, his shyness fading just a little. “No way. You’re way bigger.”

Sergio chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly over Alex’s knuckles before letting go. “Big doesn’t always mean strong, you know. But I think you’ve got both.”

I watched them, my heart full in a way it hadn’t been in years. For so long, it had just been Alex and me, our little world built on quiet strength and fierce love. Now, seeing Sergio kneeling there, his every word and gesture filled with care, I knew our world had just gotten a little bigger.

Alex tilted his head, looking at Sergio curiously. “Do you like pizza?”

Sergio leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Like it? I love it. Especially with lots of cheese.”

Alex’s smile grew. “Me too! But no olives. Olives are gross.”

“Agreed,” Sergio said, his face serious. “No olives. Ever.”

I laughed softly, wiping my eyes. “Looks like you two are going to get along just fine.”

Sergio glanced at me, his gaze full of gratitude and something deeper. “I think so, too.”

Alex shifted on the bed, leaning closer to Sergio. “Do you want to see my dinosaur drawings now?”

Sergio nodded, his face lighting up. “I’d love to.”

Alex scrambled off the bed to grab his sketchpad, and I stood back, watching them. My heart swelled as the weight of years of fear and uncertainty lifted, piece by piece.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.