Page 9

MIRELLA

The city lights blurred as I sped down the highway. New York has always had a way to my heart and could distract me with its vibrancy. But today, it could not. The quiet hum of the engine was the only sound in the car. My mind was a mess of images and sensations—Sergio’s warm breath against my skin, the weight of his hands guiding mine, the way his voice dropped when he whispered instructions. For a brief moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

And then, almost without thinking, I’d tilted my head. He’d leaned in just enough for me to catch his scent—woodsy and sharp, like danger wrapped in charm. It was stupid, reckless, and entirely too tempting. A kiss was one step away, and I barely stopped myself.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, shaking my head. Sergio was a time bomb, and I’d be a fool to let myself get caught in his blast radius. I knew better. I had to know better. My heart had already been chewed up and spit out by one man who turned my world upside down. That stranger from years ago left me shattered when he died trying to save me, a death that still haunts me today. If I had said no to him, he would still be alive and now. I had nothing to show for it except a hollow ache and a father who’d vanished into thin air.

Love wasn’t just a weakness. It was a liability. In our world, you can’t afford liabilities. I repeated that to myself, over and over, as the city blurred past me.

But no matter how hard I tried to push Sergio out of my mind, he kept slipping back in. There was something about him—something I couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t just danger. He was something more, something familiar. I didn’t trust it, but I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to it, either.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was more exhausted by my thoughts than the day itself. I walked into my home, kicking off my heels, and headed straight for my study. The dim glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room as I sat down and opened my laptop.

Raven. That’s who I was now. Not Mirella, the girl who loved fairy tales and dreamed of simpler days. Raven didn’t have time for dreams. She had goals, a reputation, and a territory to protect. And right now, that territory was about to be threatened.

For months, Enzo and I had been monitoring the shipment Ryan had talked about. It would be one of the largest shipments they have received in years—guns, drugs, name it all. It was almost like Don Carlos was preparing for a fucking war, a war he was going to win if I didn’t stop him.

I clicked through my encrypted files until I found the confirmation I needed. Soho. Tomorrow. Don Carlos was moving his precious cargo right into a zone I’d been eyeing for months. It was the perfect opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away.

I grabbed my phone and called Enzo.

He walked in a few minutes later, his grin already telling me he was about to start trouble. “You only call me to this office when you’re plotting something big. Should I be worried?”

I rolled my eyes, gesturing for him to sit. “Don Carlos is moving a shipment through Soho tomorrow. I just confirmed it.”

His grin widened. “And here I thought you told me to focus solely on your father. Now you’re dragging me into shipment business?”

“It’s all connected,” I smirked, trying to hide my defeat. Though the truth was, I hated it when he was right.

Enzo leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “All connected, huh? You’re sounding suspiciously like me. And here I thought you didn’t want to get your hands dirty with his operations.”

“This isn’t about him,” I said, but even I wasn’t convinced. “It’s about territory. If we intercept that shipment, we can cripple his standing in Soho. You’ve seen the numbers. That loss would hit him where it hurts.”

Enzo raised a brow. “And Sergio? Where does he fit into this neat little plan of yours? Yes, I dug into him. He’s Don Carlos’s son with a military background. Somehow, you two seem to have been close friends.”

My stomach twisted at the mention of his name. I kept my expression neutral. “He’s just collateral. He’s working for his father. So it’s nothing personal.”

Enzo didn’t buy it for a second. “Nothing personal? Mirella, you’ve got that look. The same one you had when you were about to get tangled up with some mess. How do we know Sergio isn’t just as bad—or worse—than his father?”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I know him, Enzo. We were kids together. We grew up together. He’s not like Don Carlos.”

“You knew him,” Enzo corrected, his tone sharp. “People change, especially in this line of work. You can’t afford to get sentimental.”

His words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I stared at my desk, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I’m not sentimental,” I muttered. “I’m focused.”

“Focused?” Enzo leaned forward, his voice lowering. “Then explain why you’re hesitating. If this were anyone else, you wouldn’t bat an eye. We would be talking about how to bring down the fucking ground down. We have the men to rain down hell on them.”

He was right, and I hated it. I hated the knot in my chest every time Sergio’s name came up. I hated the way my mind replayed the way he looked at me—like I was someone worth knowing.

Enzo sighed, leaning back again. “Listen. You know what weakness does in our world. When bullets start flying, you don’t have time to think about feelings. You have to act.”

I met his gaze, forcing myself to look calm. “I’m not weak, Enzo. I’m on top of this.”

“You’d better be,” he said, his tone softening just slightly. “Because the moment you let someone get under your skin, it’s game over. You, of all people, should know this, but we need to plan. This won’t be an easy operation,”

We spent the next hour strategizing. Enzo mapped out routes and contingencies, his sharp mind turning plans into something almost foolproof. The whole time, a small voice in the back of my head whispered that I was betraying Sergio. But I silenced it. This was business. Nothing personal.

By the time we were done, I was exhausted. Enzo stood, stretching before heading for the door. He paused, looking back at me. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

I nodded. “I’m ready.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “If you say so, Raven.”

When the door clicked shut, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Raven was ready. Raven was focused. Mirella, though? She was another story entirely. I needed to take a shower and wash out all these intrusive thoughts.

The hot water hit my shoulders, washing away the grime of the day, but it did nothing to clear my head. Sergio’s touch lingered like a ghost, impossible to shake. I closed my eyes, and the memory of his hands guiding mine came rushing back. His voice had been steady, his tone low and almost teasing. And the way he leaned in—it was maddening. He’d been so close, his breath warm against my ear. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped.

I turned the water to cold, shivering as the chill snapped me back to reality. This wasn’t the time to lose focus. Enzo’s words echoed in my mind: You can’t afford weakness. When bullets fly, you need to act.

He was right. I couldn’t let myself get distracted by a man, even if that man was Sergio—especially because that man was Sergio. He was a complication I couldn’t afford.

Wrapping a towel around me, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my phone from the bedside table. A text lit up the screen.

“ You up?”

My heart jumped as I saw the ID and picture that confirmed my darkest thought. Sergio. How had he even gotten my number? Then I remembered—when I came back to New York, I’d listed it on my dad’s address records, trying to blend in and appear normal—a normal daughter of a powerful man, not someone with secrets buried deeper than most people could imagine.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a call. Why was he calling? I didn’t want to talk to him. That was a lie, I wanted to. I wanted to hear what his voice sounded like from the echoes of a telephone. Would it still have the same effect on me the way it did when he was an inch away from me?

I picked up, keeping my voice steady. “What do you want, Sergio?” I didn’t mean to come off as apprehensive, but I was already frustrated by the way thoughts of him were clouding all my rational ones.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his tone light but edged with something deeper. “Figured you might be awake too.”

I leaned back against the pillows, trying to keep my voice casual. “And why’s that?”

“Because you never could stay calm the night before something big,” he responded, a smile in his words. “You’d always be up, pacing or planning some elaborate scheme.”

“That was a long time ago,” I said, though I couldn’t help the small grin tugging at my lips. “I’m not the same person I was back then.”

“Neither am I,” he admitted, his voice softening. “But some things don’t change. Like how you always take on more than you should.”

I rolled my eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can,” he said, a note of concern slipping through. “But this isn’t just another day in the park. You don’t have to go tomorrow, Mirella. Let me handle it.”

His words caught me off guard. There was a care in his voice I hadn’t expected, and it disarmed me in a way I wasn’t ready for. “You’re worried about me?”

“You’re not invincible,” he said plainly. “I know you like to act like you are, but… just be careful. It is not worth proving anything to my dad.”

A beat of silence passed between us. I didn’t know what to say, and Sergio, surprisingly, didn’t push. Instead, his tone shifted, lighter, teasing. “Do you remember that time you tried to climb that tree in your backyard?”

I laughed, the memory rushing back. “You mean the time I successfully climbed it? I don’t remember you helping much.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t let me. You were too busy yelling that you didn’t need anyone’s help,” he shot back. “And then you got stuck.”

I groaned, the embarrassment still fresh. “I did not get stuck. I just paused to appreciate the view.”

“Sure,” he said, clearly grinning. “And who was it that had to climb up and help you down when you started crying?”

“I did not cry,” I protested, though I couldn’t stop smiling. “And you didn’t exactly help. You made fun of me the whole way down.”

“I was ten,” he said, laughing. “Cut me some slack.”

We fell into an easy rhythm, trading stories from the past. He reminded me of the time I dared him to steal cookies from my dad’s kitchen, and I brought up the time he tripped into a fountain trying to impress some girl at a party. It felt natural, like slipping into an old pair of shoes. For a moment, the tension between us didn’t exist.

But then the laughter faded, and his voice softened again. “I’ve always wanted to protect you, you know.”

The words hit something deep inside me, and I didn’t know how to respond. Protect me? From what? From himself? From the world we were both tangled in?

I forced a smile into my voice, trying to keep things light. “I don’t need protecting, Sergio. Not then, not now.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and for once, I didn’t know how to break it. My walls felt thinner than they’d been in years, and Sergio was standing too close. I was dangerously close to letting him in, and I couldn’t afford that. Not now.

“Sergio,” I began, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I chose to run. I pressed down on the red button, ending the call and letting out an exasperated gasp.

These feelings were reckless, and when bullets started flying, these feelings were going to get me killed.