The Mafia Secret Wife

The room went dead silent at his words.

​“Yes.”

​A collective gasp rippled through the reporters, followed instantly by a frenzy of flashing cameras and shouting voices. Isabella gasped, her delicate face draining of all color as shock and humiliation twisted her features.

,

​"Roman!" Isabella cried out, grabbing his arm to pull him away from me, her voice shrill over the noise of the crowd. "What are you doing?! Leave the staff to the paramedics and let's go! The cameras are recording everything!"

​Roman didn't even look at her. He shook her hand off his arm with a cold shoulder. "Touch her again and you lose the hand, Isabel

​My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm of utter disbelief. His wife? He had actually said it out loud, in front of the entire world, throwing away his high-society engagement and burning his reputation in a single breath. The world spun around me as Roman tucked my head against his broad chest, shielding me from the glaring lights, and carried me straight into the back of a waiting SUV.

The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off the noise outside, but the air inside the vehicle was suffocatingly thick.

​Roman took me straight to his secure penthouse estate. He didn't say a word during the ride, his silver eyes fixed out the window, dark and dangerous. The moment we stepped inside, he dragged me into the private study and slammed the heavy oak door shut behind us, locking it with a sharp, heavy click.

​The quiet in the room was instant and suffocating, broken only by the sound of our ragged breathing.

​"Roman, let go of me….”

Before I could step away, he moved with terrifying speed. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly and setting me down on the edge of his desk. He stepped directly between my thighs, boxing me in with his massive frame until there wasn't a breath of space left between us.

​My stomach churned. My hands instinctively pressed against his chest to push him back, but the heat radiating through his crisp dress shirt made my fingers tremble.

​"Do you have any idea what went through my head when I saw that rifle aimed at you?" Roman’s voice was barely a whisper, dark, ragged, and dangerous.

​"You ruined everything, Roman!" Tears of anger burned behind my eyes as I pushed against his chest, though my own pulse flared wildly at his proximity. "I built a life away from you! I had peace! You don't get to claim me now!" I continued, “ did u ever think of me? Did you ever plan on coming back? You fucking left me Roman! You don't get to act right now!!” I screamed at him with anger and frustration. 

​"Someone hired a hitman to track you down, Mia," he growled low in his throat, his hands sliding up to cup the back of my neck, forcing me to look into his eyes. "Publicly claiming you was the only thing stopping them from putting a bullet through your heart. No one touches a De Luca boss's wife without starting a war."

​"I don't care about your wars! All you care about is DE LUCA'S name!” 

Panic, cold and sudden, seized my throat. My three-year-old son, Leo, was still at my small apartment with his nanny, completely unprotected. I tried to wriggle off the desk, my hands frantic against his shoulders. "Let me go! I have to get home!"

​"You aren't going anywhere," Roman said flatly, his grip tightening just enough to keep me anchored. "I already sent a team of my best men to secure your apartment. You're staying here where it's safe."

​"You sent your men to my house?!" Terror spiked through my blood. My chest heaved as I shoved him with everything I had. "No! Call them off! Tell them to leave!"

I scrambled off the desk and bolted toward the study door, desperate to get to Leo before anyone found him. But Roman reached the door first, slamming his palm against the wood and blocking my escape. He trapped me against his chest, his breathing harsh against my neck as I fought helplessly against his hold.

​"Why are you acting like this?!" Roman demanded, his voice thick with frustration and concern. "It’s just an empty apartment, Mia! What could possibly be there that’s worth risking your life for?!"

​"Let me go!" I sobbed, pounding my fists against his chest, three years of fear, grief, and desperation finally overflowing. "You don't understand! Please, Roman, just let me go!"

​Before he could answer, his phone buzzed sharply in his pocket. He pulled it out, answering on speaker.

​"Boss," his lieutenant's tense voice filled the quiet room. "We reached the apartment. The front door was kicked off its hinges and the place was tossed. No sign of any shooter, but..." The lieutenant paused, sounding shaken. "We found a small black wooden chess piece sitting on the floor. A knight."

​Roman's face was drained of color. His jaw set into stone. A warning from the rival Syndicate.

​"And boss," the lieutenant added softly, "there was a nanny hiding in the building hallway. She said someone came in and searched the place... looking for a little boy."

​The air left my lungs completely. I sank back against the wall, my knees giving out as a dry sob tore from my throat.

​"Where is he?" Roman demanded, his silver eyes snapping to mine, filled with a sudden, sharp intensity. "Mia, where is the child?!"

​"He's safe," I choked out, tears streaming down my face as I clutched my head in my hands. "The nanny... she must have hidden him before they broke in..."

​Right then, my phone chimed loudly from the desk where I had left it. The screen flared to life with a text notification from the nanny, displaying a bright, clear photo of Leo sitting on my lap at the park, laughing brightly into the camera.

​Roman turned slowly. His silver eyes flicked down to the glowing screen.

​He froze.

​The storm in his eyes vanished, replaced by an eerie, terrifying stillness. He stared at the photo of the little boy with dark hair and striking eyes, then slowly looked up at me.

​He walked over to the desk, picked up the phone with trembling fingers, and stared at the screen.

​"How old is he, Mia?" Roman asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, barely audible whisper.

​I buried my face in my hands, unable to speak, my body shaking with silent sobs.

​Roman stared at the photo, silently counting the months, the years, and the three long years since he had vanished from my life.

​The phone almost slipped from his hand as he looked back at me, his voice cracking with shock, disbelief, almost like he wanted to cry.

He looked at me and asked, “Mia… that’s my son, isn’t it?”