MY MYSTERIOUS MAFIA

CHAPTER 5 - SHADOWS AND SPARKS

The morning after felt like a dream I shouldn’t have woken up from. Or maybe a nightmare—I still couldn’t decide. All I knew was that when I opened my eyes, the silk sheets around me whispered a life I didn’t belong to. This wasn’t my room. This wasn’t my life.

For a long moment, I just sat there, frozen, staring at the unfamiliar walls. They were clean, modern, and elegant, not a crack in sight. The faint scent of expensive cologne hung in the air, seeping into my skin, reminding me of the man who had bled into my car just hours ago.

The stranger.

The mask.

The blood.

I touched my leg instinctively where the trap had cut me the night before, only to find it neatly bandaged. Someone had treated it while I was unconscious. My clothes were gone too—replaced with something soft, a simple silk robe that clung to my skin in a way that made me feel even more out of place.

And then my phone buzzed.

The sound jolted me back to myself, to reality, to the world I actually belonged to. I reached for it, my hands trembling. A notification blinked on the screen—my banking app. I opened it, expecting a payment from Antonio for last night’s work, maybe a transfer that would keep me afloat for another week.

But what I saw made my breath stop.

An amount far beyond what I had ever dreamed of seeing sat in my account. Enough to pay off my debts, my rent for the next year, and still have more than I’d ever dared to imagine.

It didn’t make sense. Why would anyone deposit that into my account? And yet, deep down, I already knew.

It was him.

The masked stranger.

Alejandro Cruz Santiago.

Though at that time, I didn’t know his name yet. To me, he was still a bleeding ghost who had crashed into my car and dragged me into his shadows. A man who had every reason to leave me behind but hadn’t. A man who had seen me, and for some reason, chosen not to let me go.

I swallowed hard, my heart thudding against my ribs. I should’ve been terrified. I should’ve called the police. I should’ve run from this silk-covered cage before he returned.

But I didn’t.

Because something inside me burned stronger than fear—curiosity.

Who was he? Why did he live behind a mask? Why had he chosen me—an ordinary girl with nothing to offer but codes and secrets—to step into his storm?

The door opened before I could answer any of my own questions.

I froze.

And there he was.

Alejandro.

No mask this time. Just a man. His presence filled the room like smoke, steady and suffocating, and my pulse quickened at the sight of him. His shirt was dark, the sleeve rolled up just enough to reveal the bandage on his arm where the bullet had grazed him. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, met mine and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“You’re awake,” he said simply, his voice deep, controlled.

I clenched the sheets in my fists. “Where am I?”

“My home,” he replied, walking further in. Every step of his felt deliberate, like he had already measured the distance between us. “You’re safe here.”

Safe. The word almost made me laugh. Nothing about him screamed safe. He was danger wrapped in silk and shadows, and yet… I believed him.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why am I here? Why didn’t you just leave me?”

His eyes lingered on me in silence, as if weighing whether to tell me the truth or feed me something easier. Then he said, his voice low but firm:

“Because you saw me. And because I don’t leave people who save my life.”

I blinked, my mouth parting, but no words came out. Save him? That wasn’t what had happened. I hadn’t saved anyone. He had forced his way into my car, bled all over my seat, and dragged me into his darkness. And yet, the way he said it, the way his gaze softened just slightly—it felt like he meant it.

I should’ve argued. I should’ve told him I wanted nothing to do with him. But instead, I found myself staring at him, trying to piece together the puzzle of his soul.

He broke the silence first. “You should eat. You’ll need your strength.”

That was when I noticed the tray in his hands. Breakfast. Fresh fruit, bread, coffee that smelled rich and expensive. He set it down on the nightstand beside me, his movements careful, as if he wasn’t used to doing something so… normal.

I swallowed, suddenly aware of how out of place I was in this world. My messy hair, my bare feet, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird. He, on the other hand, looked like he was born to command every room he walked into.

“Eat,” he repeated, then turned as if to leave.

But before he reached the door, I found my voice. “Wait.”

He paused, his back still to me.

I bit my lip, my words shaky but insistent. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. When he finally turned his head, his eyes locked onto mine, and in that moment, I felt the weight of every secret he carried.

“A man with two faces,” he said at last. Then he left the room.

My chest tightened, the words echoing in my mind. Two faces. I didn’t know what he meant, but I knew one thing for certain—whatever this man was hiding, it was bigger than anything I’d ever imagined.

And somehow, I was already too deep to walk away.

Alejandro’s POV

I should’ve let her go.

That thought circled my mind like a vulture, no matter how many times I tried to silence it. She was innocent—too innocent for my world. Yet there she was, in my room, wrapped in silk sheets that didn’t belong to her, eating food prepared in a house that was nothing more than a cage of shadows.

Isabella Marín.

Even her name was soft. Too soft for the blood that ran through the floors of this house.

I poured myself a glass of whiskey, though the sun was still rising outside. The burn was sharp, but not sharp enough to drown the image of her wide, curious eyes when she asked me who I was. A man with two faces. That’s all I’d given her. That’s all she needed to know. For now.

But I was a liar. And liars pay in blood.

I leaned back against the leather chair in my study, staring at the file Marco had placed on my desk. Antonio’s movements. Another shipment arriving at the docks tonight. Weapons, cash, and God knew what else he was pulling in under the Cruz name—the name he had stolen when he killed my parents.

Every breath I took was a reminder of why I wore the mask, why I had built El Cruz into something feared. Revenge was the only language I spoke. And yet…

Last night, for the first time in years, I had hesitated.

The memory clawed at me. I should’ve left her after the bullet grazed me. Should’ve called Diego to clean it up, to erase every trace of her existence from my night. But when her terrified eyes met mine in that car, something inside me cracked.

Something I didn’t want to name.

The door opened, pulling me from my thoughts. Diego stepped inside, his sharp eyes narrowing when he saw the untouched papers on my desk.

“She shouldn’t be here,” he said flatly, not even bothering with greetings.

I didn’t argue. I knew he was right. Diego always said what others were too afraid to. That was why I trusted him.

“I know,” I muttered.

“Then why is she?” His tone cut through me like a blade. “She’s a liability, Alejandro. Antonio’s men could’ve tracked you here. She saw your face. And if Antonio gets to her before you decide what to do—”

“Enough,” I snapped, sharper than I intended. My glass slammed against the desk, whiskey spilling across Antonio’s file like blood.

Diego didn’t flinch. He never did. He just stood there, arms crossed, waiting for me to say what we both knew.

“She’s not like them,” I said finally, my voice lower, rougher. “She doesn’t belong in Antonio’s world.”

Diego’s jaw tightened. “And neither did your parents. Look where that got them.”

The silence between us was suffocating. For a moment, all I could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall, marking the seconds of a life I’d already wasted on vengeance.

I closed the file, shoving it aside. “Get Sofia to prepare the team. Tonight, we hit Antonio’s shipment.”

Diego didn’t move. He just stared at me, eyes burning with an unspoken truth. “And the girl?”

The question lodged in my chest like a bullet.

The girl. Isabella.

I thought of her in that room, probably pacing now, probably trying to figure out who I was and why fate had dragged her into this storm. She was too fragile for this world, too pure for men like me. Keeping her here was reckless. Letting her go was suicide.

I rubbed a hand over my face, my voice low. “She stays. For now.”

Diego’s silence said everything he didn’t. When he finally left, I sat there in the dark, the weight of my choices pressing harder than ever.

Two faces.

Two lives.

And now, one girl who didn’t belong to either.

My phone buzzed, breaking the quiet. A message flashed on the screen.

Unknown Number: You’re slipping, Alejandro.

My blood froze. Only one man would dare send that. Antonio.

My uncle knew.

Knew I was alive.

Knew I was watching.

Knew I wasn’t done.

And if Antonio knew… then Isabella was already in danger.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping the floor. My chest tightened with the realization that hit me like gunfire:

Bringing her here hadn’t protected her.

I had just painted a target on her back.