MY MYSTERIOUS MAFIA

CHAPTER 2 - SHADOWS OF THE PAST

The first thing I noticed when my eyes fluttered open wasn’t the soft sheets or the golden morning light streaming through tall windows. It was the silence. Not the silence of my cramped little apartment, filled with the hum of my old laptop and the rattle of the neighbor’s pipes, but a deeper silence. The kind that pressed on your skin, heavy and watchful.

I sat up slowly, blinking at the room around me. It looked like something out of a magazine—sleek furniture, dark wood floors, a faint trace of cologne in the air that made my chest tighten. My clothes from last night were gone, replaced by a silk nightdress I didn’t remember putting on. My breath hitched. For a second, my mind screamed one word—kidnapped.

But then the memories came rushing back like a storm. The masked man. The blood. The warehouse. His eyes—dark, dangerous, yet somehow… human.

And I realized, with a shiver, that I wasn’t a prisoner. I was… something else.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. My heart nearly leapt into my throat as I grabbed it, fingers trembling. A notification blinked on the screen.

Incoming Deposit: €500,000

I froze. Half a million euros. Sitting in my account as though it belonged there. My first thought was that it had to be a mistake. But the sender name made my stomach flip—Cruz Holdings International.

Alejandro Cruz Santiago.

The name that had been whispered in Madrid for years. The billionaire, the golden boy, the man who smiled at cameras and charmed politicians. And yet, last night, I had seen him in the shadows, mask on his face and blood on his hands.

The two didn’t match. And yet… they did.

A soft creak made me snap my head toward the door. My pulse skittered.

He walked in.

Alejandro.

Not masked this time. His face bare, sharp lines softened only by the faint exhaustion in his eyes. A bandage wrapped around his arm where the bullet had grazed him, but he moved with the same predator grace I had seen last night. As though pain was beneath him.

And yet… he wasn’t what I expected. Not the monster from the streets, not the untouchable billionaire from the magazines. He looked real. Dangerous, yes. But real.

“You’re awake,” he said, voice low, steady.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “You—” My voice cracked. I had to force myself to meet his eyes. “Who are you really?”

His lips twitched, not quite a smile. “That depends on who’s asking.”

I gripped the sheets tighter. “The girl you nearly bled out on.”

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between us. Then he exhaled, crossing the room slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. He stopped a few feet away, close enough for me to see the faint scar along his jawline, but far enough that I could still breathe.

“You saved me last night,” he said simply.

“No,” I shot back, surprising even myself. “I didn’t save you. I just… drove. You told me to drive. Anyone could’ve done that.”

He tilted his head, studying me as if I were a puzzle. “And yet you didn’t run.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came. Because he was right. I could’ve left him. I could’ve thrown him out of my car and sped away. But I hadn’t. Something about him—something I couldn’t name—had kept me there.

He moved closer, slow, deliberate. My breath caught as his presence filled the space around me, heavy and magnetic. He leaned down, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Curiosity is dangerous, Isabella,” he murmured, his voice brushing against my skin like a warning. “It can get you killed.”

My name on his lips sent a shiver through me. I hadn’t told him. He knew. Of course he knew. A man like him probably knew everything about me already.

But instead of fear, what I felt was something worse. Something I didn’t want to admit. A pull.

I forced myself to look away, clutching my phone like a shield. “Then why give me this?” I lifted the screen, the number glowing like fire between us. “Half a million euros. What am I supposed to do with this?”

His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, softly, he said, “Consider it… protection. Payment for what you risked last night.”

“Protection?” My laugh came out shaky. “Money doesn’t protect people, Alejandro. It paints a target on their back.”

His eyes flickered—something dark, something almost regretful. He reached out, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he’d take the phone from my hand. But instead, his fingers brushed the nightstand, inches from mine.

“Then stay close to me,” he said.

My heart thudded so hard I thought he could hear it.

Stay close to him.

The words should’ve terrified me. And maybe they did. But deep down, another voice whispered—closer to him was exacI didn’t answer him. How could I? Stay close to him? To a man who bled in my car, who fought gunmen like shadows, who carried secrets darker than midnight?

And yet… his words stayed lodged in my chest like a brand.

He straightened before I could speak, adjusting the cuff of his shirt, the mask of composure sliding back over his features. Alejandro Cruz Santiago, the man the world adored. But now, I had seen what lay beneath. And no amount of perfectly tailored suits could erase that memory.

“You’ll stay here for a while,” he said, tone clipped, final. “It’s safer than wherever you were going last night.”

My brows furrowed. “Safer? From who? Antonio?”

The second his uncle’s name left my lips, something flickered in his eyes. A shadow. He moved to the window, pulling the curtain slightly, scanning the city as though it were a chessboard only he could see.

“Antonio doesn’t forgive. He doesn’t forget,” he said quietly, almost to himself. Then his gaze snapped back to me. “And now he knows you exist.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“Because of you,” I whispered.

“Yes.” His honesty hit harder than any denial. He didn’t soften it. He didn’t offer apologies. He simply gave me the truth, sharp as a blade. “He’ll use you if he can. That’s why you’ll stay close to me—or you won’t stay alive at all.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him I didn’t belong in his bloody world, that I wanted my small life back—my late nights coding, my worn-out apartment, the safety of anonymity. But when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Because part of me knew the truth. My life had changed the moment he slid into my car.

There was no going back.

The sound of a door opening downstairs broke the silence. My chest tightened. Instinctively, I clutched the blanket around me, but Alejandro didn’t flinch. His hand slipped casually into his pocket, where I knew a weapon rested.

A moment later, footsteps echoed. Then Diego appeared in the doorway, his sharp eyes sweeping over me before locking onto Alejandro.

“Antonio’s men were seen near Chamberí,” Diego reported, voice low but urgent. “They’re watching. Waiting. He’s testing the waters.”

Alejandro’s jaw tightened, but his calm didn’t waver. “Then let him watch. He’ll learn nothing.”

Diego hesitated, then his gaze flicked toward me. Suspicion lingered there, unspoken questions. Why was I here? Why was I still alive?

I lifted my chin, refusing to shrink under his stare. I hadn’t chosen this. But I wasn’t going to let them look at me like prey.

“She stays,” Alejandro said firmly, cutting through the tension. “No one touches her.”

The finality in his voice sent a strange heat through me. Protection or possession—I wasn’t sure which.

Diego nodded, but the warning in his eyes remained as he turned to leave. Alejandro waited until the door closed before facing me again.

“You’ll learn fast, Isabella,” he said. “In my world, loyalty is the only currency that matters.”

I frowned. “And what if I don’t want to be part of your world?”

For the first time since I had met him, he almost smiled. Not the polished smile for cameras, not the faint curl of mockery I had seen in the warehouse, but something sharper. Sadder.

“Then the world will decide for you.”

The rest of the day passed in fragments. Guards moved in and out of the house like shadows, their presence both reassuring and suffocating. My phone buzzed with messages from coworkers and friends, but I ignored them. What could I say? That I was living under the roof of Madrid’s most dangerous man? That I had half a million euros in my account and no idea if it was salvation or a curse?

By evening, I found myself wandering into the vast library on the second floor. Rows of books lined the walls, but my attention caught on a small chessboard near the window. Pieces frozen mid-game.

Alejandro stood there, one hand on a black knight, his gaze far away.

“You play?” I asked quietly.

His eyes lifted to mine, dark and unreadable. “Always.”

“Who’s winning?”

His lips curved faintly. “Depends. Black is patient. White is reckless.”

I moved closer, drawn despite myself. “Which are you?”

His gaze lingered on me for a long moment before he said, “Both.”

Something in my chest tightened. Because I believed him. He was both. Light and dark. Fortune and ruin. A man who could smile in boardrooms and kill in alleys.

And I was standing too close to the board, too close to him, caught in a game I didn’t understand.

I opened my mouth to ask more, but then the sharp crack of gunfire shattered the silence.

The window exploded.

Alejandro lunged, knocking me to the floor as glass rained around us. My scream caught in my throat as another shot whizzed past, embedding into the wooden shelves. His body covered mine, shielding me with a force that stole my breath.

“Stay down!” he barked, already pulling his gun free.

Chaos erupted. Guards stormed in, shouting orders, returning fire. The library filled with smoke and gunpowder. I pressed against the floor, trembling, but my eyes never left him.

Alejandro moved like the predator I had first seen. Efficient. Deadly. Each shot precise, each motion calculated.

But even as he fought, even as danger closed in around us, his arm stayed braced in front of me. Protecting me.

And in that moment, with glass glittering around us and death clawing at the door, one truth seared into my soul—

I wasn’t watching from the outside anymore.

I was inside his world.

And there was no escape.