Beneath The Mafia Masks

Mira had stopped believing in love a long time ago.

At twenty-two, she was close to stepping out of the life she had always known. Her days were still filled with lectures, assignments, and crowded hallways, but her mind was already somewhere else.

She was thinking about money.

Independence.

A future no one could take away from her.

Mira had warm brown skin, long dark hair, and calm, thoughtful eyes. She was beautiful in a quiet way-the kind of beauty people noticed only after she had already walked past them.

She did not seek attention. She did not trust easily. And she had learned how to keep her feelings hidden behind a composed face.

But beneath that calm exterior was a young woman who wanted more from life.

She wanted to leave her old world behind.

She wanted to make her own money.

And most of all, she wanted a life that did not depend on a man.

Not because she had never wanted love.

That was the problem.

She had wanted it too much.

Her first crush had happened years earlier.

There had been a boy she liked from a distance. She had never told him how she felt. She simply watched him quietly and secretly hoped that one day he would notice her.

He never did.

Instead, he liked someone else.

That was the first time Mira learned that feelings did not need to be confessed to hurt.

Her second experience was worse.

It happened after she began attending university.

There was a boy in one of her classes who slowly became familiar to her. At first, Mira had not trusted him. But he remembered the little things she said. He made her laugh during stressful days. He listened whenever she spoke.

Without realizing it, Mira began looking for him everywhere.

She began to hope.

Then one afternoon, she saw him with another woman.

The way he looked at her told Mira everything she needed to know.

He was already in a relationship.

Mira stood there for a moment, holding two bottles of cold water-one for herself and one for him.

She did not ask questions.

She did not confront him.

She simply threw his bottle into a nearby bin and walked away.

That day, something inside her changed.

Mira stopped expecting people to choose her.

She stopped believing that kindness meant love.

And she stopped allowing herself to hope.

After that, she focused on her studies and her future.

Assignments.

Lectures.

Examinations.

Anything that kept her mind away from romance.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the open romance novel in her hands without actually reading a single word.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Outside her window, evening traffic hummed in the distance. A motorcycle passed. Someone shouted from the street below. Somewhere in the house, a plate clattered against another.

Mira did not move.

Her eyes remained fixed on the same paragraph. She had been staring at it for almost ten minutes.

"You're doing it again."

Mira blinked and looked up.

Her mother stood in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame.

"Doing what?"

"Reading without reading."

Mira frowned.

"I am reading."

Her mother glanced at the book.

"You've been staring at that page since I called you for dinner."

Mira looked down. She quickly turned the page.

"There. Now I'm reading another page."

Her mother laughed softly.

"You and these books."

Mira smiled.

At least books never lied to her.

Well...

They lied all the time.

They just did it beautifully.

In books, the quiet girl eventually found someone who noticed her.

The misunderstood girl was loved.

The girl who thought she wasn't enough discovered that she had always been more than enough.

And somehow, after all the heartbreak, the handsome man always came back.

Real life wasn't like that.

Mira knew.

She had learned it the hard way.

"Mira."

She looked up again.

Her mother was still standing in the doorway.

"Dinner."

"I'm coming."

Her mother gave her one last look before leaving.

Mira stared at the book for another moment. Then she closed it and placed it beside her.

The cover showed a handsome man holding a woman beneath the rain.

The woman looked happy.

Mira almost laughed.

Then she whispered to herself, "Love is overrated anyway."

She wasn't sure whether she believed it.

But saying it made it easier.

Mira stood up and walked toward the door.

Soon, she would finish school.

After that, she would find work, save money, and build a life that belonged entirely to her.

A life without depending on anyone.

Especially not a man.

She had no idea that her carefully planned future was about to change.

Not because she was looking for love.

She wasn't.

But sometimes, the thing a person runs from is the very thing waiting for them at the end of the road.