HIDING THE MAFIA DON'S SON

Mireille's POV

The ghosts of my past had swirled in my foggy head as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the office of Phantom & Co.

Something was wrong.

There were no heels clicked against the tile, no whispered gossip about last night's scandals and no impatient sighs from caffeine-deprived employees huddled around the coffee machine, waiting for the usual burnt sludge.

Morgan, the receptionist at the first floor hadn't exaggerated. She had told me earlier, on my way in, in a tight whisper, threading urgency between the static. I had barely listened, too busy crafting another excuse for being late.

There had been a layoff.

Not just any layoff. Executives layoff.

Dread coiled in my stomach, tightening like a noose as I stepped forward. I was hoping to see a cardboard box with my name scrawled across it, my things carelessly dumped inside.

Dragging in a deep breath, I braced for the inevitable.

And then-

A voice sliced through the silence, razor-sharp and impossible.

"Finally. I've been waiting for you."

The air in my lungs turned to stone and my pulse slammed against my throat.

It had to be a stress-induced hallucination. There was no way he was here.

"You're the P.A., aren't you? You're late."

I didn't turn around. I didn't breathe.

Slowly, mechanically, I forced myself to turn. And there he was.

Tall. Composed. The same-but different.

And yet, it still knocked the breath from my lungs.

His name slipped out before I could stop it.

"Laziel."

His dark eyes met mine, and time folded in on itself. I steeled myself, sculpting my expression into something neutral and distant to see another boss who thought he owned the place.

But then I saw it.

His eyes widened. He knew it was me.

"Mireille," he said, my real name, slipping from his tongue like it never had left.

The weight of the past slammed into me, pressing down until I could barely breathe.

"Why are you here?"

For a split second, I wanted to tell him.

I wanted to tell him I had built this life from scratch. That I had buried Mireille Montanari six feet under and had become Rachel Carter-the efficient, reliable assistant who kept this company from falling apart.

That I had disappeared because he told me to.

But he was here. Standing in front of me. And suddenly, everything I had built felt like a house of cards in a hurricane.

My fingers twitched. My throat tightened. I didn't trust my voice not to shake, so I did the only thing I could.

I lied.

"Rachel." I shoved my hand toward him, my smile practiced, plastic. "I'm Rachel. Nice to meet you."

His gaze flicked from my outstretched hand to my face.

And then, I saw it-

He didn't believe me.

He took my hand anyway. His grip was firm, his thumb brushing over the inside of my wrist. A small movement, barely anything, but it was enough to send my heart into a full sprint. I remembered this. The way he used to do it. The way he could read me through the pulse beneath his fingertips.

I ripped my hand away just as David, one of the mid-level managers, stepped up beside me.

Thank God.

David threw himself into the conversation like he belonged there, and I let him.

"Mr. De Leone is looking for the keys to the kingdom, Elle. Passwords, keys, all of them."

I hated how familiar he made it sound, like we were old friends instead of just coworkers. But right now, I took it. I took anything that put more space between me and Laziel.

But Laziel had other plans.

He stepped closer. Not enough to make a scene. But enough that David shifted back. Enough that now, it was just me and him, standing too close in an office that suddenly felt too small.

His voice dropped, just for me. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

My stomach twisted.

I spun away heading into the office before I could do something stupid. "I have a file with all the security information on my laptop, sir. I'll get it for you."

My fingers shook as I typed my password.

Wrong.

I tried again.

Wrong.

Again.

The screen finally unlocked with a soft chime, but it didn't make me feel any better. My heart was still racing. My hands were still trembling.

And I could still feel his eyes on me.

"You're a hard woman to find." He said as he casually strolled into my office, headed for where I was standing.

My breath caught. I glanced around. We were alone. Of course, we were. His office was tucked away at the back of the third floor, and my desk sat just outside his door.

Too close.

"Sorry. I was running late this morning," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I would have been on time if I'd known I was going to see-meet my new boss."

The word stumbled out awkwardly, and I hated how unsteady I sounded. But I could feel it-the weight of his stare pressing into me, dragging me back to a past I never wanted to revisit.

He leaned in, elbows braced on my desk, close enough that I caught the faint scent of him.

God, I remembered that scent.

"Are we going to pretend we haven't met before?"

I gripped the edge of my desk, grounding myself, and forced my gaze to meet his. Those sharp, knowing eyes studied me like he had already picked me apart and put me back together in his mind.

I couldn't let him see how much he unsettled me.

Six years ago, I had left him asleep in that hotel suite and disappeared. Motels that didn't charge my card until checkout had kept me hidden for a while. But my plan fell apart when exhaustion and morning sickness hit. One morning, I was too sick to leave before my card was charged-leading my father straight to me.

He had found me hunched over a filthy toilet and had seen the positive pregnancy test. And without hesitation, he had ordered me to get rid of it.

I refused because I had one card left to play-this baby belonged to Laziel De Leone.

That had changed everything. My father, sensing Laziel's uncertain grip on the De Leone mafia, had decided I was worth keeping. A trick up his sleeve for the right moment.

He had asked me how much my freedom was worth. And I had learned the cost that day.

I never wanted to pay that price again.

Losing this job meant starting over-again. And I didn't know if I had it in me.

I cleared my throat. "What's your email? Is it the same as Mr. Taylor's old account, or do you have a new one set up?"

He didn't answer.

"How long have you been here?" he asked instead.

Something in his tone made my stomach turn. As if he was already considering who to punish for failing to find me sooner.

I refused to take the bait. "I can set up a new account for you. I'll send the file there. Then you'll have everything you need."

"Don't bother." His voice dipped, heat curling around his words. "I already have what I want."

A prickle of unease slid over my skin. When I pulled my hand from the mouse, his gaze followed, darkening.

"You're being inappropriate."

I pushed my chair back, turning to face him, refusing to acknowledge the way my heart pounded against my ribs.

Laziel's lips curled slightly, something dangerous flickering in his expression, something sharp enough to cut. "Then maybe I shouldn't tell you that you look fucking delicious."

Heat prickled up my neck. My jaw tightened. "Maybe not."

The air between us crackled, thick with tension, thick with things I didn't want to hear, with memories I had spent years trying to forget. But memories had a way of creeping back in, sliding beneath my skin like a slow poison.

"I don't know how things usually operate under your control, but-"

"Actually..." His voice dipped, rich, knowing. "I think you have an intimate understanding of what it's like to be under my control... Mireille."

My name rolled off his tongue like a claim. A possession.

A sharp breath caught in my throat. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"My name is Rachel," I forced out.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, the sound dark and lethal. "I know who you are." His gaze bore into mine. "I could never forget."

The rough edge to his voice sent a shiver sliding down my spine.

That night, he had barely spoken to me at all. He wasn't supposed to.

I was meant to marry Alfred-his older brother.

Until Laziel walked in. Until he saw Alfred's hand crack across my face, saw me stumble, saw the unshed tears burning in my eyes.

And just like that, everything changed.

I didn't remember the exact moment it happened. The shift. The snap.

One second, Alfred was the Don. The next, he was on the ground, his own blood staining the floor beneath him.

Laziel had saved me. Had thrown Alfred out-not just from the bridal suite, but from my life. From his own throne.

And then... one thing led to another.

I didn't know him. Not really. But he was right about one thing-I had never forgotten the sound of his voice. His scent. The way the air itself had seemed to hold its breath when he was near.

And now, standing before me, dark eyes locked onto mine, I realized something else.

I never would.

This thing between us-it was raw, dangerous. Chemistry. Pheromones. Something primal, impossible to ignore. Every time I saw Laziel, my body didn't know whether to fight, flee... or give in.

I forced myself to look away, to focus on something, anything, that wasn't him. My eyes landed on the large bouquet sitting on his desk.

Two dozen red roses. Bold. Striking. A card dangled from the vase, a heart scrawled in the corner.

The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Who are the flowers from?"

His eyes didn't waver. "Don't change the subject."

A pit formed in my stomach. My pulse roared in my ears.

"...Are they from your wife?"