In the arms of My mafia Ex

Lily Montgomery

The taxi door opens, and the cold New York air hits my face like a punch. I pay the driver and step onto the sidewalk, pulling my coat tighter around my body. Winter in the city has always been cruel, but this time it feels even harsher. Maybe it’s because I’m different. Maybe it’s because, this time, I’m alone.

People rush past, some immersed in their phones, others lost in their own worlds. Typical. The city’s frantic pace has never changed, but something inside me has. I feel out of place, as if New York is no longer my home. Or maybe it never was.

It’s strange to be back, especially for such a cruel reason: my mother’s death. A whirlwind of emotions surges in my chest, heavy and confusing. I can’t say we were close. My mother was always a difficult, distant woman, as if there was something about me that reminded her of a past mistake. But in the end, she was still my mother. And now, she’s gone.

I left New York four years ago to finish my degree in Literature. At the time, my life was a complete mess. I lived in a tiny dorm provided by the university and struggled to establish myself as a writer, but my career was far from promising. Personally? A total disaster. Especially when Matteo Salvatore left without an explanation, leaving me with an engagement ring and a shattered heart.

My phone vibrates in my coat pocket, and I take a deep breath before answering.

"Miss Montgomery?" The female voice on the other end is polite but impersonal. "I’m sorry for your loss, but we need the payment to finalize your mother’s funeral services."

My stomach twists. The little money I had was spent on a modest Airbnb stay. My mother’s house was mortgaged, and I had no alternatives. Damn it.

"I’ll send the amount this afternoon. Thank you," I murmur, hanging up before she can say anything else.

The traffic light turns red, and I cross the street quickly. The truth is, I knew this moment would come. Over the past few months, I spent everything I had and more. My job at a struggling newspaper barely covered my basic expenses. Now, besides the pain of loss, I have to face the harsh financial reality.

Terminal cancer. That was the truth. A merciless diagnosis that took my mother before we could resolve our issues. But would we have? If she had more time, would she have told me everything she had been hiding for years?

When I reach the small rented apartment, I prepare for the funeral. The weight in my chest grows heavier with every passing minute. And when I finally arrive at the funeral home, silent tears stream down my face as I say my goodbyes.

"Goodbye, Mom," I whisper, touching the cold wood of the casket.

After the ceremony, I take a taxi to my mother’s old house. I need to gather a few belongings before it’s too late. I search through drawers, boxes, and scattered memories of the past. Then, among old papers, I find an envelope with my name on it.

The delicate and familiar handwriting makes me hesitate. My fingers tremble as I open the letter.

"Dear Lily,

I know I don’t have much time left in this world. And I feel that I cannot leave you unprotected.

I told you that your father was dead, that he passed away before you were born, but I lied. I lied to protect you.

I know your writing career is struggling and that you have nowhere to go, so you need to know the truth: your father is alive.

His name is Luigi Romano.

I love you."

My breath catches. My father wasn’t dead. He was alive. My mother lied to me my entire life. But why? What was she trying to protect me from?

I swallow hard, a mix of anger and disbelief washing over me. I leave the house and take a taxi back, but traffic is chaotic. Exhausted, I get out halfway and decide to walk.

My mind races, tangled in doubts and theories. Until suddenly, my heel snaps in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Damn it!" I grumble, trying to keep my balance. As if my day wasn’t bad enough.

Turning the corner, I bump into someone. The impact makes me step back, and for a second, my world stops.

I recognize him instantly.

Matteo Salvatore.

The man I loved.

The man who broke my heart.

My ex-fiancé.

My throat goes dry. Matteo stares at me as if he’s seeing a ghost from the past. He looks different but at the same time exactly as I remember: intense blue eyes, an impeccable black suit, a firm and controlled posture. But there’s something else. Something dark in his gaze.

My mind flashes back to the last message I received from him. The sudden breakup, no explanation. Two years together, an engagement… and then, absolute silence.

The shock fades into desperation, and before he can say anything, I do the only thing I can: I turn around and run.

My feet ache, my heart pounds, but I don’t stop. When I finally reach the apartment, I toss my shoes in the trash and collapse onto the couch, breathless.

Of all the people in New York, I had to run into Matteo.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It doesn’t matter. Now, my priority is something else.

I open my laptop and type a name into the search bar.

Luigi Romano.

If he really is my father, I need to find out who the hell he is.