Page 79 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
Anyone who knew Sofia Cardenas will have that reaction. The resemblance is that strong.
We’re waved through, and the driveway winds through meticulously maintained grounds dotted with several buildings. Terracotta roofs, stucco walls, the kind of architecture that screams old money and older power. In the central courtyard, children play under the watchful eyes of women who must be Mia’s sisters-in-law.
Her nieces and nephews. The family she never knew she had.
Guards track our progress with trained precision, weapons ready but not quite aimed. Standard protocol for receiving unknown visitors, especially when those visitors could be threats.
“Is that where we’re going?” Mia points to the largest house, the obvious seat of power.
“Yes.”
I turn to face her, cupping her cheek in my palm. Her skin is warm, soft, and I memorize the feel of it because I might not get many more chances.
The front door opens before we reach it, and Miguel Cardenas emerges. Black hair streaked with silver, goatee perfectly trimmed, dressed in dark slacks and a crisp button-down that fits like it was tailored to his DNA. His hands are tucked into his pockets, but I can read the tension in his shoulders, the slight tick in his jaw.
He doesn’t trust me. Can’t fault his instincts.
I can feel crosshairs on my back as I get out and move around to open Mia’s door. Miguel’s men have orders to shoot if this goes sideways, and the only thing keeping me breathing is the fact that his daughter is standing next to me.
The moment Mia steps out of the car, Miguel’s entire demeanor changes.
The cool facade cracks. His eyes go wide, his steps hurried as he comes down from the porch. I’m watching a man see his dead wife’s face on his living daughter, and the emotion is too raw to hide.
He stops in front of her, hands settling on her shoulders like he needs to confirm she’s real.
“Your name is Mia?”
“Yeah. Mia Becerra.”
His mouth twists at that, something protective and possessive flashing in his eyes. “No. Not Becerra. You’re my daughter. That makes you a Cardenas.”
The certainty in his voice cuts through any doubt I might have had about how this reunion would go. He’s claimed her already.
“You believe I’m your daughter? Just like that?”
“There’s no denying you’re Sofia’s child.” His gaze flicks to me briefly, measuring, before returning to her face. “You’re her spitting image. And that makes you my little girl.”
Then he’s pulling her into a hug, and I watch my wife disappear into her father’s arms. The love on his face is immediate, unguarded, the kind of natural paternal affection a father feels for his child on display.
“Let’s go inside,” Miguel says when he finally releases her.
I gesture for my men to stay with the car and follow them into the house. It’s impressive. Different from my Vegas aesthetic but equally expensive. The furniture is minimal but sophisticated.The walls are off-white while the decor has rich coloring. Mosaic tiles, high ceilings, the kind of understated luxury that takes generations to perfect.
Miguel heads straight for the wet bar in the living room. “Drink?”
I decline. I’m in enemy territory with the most important person in my life, and I need every advantage I can get.
“Yes, please,” Mia says.
He pours two glasses of top-shelf tequila, and we settle into the seating area. Me beside Mia on the couch, Miguel in the chair facing us like a judge presiding over court.
“Tell me about yourself, Mia.”
At first, she’s stilted, uncertain how to compress twenty-six years into conversation with a stranger. But after a few minutes, the story of her life flows out of her between sips of tequila.
She doesn’t share everything, holding back about how she always felt like she didn’t quite belong with her family. I know her well enough by now to understand that she’s trying not to upset her father about the circumstances of her childhood any more than he already is.
I watch his face as she talks. Flickers of anger when she mentions her adoptive parents, grief for all the years he lost, pride as he learns about the woman she became despite everything.
