Home / Mafia / The Mafia Man wants my Heart / Chapter 3: Vanished

Share

Chapter 3: Vanished

Author: Efita
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-20 23:58:21

I jolted awake, a shudder ripping through me before I could fully process why.

The room was dark, but something felt… off. My breath came in uneven gasps as I scanned my surroundings, my mind still groggy with sleep. The bed beneath me was slightly rumpled, the blankets twisted from restless tossing. But that wasn’t what sent ice trickling down my spine.

The silence.

It was too still.

I turned my head toward the spot where he had been slumped against the wall. Empty.

My pulse kicked up. I scrambled upright, my bare feet hitting the cold wooden floor as I stumbled toward the window. It was slightly ajar, the cracked pane allowing a thin breeze to snake through. I pressed my fingertips to the glass. Still cool.

He was gone.

A part of me had expected this, but now that it was real, I felt an odd mix of relief and unease. He had been injured—badly. And yet, he had vanished into the night like a phantom, leaving nothing behind except a smear of dried blood on the floorboards.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling against my arms as I hugged myself. The room felt different now, as if his presence had shifted something I couldn’t quite name.

I should be glad.

I should be grateful he was gone, that I wasn’t waking up to danger looming over me. But instead, all I could do was stand there, staring at the open window, haunted by the feeling that this wasn’t the end.

That somehow, despite every ounce of logic screaming otherwise—

I hadn’t seen the last of him.

I forced myself to move, shaking off the lingering dread clinging to my skin. My body ached, exhaustion still weighing me down, but I needed a shower.

The bathroom was small, just a narrow space with a sink, a toilet, and an old clawfoot tub with a showerhead mounted above it. I twisted the faucet, waiting as the pipes groaned before releasing a steady stream of hot water. Steam curled around me as I peeled off my clothes, shivering despite the warmth.

Stepping under the spray, I let the water cascade over me, washing away the tension knotting my muscles. The heat seeped into my skin, loosening the stiffness in my shoulders. I pressed my palms against the cool tiles, exhaling slowly.

Last night replayed in my mind—the way he had appeared out of nowhere, bleeding and barely conscious. The way I had helped him, despite every ounce of common sense telling me not to.

I ran a hand down my face. What was I thinking?

He could’ve killed me.

And yet, I hadn’t felt fear—not exactly. Wariness, yes. Uncertainty. But there had been something else too, something unsettling.

I shut off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it tightly around myself. The mirror was fogged over, my reflection a hazy blur. Wiping my hand across the glass, I met my own eyes.

Tired. Unsteady. A little lost.

I turned away and got dressed, pulling on fresh clothes before stepping back into the bedroom. The open window drew my attention again, a sharp reminder of last night’s chaos.

I needed to get it fixed.

Grabbing my phone, I searched for a repair service, my fingers unsteady as I dialed the number. The call rang twice before a gruff voice answered.

“Yeah?”

“Hi, I need someone to repair a broken window. It’s urgent.”

“Address?”

I rattled it off, chewing the inside of my cheek.

“Someone will be there in an hour.”

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone, exhaling.

An hour. That was enough time to push last night aside, to pretend this was just a normal morning.

But deep down, I knew—

Nothing about this was normal anymore.

I dragged a hand through my damp hair, shaking off the last remnants of unease. The clock on the nightstand read 7:42 AM—too early to dwell on the what-ifs circling in my head. I needed something normal, something routine.

Breakfast.

Padding over to the tiny kitchenette in the corner of the room, I opened the mini fridge, scanning its limited contents. A carton of eggs, half a loaf of bread, a stick of butter, and some orange juice. Simple, but it would do.

I set a pan on the stovetop, letting the butter melt as I cracked two eggs into it. The quiet sizzle filled the space, a comforting sound against the weight of last night. Toast went into the small pop-up toaster, and as I stood there, flipping the eggs, I focused on the rhythmic motions—the scrape of the spatula, the soft pop of the toast, the citrusy scent of fresh orange juice filling the air.

For a few minutes, it felt normal.

I sat at the small wooden table by the window, cutting into my eggs, chewing slowly as I tried to convince myself that today would be just another day. No strange men bleeding out in my room. No lingering paranoia. Just me, my breakfast, and the sound of the city waking up beyond the glass.

Then—

A sharp knock at the door.

I set my fork down, swallowing the bite I’d just taken. The repairman. Right on time.

Rising from my seat, I wiped my hands on a napkin and made my way to the door. Through the peephole, I saw a man in his late fifties, dressed in a navy-blue work jacket with a toolbox in one hand. His expression was neutral, bored even, like this was just another job on his list.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“You called for a window repair?” His voice was gruff, businesslike.

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s in the bedroom. This way.”

He followed me inside, his boots thudding against the wooden floor as I led him to the damaged window.

He let out a low whistle. “That’s a nasty break. What happened?”

I hesitated. “Someone threw something at it.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

He didn’t press. Instead, he knelt down, inspecting the cracks along the pane. “Glass is loose. You’re lucky it didn’t shatter completely. I’ll have to replace the whole thing.”

“How long will it take?”

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour.” He set his toolbox down with a heavy clunk. “I’ll get started.”

I nodded and stepped back, watching as he began removing the broken glass with practiced efficiency.

As the repairman worked, the rhythmic sound of tools scraping against the window frame filled the room, but my attention kept drifting elsewhere. My gaze lingered on the space near the wall—the very spot where he had sat, his body heavy with exhaustion, his dark eyes watching me with an unreadable expression.

The bed was neatly made, the blankets undisturbed, yet I could still picture him there. The faint imprint of his presence lingered in the air like a ghost of the night before, refusing to fade with the morning light.

It was unsettling how quickly reality had shifted. Hours ago, he had been here—breathing, bleeding, alive. Now, there was nothing but silence, as if he had never existed at all.

And yet, I could still feel him.

A whisper of warmth where he had been. A phantom weight in the space he had occupied.

His presence.

The repairman straightened with a satisfied nod, wiping his hands on a rag. “That should hold up just fine,” he said, stepping back to inspect his work. “Replaced the glass, reinforced the frame. If you ever need more repairs, just give me a call.”

I forced a small smile, reaching for my purse. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

He rattled off the price, and I handed him the cash, my fingers slightly unsteady. As he counted the bills, I caught myself glancing at the newly fixed window. The jagged edges of broken glass were gone, but I could still picture the way they had gleamed under the moonlight when I first saw the damage.

The repairman tucked the money into his pocket and gathered his tools. “You take care now, miss.”

I nodded. “You too.”

With that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone again, I exhaled slowly, rubbing my arms as I turned back to the empty space in the room. The logical part of me knew that the stranger from last night was long gone.

And yet… I still couldn’t shake the feeling that some part of him had never left.

Back to New Orleans

Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App

Related chapters

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    Chapter 4: A Month Later

    New Orleans Mia Cruz jolted awake at the sound of her alarm shrieking through the silence. With a groggy groan, she slapped at her phone, missing twice before finally silencing it. Blinking against the early morning light filtering through her curtains, she forced herself upright. Her body protested, every muscle stiff from the awkward way she had slept. She hadn’t even changed out of yesterday’s clothes. Again. Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and checked the time. 8:15 AM. Her heart lurched. “Shit!” She was late. Again. Got it! Here’s the revised version with her blonde straight hair: ⸻ Bolting from the bed, Mia yanked off her wrinkled dress and sprinted into the bathroom, her bare feet slapping against the cold tiled floor. A sharp chill raced up her spine, but she ignored it, twisting the shower knob on full blast. Lukewarm water cascaded down, shocking her system awake as she stepped under the spray. She worked quickly, grabbing her shampo

    Last Updated : 2025-03-20
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    Chapter 5: The Big Day

    Mia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling long before her alarm blared through the quiet room. Sleep had evaded her for most of the night, leaving her tangled in a mess of sheets and nerves. Her thoughts had refused to settle, replaying every possible scenario of her presentation like a never-ending reel. She imagined herself stammering, forgetting key points, or—God forbid—completely blanking in front of Marco Valentino.When the alarm finally shrilled at 6:30 AM, she flinched but didn’t bother reaching for it. She had been awake for the last half-hour, counting down the minutes in the dim morning light. With a deep breath, she turned it off, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat there for a moment, her heart thudding against her ribs.You’ve got this. Just get through today.She forced herself to stand and padded to the bathroom, shivering as her bare feet met the cold tiles. Turning on the shower, she let the water heat up before stepping in, sighing as the warmth seeped in

    Last Updated : 2025-03-21
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 6: Face to Face

    Mia took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the file as she stepped forward. Her heart pounded a relentless rhythm against her ribs, the weight of anticipation pressing down on her chest like an iron vice. The hallway leading to the conference room had never felt so long, each step echoing in her ears, amplifying the anxious storm brewing inside her. She could feel the weight of her own thoughts, spiraling through worst-case scenarios. What if I forget my key points? What if I stutter? What if Valentino dismisses me before I even finish my first sentence? Her grip tightened around the file. No. Focus. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to exude the same level of confidence as the other executives who strolled these halls like they owned the world. She straightened her blouse, smoothing the fabric over her waist as though it could also iron out the nervous energy thrumming through her veins. The closer she got to the conference room, the louder the murmur of conversation

    Last Updated : 2025-03-27
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 7: The past never stays Buried

    The conference room door clicked shut behind her, but Mia barely heard it over the pounding of her own heartbeat. The moment the presentation ended, she had slipped out, needing a moment to gather herself. She had done it—delivered her pitch with poise, answered every question with confidence. But none of that mattered. Because the entire time, she had felt his eyes on her. Marco Valentino. The man who now stood at the center of her world in ways she couldn’t understand. The same man who, for the briefest second during the presentation, had looked at her like he knew her—like he was peeling back layers of time, trying to place her in a memory just out of reach. She exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her chest. It was just business. That was all. Yet, deep down, she knew that was a lie. Mia barely had time to steady her breathing before her boss’s voice rang out behind her. “Miss Cruz.” She turned sharply, her pulse still erratic, to see Mr. Gravitas standing in th

    Last Updated : 2025-03-28
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 8: The Reckoning

    The scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee filled the bookstore, wrapping Mia in a familiar comfort. Sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden shelves stacked with stories waiting to be discovered. It was a quiet Saturday morning, the kind she usually cherished. But not today. Today, she was on edge. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted a row of hardcovers, pretending to be engrossed in her task. She had been doing this all morning—straightening books, reorganizing displays, making small talk with Chloe—all in an effort to ignore the gnawing unease in her stomach. Because he was coming. Marco Valentino. She swallowed hard, sneaking a glance at the clock hanging above the counter. 10:02 AM. He hadn’t given her a specific time, but she knew he would show up whenever he pleased. That was the kind of man he was. The bell above the door jingled, and her breath caught. She turned, pulse hammering, only to find an elder

    Last Updated : 2025-03-28
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 9: Cafe

    MIA CRUZI took a deep breath before stepping out of the storeroom, my hands tightening around the book samples. I had only been in there for a few minutes, but it had been enough to gather myself—or so I thought.The moment I looked up, my stomach did a ridiculous flip.Marco was still there.He leaned casually against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with an amused expression. His dark eyes held a knowing glint, like he could see right through me.“You sure took your time,” he mused.I forced a small laugh, shifting the samples in my grip. “Just… making sure I got the right books.”He hummed as if he didn’t believe me but didn’t push. Instead, he straightened, his gaze settling on me in a way that made my skin prickle.“So,” he said smoothly, “since I’m already here, how about we grab a coffee? You must have a lot of questions.”Coffee?I blinked, caught

    Last Updated : 2025-03-28
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 10: Into the fire

    MIA CRUZ The blaring of my alarm jolted me awake, dragging me out of a restless sleep. I groaned, rolling over and slamming the snooze button before burying my face in my pillow. Just five more minutes. Except five minutes turned into ten, and by the time I finally forced myself up, the sun was already peeking through my window, casting a warm glow across my room. Sunday. The realization hit me fully, sending a jolt of awareness through my still-sleepy mind. I was meeting Marco today. At his house. I shook off the nerves creeping in and stretched, rubbing my eyes before dragging myself out of bed. My feet padded across the cool wooden floor as I made my way to the bathroom. A splash of cold water to my face did wonders in shaking off the last remnants of sleep. I brushed my teeth, letting my mind wander as I moved through my morning routine—washing my face, tying my blonde hair into a loose bun, and stepping into the shower. The hot water loosened the tension in my should

    Last Updated : 2025-03-29
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 11: The invitation

    The grand foyer stretched before me, a masterpiece of timeless elegance and quiet opulence. The floors were polished marble, smooth and gleaming beneath my feet, reflecting the soft glow of the golden chandelier hanging above. High ceilings made the space feel impossibly vast, and intricate crown moldings framed the room with refined detail. A sweeping staircase curved to the second floor, its railing carved from dark mahogany, polished to perfection. The scent of leather, wood, and something distinctly Marco—masculine and expensive—filled the air. I took a slow breath, trying not to seem too affected by the sheer grandeur surrounding me. This wasn’t just wealth. It was power, woven into every inch of the space. Marco shut the door behind me, the quiet click echoing in the vast room. I felt his presence at my back, close but not touching. “Come on,” he said smoothly, walking ahead. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.” I followed him through the open archway that led into a

    Last Updated : 2025-03-29

Latest chapter

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 30: Smoke in the Silence

    Dave’s POVThe whisky burned his throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his chest.He hadn’t touched a drink in years, but after what happened at the library, self-control felt like a joke.He paced his apartment like a caged animal, heart thudding in his ears. The moment Mia turned and saw Marco, something in her face shifted. Relief. Like she’d been rescued.From him.“She made me believe…” he muttered, gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white. “All those late-night book talks. The way she laughed when I told her she was the only one who actually got me…”He grabbed the glass again and downed the last of it, staring into the empty bookshelf across the room. It used to be filled. Now, only a few titles remained—ones he couldn’t bear to part with. Her favorites.“I was there for her. Not him.” His voice cracked. “I listened. I cared.”But none of it mattered now. Because Mia had chosen Marco. The billionaire. The threat.Dave’s hands curled into fist

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 29: Shadows Between the Shelves

    Mia’s POVThe sky had long darkened, and the golden hues of dusk gave way to deep indigo. Inside the bookstore, the soft lamplight cast a cozy, flickering glow on the wood-paneled walls. It smelled like old paper, fresh espresso, and cinnamon muffins—the comforting signature scent of Chapters & Coffee.Marco.He just stood there, the city lights reflecting off his dark coat, hair tousled like he’d run a hand through it a dozen times. There was something almost wild in his eyes. Not violent—just intense. Caged. Like he was battling something inside him that didn’t want to stay quiet anymore.My mom, bless her timing, gave him a suspicious once-over from behind the counter before murmuring, “I’ll be back in ten. We’re out of milk.” She gave me a tight smile—one that said we’re going to talk about this later—then slipped out the door.The air shifted. The moment she left, it felt like the entire store sighed into stillness.Marco moved closer, hands in his coat pockets, his gaze never le

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 28: Chapters, Coffee, and Confessions

    Marco’s POVThe sun had dipped behind the skyline, casting the city in a gold-tinged gloom as I watched from the driver’s seat of the black Aston Martin. The hum of the engine had gone cold. I hadn’t moved in nearly twenty minutes. Not since she walked out of that glass building—Luxe Visions—like she was carrying a thousand invisible bricks on her back.Mia Cruz.The woman who made me question every rule I’d lived by, every line I’d drawn to keep people out.Her shoulders were tense beneath the tailored beige coat she wore, the collar flipped up like armor against the late evening chill. Her steps weren’t rushed, but they weren’t steady either. Each one looked like she had to convince herself to take it. I watched as she paused at the corner, her head tilting toward the sky for just a second like she needed to remind herself how to breathe.She didn’t see me.Didn’t know I’d been here since noon—since just after I left her standing in that diner, after I told her I couldn’t walk away

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 27: Unspoken Tensions

    Mia’s POVThe bus stop was quieter than usual, just the low hum of the city waking up around me. I pulled my coat tighter against the chill, wishing it could somehow shield me from the thoughts that kept circling my mind like vultures. Marco Valentino wasn’t supposed to be a part of my life—he wasn’t supposed to be anything at all. And yet, here I was, thinking about him when I should be focused on the day ahead.I stepped onto the bus when it pulled up, the scent of fresh coffee and early morning newspaper clippings mingling with the stale air of the crowded ride. I grabbed a seat near the back, hoping for a quiet ride before the chaos of work took over.The bus jerked to a stop as we hit traffic, and I glanced over to see Dave standing in the aisle. His tall frame loomed just behind a man in a dark suit, his posture stiff. He caught my gaze, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. But then his face softened, like he was trying to be

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 26: Normal day, normal life

    Marco’s POVShe had no idea what she was doing to him.No fucking idea.Marco sat alone in his penthouse, lights dim, a glass of whiskey untouched in his hand, staring out at the city that knelt beneath his feet like it belonged to him.Because it did.Everything he wanted, he took.Everything he desired, he owned.Everything he touched, he marked.That was the world of Marco Valentino.Until her.Until Mia.The little waitress with fire in her eyes and a softness in her soul that made him feel…Unsteady.Off-balance.Human.And God, he hated feeling human.He wasn’t supposed to want someone like her. Sweet. Uncomplicated. Broke. Ordinary.But ordinary had never looked so fucking beautiful.Ordinary had never smiled at him like she had — without fear. Without expectation.Mia was the first woman in his entire cursed existence who didn’t want anything from him… except maybe for him to leave her alone.But it was too late for that.Way too fucking late.He’d crossed the line the moment

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 25: Part of Your world

    Mia barely heard a word Dave was saying.Her mind was still stuck in him.Marco Valentino.That look in his eyes.Those words.Mine.She shivered — except it wasn’t from the cold.It was from the way her body remembered the heat of his presence even after he was gone.Get a grip, Mia.Dave was still rambling awkwardly beside her, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was about to get whacked in broad daylight.“…seriously, Mia. That guy’s intense. Like, mafia movie final boss level intense.”She almost laughed.If only he knew.But all she managed was a small, exhausted smile.“I’m fine, Dave.”“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure he wanted to rip my head off.”Mia sighed. “He didn’t.”“Not yet,” Dave mumbled under his breath.That actually made her chuckle.Soft. Tired. But real.Her feet ached from standing so long, her head throbbed from everything that just happened, and the idea of squeezing herself into an overcrowded bus after surviving Marco Valentino felt

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 24: Jealousy Has A Name

    The rain had picked up again, soft droplets clinging to the diner windows, turning the world outside into a blurry haze. Inside, the lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a warm glow on the silver table where Mia sat, nervously tracing the rim of her glass.Dave was talking — about books, about some ridiculous historical fact that normally would’ve had her full attention — but tonight, her mind was elsewhere.Marco.Her phone sat in her lap, buzzing occasionally like it was mocking her.I’m on my way to the diner.Her heart skipped for the hundredth time.Was he serious? Would he really show up here?“Mia,” Dave’s voice broke through her thoughts, softer this time. Almost careful. “You’re somewhere else tonight.”She blinked, forcing a weak smile. “Sorry. Just… distracted.”Dave gave a short chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His eyes flickered down to her phone like he already knew exactly who was distracting her.“That friend of yours?” His tone was light — but God, the bite b

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 23: Unspoken Intentions

    Mia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped into her bedroom. As much as she wanted to linger in the quiet morning with Marco, today was still a workday. Reality was waiting.She pulled open her wardrobe, grabbing a fresh outfit. Behind her, she could hear Marco moving around the living room.By the time she emerged, dressed in a fitted blouse and tailored pants, he was standing by the window, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low and steady as he spoke.“Come back now,” he told the driver. A brief pause. Then, “Yeah, the rain’s lighter. Just be careful.”Mia glanced outside. The heavy storm had passed, leaving behind a soft drizzle. The streets glistened under the muted morning light, damp but no longer flooded.Marco ended the call and turned toward her, his sharp gaze raking over her appearance. Something flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t comment.“You’re heading to work,” he stated rather than ask

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 22: The Tension We Can’t Escape

    Mia woke to the soft patter of rain against the window, the storm from last night reduced to a gentle drizzle. For a moment, she stayed still, letting the warmth of the bed and the steady rhythm of Marco’s breathing beside her keep her grounded.Then it hit her—Marco was still here.Her eyes flickered open, and the first thing she saw was him. He lay on his side, one arm resting beneath his head, the other draped loosely over the duvet. His face, usually hardened with intensity, was relaxed in sleep. The sharp angles of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the slow rise and fall of his chest—it was a side of him she’d never seen before.A flutter stirred in her stomach.Carefully, she shifted, trying not to wake him. But as soon as she moved, his eyes cracked open, dark and unreadable.For a second, they just stared at each other.Then his lips twitched. “You’re watching me, little mouse.”Heat rushed to her chee

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status