THE MAFIA KING BROKEN ROSE novel Chapter 109

Chapter 109

The building hadn’t changed.

Same chipped bricks.

Same uneven porch step that Carmen used to trip over after too many shots. Same door with the faded brass knocker shaped like a lion’s head.

I stood there for a second, just staring. Wondering if she still lived here.

If I was about to knock on a stranger’s door and feel stupid for hoping someone from my old life hadn’t moved on.

I raised my hand and knocked twice.

The door opened seconds later.

And there she was.

Carmen.

Her curls were even messier than I remembered, tied up in that chaotic bun she never bothered to fix. She wore an oversized t–shirt with something ridiculous printed across it probably stolen from an ex and pajama shorts with rabbits them.

She blinked at me once. Twice.

Then her jaw dropped.

“Aria?”

I smiled, just barely. “Hey.”

She stepped forward like she was seeing a ghost. “You…God, you’re…free?”

“Not really,” I said, stepping in. “Just for a little time.”

She pulled me into a tight hug before I could say anything else. Her arms were warm and familiar, and for a second, I nea cried right there on her porch.

“You’re glowing,” she said when she pulled back. “Like, literally. You look… alive.”

I scoffed softly. “With cancer. Really.”

“Don’t ruin the compliment,” she said, laughing gently, stepping aside. “Come in.”

The smell of mint and cinnamon hit me the moment I crossed the threshold. She closed the door behind us and peeked through the curtains like someone in a spy movie.

“Should I lock the windows too?” she asked playfully.

I laughed, really laughed for the first time in a long while. “It’s safe. For now.”

Her apartment was the same disaster of warmth and chaos it always was,plants she never watered, mugs on bookshelve candles that burned halfway then got forgotten. But it was home.

Better than the cold sterile home with Dominic.

“I was just making our favorite tea,” she said brightly. “Still like that ridiculous lavender–honey nonsense?”

I nodded, taking a seat on the old brown couch that used to creak under the weight of our late–night crying sessions and post–breakup movie marathons.

Carmen had been my friend since we were fifteen.

We met in the stupidest way fighting over the last hoodie on clearance at a downtown thrift store. She won, but gave it to me anyway when she saw I was crying. Over a boy, over my parents, over life I don’t even remember now. But she handed me that hoodie and said, “You look like you need something soft right now.”

She never left after that.

She was the one who gave me my first bottle of hair dye. Who held my hand when my mom first got sick. Who pulled me off the bathroom floor after my diagnosis and said, “You’re still you. Sick or not.”

And now, she was the first person I wanted to see. Because she didn’t treat me like property, or pity, or a pawn. Just… Aria.

Successfully unlocked!

other.

She brought over the mugs and plopped besid Then she turned to face me, her eyes soft. Serious.

“Talk to me, love,” she said. “How is everything?”

I didn’t want to cry.

1/3

Chapter 109

But how could I not?

That question how was everything?

Like where do I even start?

My lips parted, but nothing came out. My chest rose once, then again, and it all hit me at once.

“I lost my parents,” I whispered. “Except they weren’t even really my parents. Not by blood. And now they’re gone. Dead. Buried. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye the right way.”

Carmen didn’t say anything. She just reached for me and pulled me into her arms.

And that was it.

I broke.

My body folded against hers, my arms clinging tightly as I cried into her shoulder. Ugly, raw tears. The kind that left you breathless.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I choked. “They weren’t my parents. They lied to me my whole life and then died before I could ask why.”

She rubbed my back gently, her voice quiet. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sick,” I added. “Still sick. The treatments are wearing me down, and I keep thinking… what if this is all I have left? This… this mess of secrets and men who want to control me like I’m some pawn in a game I didn’t even agree to play?”

She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t tell me it would be okay.

She just listened.

“There’s Dominic,” I whispered, voice breaking. “And I think I like him, Carmen. I like him, and I don’t know if he even cares about me. Maybe I’m just a toy to him. Something to protect one day and own the next. I can’t tell where the protection ends and the control begins. He gave me a necklace with a tracker in it. A fucking tracker.”

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