★★Mariella's POV★★



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*Hours Earlier*

As I blow-dry my hair, I glance at the phone screen, my eyes catching the message from Leon. He'd sent a link with a single line of text: "Take a look at this."

A quick glance at the file name tells me it's my mother's. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I grab my makeup kit and get to work, trying to distract myself from the feeling that something is wrong. But even as I finish my makeup and head to my office, I can't shake the urgency gnawing at me.

The office feels colder than usual, and I can hear the distant hum of the city outside. Sitting down at my desk, I plug in the hard drive, the little device whirring to life as it syncs with my computer. The file is already there, waiting for me. I'm not sure why I'm nervous. It's just information. But somehow, I know it's more than that.

The moment the file begins downloading, I feel a tightening in my chest. What am I about to uncover?

When it's finished, I open the document, the words practically jumping off the screen. I've seen this before. Names. Dates. But there's something different this time—something that feels too close to home.

My hands tremble slightly as I scroll through the endless list of names, organizations, and operations. Words like "human trafficking" and "victims" catch my eye, but I can't process them just yet. It's as if the document itself is too heavy, too damning for me to fully comprehend.

Then, a name stands out. Theodoros Zervos.

My heart skips a beat. The name is too familiar, but from where? My mind drifts back to when I was younger. My parents would often speak in the study room, voices low and serious, but I'd always find a way to sneak eavesdrop.

Theodoros Zervos.

That name was always mentioned in hushed tones, as though it carried weight. I remember my father talking about Theo being a good friend—trusted, important. I never thought much of it back then.

Then, I remember an event at the family mansion. I was young, only around eight or nine, but the image is still fresh in my mind. Theo had been... too friendly with my mother. The way he'd touched her arm, whispered in her ear, and the way she'd forced a smile, her eyes flickering with discomfort. At the time, I didn't understand it. It felt wrong, but I didn't know why. I never said anything.

But now? Now, it makes sense. The dots are connecting, the pieces fitting together in a way I never expected.

I scroll further, my glasses hanging from my fingertips as I carefully read the file. The more I read, the more I realize the truth. My mother wasn't just a victim of some random crime. She was in the middle of something far darker—far more dangerous than I ever imagined. She had been trafficked. She was one of them.

A knot forms in my stomach, tightening with each word. How could I not have known?

My hands shake, but I force myself to keep reading. The document isn't just about my mother. It's about an operation that spanned continents, about people like Theo and his connections. There's no way my mother was an innocent bystander in all this. She must have known, too, somehow, someway. But to what extent?

I close my eyes, trying to steady my breath. The truth is too much. I don't know how to handle this. My own mother—trafficked. Used. Exploited. And Theo? A monster hiding in plain sight.

The implications are terrifying, but what terrifies me more is the realization that this is just the beginning.

I sit back in my chair, staring at the screen, the weight of the file sinking in. I have to do something about this.

But what? How?

The air on the balcony feels cold against my skin, the fog swirling around the towering buildings like a veil, shrouding everything below. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I dial Eliseo's number. My hands are still shaking, the weight of the file—of the truth—pressing heavily on my chest.

I can feel the anxiety building up, but there's no time to waste. I need answers.

The phone rings, and I pace, the sound of the city below muffled by the thick fog that surrounds me. Finally, his voice crackles through the line.

"Eliseo," I say, my voice tight but controlled. "I need you to dig into something for me. It's urgent."

"Of course," Eliseo replies, his voice always steady, always calm. I can hear the tapping of keys in the background—he's always working. "What do you need?"

I swallow hard, trying to focus. "I need information on my mother. You need to look into Theodoros Zervos, his connections, and anything he had to do with her. I have reason to believe she was involved in something... something darker than I thought. Trafficking."

There's a long silence on the other end of the line. I know Eliseo is processing everything. He's not the type to ask questions—he just gets to work.

"Trafficking?" Eliseo finally asks, his voice low, with an edge of disbelief. "Your mother?"

"Yes," I reply quickly, "and I think Zervos was involved. I remember him being mentioned when I was younger. My father used to talk about him... I never thought much of it at the time, but now—" I pause, biting my lip, the truth still too heavy to fully grasp. "Now it all makes sense. She was a part of something, Eliseo. I can feel it. I need to know everything. No matter how bad it is."

I hear a soft click as Eliseo brings up the file, the sound of him digging into the depths of the system. "Give me a moment, Mariella. I'll search for connections to Zervos and your mother."

The seconds feel like minutes. I walk back and forth across the balcony, trying to calm my racing thoughts, trying to steady the rapid beat of my heart.

"Got it," Eliseo says after what feels like an eternity. "There's a trail here. Zervos has been in and out of several high-profile criminal circles, including human trafficking rings. His name pops up in several reports from the early 2000s. Around the time your mother went off the grid."

I stop pacing, the words settling over me like a weight. "He was connected to her during that time?"

Eliseo doesn't hesitate. "Yes. In fact, there are reports of Zervos being close with your mother... too close. He used his influence to gain access to several high-class trafficking operations. It wasn't just about money, Mariella. He had plans for her."

I feel a chill run down my spine. "What kind of plans?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Eliseo's tone is grave, his words measured. "There's a document I found that indicates your mother wasn't just a victim—she was an asset. Zervos had a particular interest in her. She was likely part of a leverage game with him and others, and her role in the operation wasn't passive. Your mother's connections with men like Zervos—men with power and influence—were used as a bargaining chip."

I take a shaky breath. This is worse than I imagined. My own mother—used as a pawn. But it doesn't explain everything. "So, what happened to her? Why wasn't she found? Why did she vanish?"

"There's a theory..." Eliseo continues, his voice lowering. "It's hard to confirm, but from what I'm seeing, it seems she tried to get out. She was tangled up in something much bigger than any of us realized. Zervos and his associates didn't want her leaving. They... they didn't just traffic her, Mariella. They wanted her under their control. There were whispers of threats against your family, people she trusted."

I grit my teeth, anger surging through me. "So, my mother tried to escape? She tried to get out of this nightmare, and they dragged her back in?"

"Yes," Eliseo confirms. "She might have left, but they made sure she didn't get far. And there's something more, Mariella. Zervos isn't just some criminal mastermind hiding in the shadows. He's connected to something much bigger. There are ties to your father's business. Your family's name... it's been a part of something dark for years."

I stagger back, my head spinning as I try to process everything. "My father? All of this... my mother... was he involved?"

"Eliseo pauses for a moment, and I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. "It's complicated. The documents don't give a clear answer, but there's enough to suggest that your family's wealth and power were connected to these operations in some way. Not in the way you think, but in a way that benefited both sides."

My chest tightens. The betrayal runs deeper than I could have imagined. My family—my father—were involved in this darkness. It's like I've been living in a lie all my life, thinking they were untouchable, but now...

"I need everything you've got, Eliseo," I say through gritted teeth. "Everything about Zervos. Every connection. And especially about my mother."

"I'll send it over as soon as I can, Mariella. Just stay safe. Zervos isn't someone you want to go up against alone."

I can feel the weight of his words, the warning sinking deep. "I know. I'm not alone."

After a beat of silence, I hang up the phone, staring at the skyline. There's so much I don't know. So much I need to figure out.

But one thing is clear now. Zervos will pay. And I'll make sure of it.

The cool air bites at my skin as I hang up the phone, the weight of Eliseo's words still heavy in my mind. I lean against the railing, staring out into the thick fog that blankets the streets below. The city is swallowed by the haze, the buildings lost in the mist like towering shadows. It feels as if I'm living in the clouds, disconnected from everything, but still suffocated by it all.

My heart is thumping wildly in my chest as I try to steady my breath. Why does everything always have to be so damn complicated? One thing after another—just when I think I can breathe, something else comes crashing down.

The fog feels suffocating, and I grip the railing harder, trying to focus on something—anything. But then I hear it. A voice from inside the house.

I stand up straight, my body tensing. I spin on my heel, instinct kicking in, and my hand moves to the knife tucked behind my back. My grip is steady as I creep toward the sliding doors, listening for any further movement. The house feels eerily still, but something's off.

I peer through the glass, scanning the room beyond, trying to catch any hint of movement. My heart skips a beat. I don't hear Leon's voice, so it couldn't be him. My mind races, my thoughts already spinning in a thousand directions.

With every step, I become more alert, my senses sharpening. I carefully close the sliding door behind me and continue through the house, staying low to the ground, making sure my heels don't echo on the floor. The tension in my body coils with each soft step, each creak of the floorboard beneath me.

Then, I hear it—typing. Fast and frantic. Someone's in my office.

I freeze, my pulse quickening. No one should be in there, especially not without me knowing. I reach behind me, holding the knife with deadly precision, ready to throw it at whatever threat lurks ahead. I position myself, watching the door to the office, waiting for the perfect moment.

But then—just as I'm about to launch my attack—I freeze. I hear the unmistakable sound of voices.

"Enzo?"

"Santino?"

I whisper their names, but I don't move. I wait, tense, as I lean closer to the door.

Then I hear it. Their voices.

As soon as I step into my office, the room is charged with tension. My heart is already hammering in my chest as I see Enzo and Santino standing in front of the computer, staring at the screen in shock. Their faces are pale, the color drained from their skin as if they've seen a ghost.

Enzo's eyes flicker up to meet mine, his face tight with disbelief. Santino doesn't even look at me, his gaze still fixed on the screen, his body frozen, rigid with shock.

"What... what is this?" I ask, my voice betraying the uncertainty bubbling in my chest.

Enzo doesn't answer at first. His fingers hover over the keyboard, as though he can't quite believe what he's seeing. His voice is low, barely audible. "You—You kept this from us. You... you lied to us, Mariella."

I feel a coldness creep over me, but I push it aside. "What are you talking about?" I step forward, but Enzo holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

"This is the file, isn't it?" he says, his voice trembling with anger. "The file about our mother. The one you've been hiding from us all this time."

Santino finally looks up, his eyes blazing with fury. His voice cracks as he says, "You let us believe she was killed by some random drunk men. You lied to us... you kept everything hidden."

My throat tightens. The words feel like knives, each one digging deeper into my chest. I want to explain, to tell them everything, but the look on their faces—disappointment, betrayal—it makes the words catch in my throat.

Enzo slams his hand down on the desk, making me jump. "Why, Mariella? Why did you keep this from us? How could you lie to us like this? How could you... how could you let us think our mother was just some random victim?"

"I—" I try to speak, but my voice falters. I take a shaky breath, my hands trembling. "I didn't want to hurt you. I— I didn't want you to know the truth. It was complicated, Enzo. It was too much. I thought if I kept it from you... it would be easier."

Enzo glares at me, his eyes burning with anger. "Easier?" His voice rises, sharp and full of venom. "Easier for who? For you? You think this was easier? You think we could just move on after you lied to us for all these years?"

Santino steps forward, his face red with frustration. "You're sick, Mariella. You disgust me." His voice is raw with emotion, like he can't even comprehend what he's just read. "How could you keep something like this from us? You knew what happened to her. You knew everything and kept us in the dark. You've been lying to us our whole lives."

"I didn't—" I start to explain again, but Enzo cuts me off, his voice a roar of frustration.

"Shut up!" he yells, his face contorted in rage. "Just shut up, Mariella! I can't believe I ever trusted you. You're a liar! A fucking liar!" His words hit me like a slap, each one landing harder than the last.

My chest tightens as I feel my eyes well up with tears. This wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't want them to hate me. I didn't want them to feel this way, but there was no way I could undo the years of silence. No way I could fix the hurt I've caused.

Santino's voice is full of disgust. "You should have told us, Mariella. You should have trusted us. But instead, you let us go on, thinking that we were just some fucking accident in our mother's life."

My heart shatters at his words. I never wanted to hurt them. Never wanted to keep the truth from them, but I was so damn scared. Scared of what they'd think, scared of what this would do to us.

"I was trying to protect you," I whisper, my voice trembling. "I thought— I thought this was the only way to keep us together. To keep us... safe."

But Enzo's eyes are full of nothing but disgust now. "Protect us? You didn't protect us, Mariella. You ruined us. You kept us in the dark about the one thing that could have made us understand her... understand ourselves. You've been lying to us this entire time. And now, everything we thought we knew about our family, about our mother, is shattered. All because you couldn't be honest."

Enzo's eyes are filled with fury, but there's something deeper in his gaze—something that makes me feel like I've betrayed him in the worst way. His voice cracks as he snarls, and I can feel the anger radiating off of him.

"You knew this entire time, didn't you? About her. About what really happened to her. You've been hiding the truth from us." His words are like daggers, each one cutting deeper.

My chest tightens, and my throat closes up. I open my mouth, but no words come out. I feel the weight of everything crashing down on me.

Enzo paces, his jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides. "You think you can just keep this from us, Mariella? Keep us in the dark for the rest of our lives? Do you honestly believe we wouldn't find out? We're family!" He stops in front of me, his voice sharp with anger. "Dad's going to find out, Mariella. And when he does, do you think he'll forgive you? Do you think he'll let you get away with this?"

I shake my head, panic seizing my chest. I can't let this happen. I can't let him tell our father.

"Enzo, please," I whisper, but he cuts me off.

"No," he snaps, his voice cold and final. "You're going to tell him. You're going to tell him what you've been hiding. If you don't, I swear to God, I'll make sure he knows. You've been playing him for a fool long enough."

I stand there, paralyzed by his words. He's right. I have been playing everyone for a fool. I can't escape it. The truth is out now, and no matter how much I want to hide from it, I can't.

Enzo steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. "I knew something was off. I knew you were hiding something from us. Your trips to Japan... the way you'd disappear for days, weeks at a time... You think I didn't notice? I saw it, Mariella. And now, it all makes sense. You've been hiding the truth about our mother's death this whole time."

His words hang in the air like a cloud of smoke, thick and suffocating. The truth that I've been running from, the secret I've kept buried deep inside, is finally coming to light, and I can't stop it.

"I... I didn't know how to tell you," I choke out, my voice breaking as I fight to keep it steady. "I didn't know how to make you understand. It wasn't just her secret, it was mine too. I was trying to protect you. I thought if you didn't know, it would keep you safe."

Enzo looks at me, his face hardening with disgust. "Safe? You think lying to us for all these years kept us safe? No, Mariella. It kept us in the dark. It kept us from the truth. And now, look where we are." He turns away from me, pacing again. "This was always going to come out. I just didn't think it would be you—my sister, my blood—who kept this from us. I never thought I'd have to hear it from you."

I stand there, my heart sinking with each word he says, each one a reminder of how far I've fallen. The truth is too much for him, too much for all of us, and there's no going back. Enzo's voice drops, tinged with a sadness that makes my heart break.

"You should've told us, Mariella. You should've trusted us. But now... now you've lost us. You've lost everything. You can't hide from this anymore."

I feel the tears welling up in my eyes again, but I don't move. I just stand there, knowing that whatever I say next won't fix this. Nothing can fix this.

"You're going to tell Dad. You're going to tell him the truth," Enzo says coldly. "And if you don't, I'll make sure he knows. I'll make sure he understands just how long you've been lying to him, to all of us."

I want to protest. I want to scream that I didn't want this to happen, that I was just trying to protect everyone. But the words are trapped in my throat, and all I can do is stand there and watch my brother—my own flesh and blood—look at me like I'm some stranger. Like I'm someone who's betrayed him beyond repair.

Santino's voice, though softer than Enzo's, cuts through the silence. "I don't even know who you are anymore, Mariella." His words hit like a slap, and I wince as the weight of his disappointment settles over me.

I want to tell him, to make them understand. I want to explain how I've been carrying this burden for so long, how I've been drowning in guilt. But right now, there's no way to make them see. There's no way to fix what I've done.

Enzo's face twists with anger, and I can see the pain in his eyes. "I'll never forgive you for this," he spits out. "Never."

Tears spill down my face now, and I wipe them away quickly, but it feels like my entire world is crumbling around me. Santino looks away, his fists clenched at his sides, as if he can't even bear to look at me anymore. Enzo takes one last, seething look at me, then turns and storms out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

I stand there, frozen, unable to move, unable to say anything. My brothers are gone, my heart is in pieces, and I realize—too late—that everything I've tried to protect has only caused more damage. The truth, no matter how ugly, was always going to come out. And now I'm the one who has to face the consequences of that truth.

I fall to my knees in the silence of the office, my hands trembling as I touch the desk where the file lies open, the truth of my mother's life—her suffering, her betrayal—spilling across the screen. And I know, for the first time in my life, that I've lost my family.

Everything has changed. And I don't know if there's a way back.

*Present*

The weight of everything pressing down on me is unbearable. Marco's death, Elena's kidnapping, and the truth about my mother—it's all too much. My mind is spinning, and I can feel the panic rising in my chest, but I force it down. I can't let them see me fall apart. Not when everything is hanging in the balance. Not when the people I love are in danger because of me.

I stand there, looking at Leon, feeling the overwhelming urge to fix this, to make it all right. But I know I can't. Not without the right preparation.

Taking a deep breath, I pull back from his embrace, pushing my emotions to the side for now. I can't afford to crumble, not when things are so fragile. I look at Leon, then at Damien and Antoino, and say the only thing that makes sense right now.

"Fine, we'll go to Greece," I say, my voice steady but laced with the weight of everything I've been holding back. "But tomorrow, please," I continue, meeting each of their eyes. "We need time to recollect ourselves, to prepare. For everyone's sake."

They exchange glances, and I see the hesitation in their eyes. But Leon gives me a sharp nod, and I let out a quiet breath of relief. It's enough time—enough time for me to figure out how to get ahead of this, to find a way to turn the tables. They don't have to know that yet.

Damien and Antoino step out of the office, and for a brief moment, I'm alone with Leon. His eyes are filled with concern as he steps toward me, his hand gently resting on my back. "What's wrong, baby?" His voice is soft, but I can feel the weight of his worry behind it.

I try to steady my breathing, to hide the tremor in my voice, but it slips out anyway. "Everything," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Leon doesn't hesitate. He takes my face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. His eyes search mine, trying to anchor me in the storm swirling inside. "You're not alone in this," he says, his voice low and steady. "You hear me? I'm here. I'm not leaving you. Okay? I love you."

His words sink into me, settling in the cracks that have been forming in my heart. He kisses my forehead, and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his touch calm the storm in my chest.

"I know, baby," I whisper, my voice soft but filled with gratitude. His presence, his love—it's all I have left to hold onto right now.

He rubs my back as his head rests on mine, his fingers gentle, grounding me in the moment. I take in a deep breath, trying to find clarity. But there's still that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

This isn't over. Niko won't stop. He never will.

I need to do something. I need to act before it's too late.

I pull away from Leon, the idea forming in my mind. "I'm gonna make some tea for all of us, okay?" I say, offering a weak smile. I need to keep them busy, distracted for a while. I need time.

Leon shakes his head, but before he can protest, I kiss him softly on the lips and brush past him, making my way to the kitchen. As I step away, the wheels in my mind start turning faster.

I can't just let them walk into Greece blind. I can't let them think this is just about getting Elena back. There's more at stake here, and I'm not about to lose them to Niko.

I need a plan—something solid. I'll gather information, track Niko's every move, find a way to make sure they don't walk into a trap. And when the time comes, I'll make sure they're ready.

Tea, for now. But under the surface, I'm already planning. Always two steps ahead. Because in this game, I can't afford to be anything less.

I start the kettle, but my thoughts race ahead. There's so much I need to do. And no matter what, I'll make sure we get through this—together.

The kettle's soft whistle fades into the background as my heart beats louder in my chest. The moment feels almost surreal, as if everything has shifted just slightly out of sync. But I can't afford to second-guess myself now. I slip the vial of Zolpidem out from my sleeve, my fingers steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. With a practiced hand, I add the smallest drop into three of the tea cups, the subtle liquid barely making a ripple against the lavender tea. The delicate scent of the herbs fills the room as I stir the mixture, my movements fluid, precise. The tea's color deepens as the drug dissolves, and I make sure to mix it in properly, not a single drop left behind.

I slide the vial back into my sleeve and take a deep breath. They won't even know what hit them.

My heart is racing as I walk towards the living room, where Damien and Antoino are still occupied. Leon's eyes flicker to mine as I approach, his gaze sharp and calculating. He's been watching me a little too carefully. But I can't afford to hesitate now.

I put on my best smile, soft and warm, offering them the tea with a casual air. "Lavender tea," I say, my voice sweet and convincing.

Antoino takes the cup without hesitation, and Damien follows suit. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. One more left. Leon, however, is watching me more intently than I would like. I offer my tea to him, but he raises his hand, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," he says, a glint of resolve in his voice. "I have a call to take."

I fight the urge to groan, the frustration threatening to break through. Fuck. This wasn't part of the plan. I can't let him stay alert. Not when everything depends on him being off-balance, just like the others.

I stare at him for a moment longer than necessary, trying to hide the flicker of irritation in my eyes. "You sure? It's really good," I say, trying to sound casual, like it's nothing. But the tension in my voice betrays me.

He pauses, giving me a long, scrutinizing look. My pulse quickens. Then, to my relief, he shakes his head again, clearly unwilling to relent. "I need to take this call."

Goddammit.

I watch him turn and head to the other side of the penthouse, his phone already pressed to his ear as he disappears into the other room. My mind races, calculating my next move. I look back at Damien and Antoino, who are both sipping their tea, their faces calm but their eyes heavy with the weight of the moment. That's two down.

I know I don't have much time. If I don't act fast, this plan will crumble before it even starts.

I turn quickly, heading for the bedroom. My mind is already working, already deciding what I need next. I rifle through the drawers in my walk-in closet, moving with an urgency that matches my pulse. My hand brushes past weapons and old gear, but I know what I'm looking for.

Finally, I find it.

The lipstick. A small, sleek tube—unassuming but perfect for what I need. I run it along my lips, a sharp contrast to the plans brewing in my mind. As I finish, I apply a clear lip gloss over it, the smooth shine glistening under the light. I don't pause to admire the effect. I just glance at myself once in the mirror.

This is it.

When I step back into the living room, Damien and Antoino are both slumped on the couch, their heads tilted awkwardly to one side, eyes shut. Their bodies are sprawled across the rug, like two fallen soldiers caught in a dreamless sleep. The tea cups are knocked over, abandoned in their haste to collapse.

I can't afford to hesitate. I can't afford to be caught.

I take one last look at them—sleeping soundly, oblivious—and step lightly past them, moving toward the exit. They won't be waking up for a while. I'm alone now.

I still need to make sure Leon doesn't ruin everything. But for now, I have the time I need to prepare.

I quietly close the door behind me as I head toward the back of the penthouse, where Leon is finishing his call.

I stop behind him, just for a moment, my heart racing as I try to keep my composure. I don't know why it feels like everything is hanging on this one moment, but it does. The tension is thick, like we're standing on the edge of something and I can't quite tell if I want to jump or if I'm afraid of what happens when I do.

I clear my throat and speak, trying to make my voice sound steady, though I know it's shaking. "Is everything ok?" I ask, trying to play it off as casually as I can.

He turns around, his eyes meeting mine, and the soft smile that crosses his face makes my heart skip. "Yeah, just giving word to my men to prepare," he replies, his voice low but reassuring.

I nod and start to move toward him, my steps slow but deliberate. He watches me, like he's waiting for something, and as I get closer, I feel the warmth of his presence wrapping around me, pulling me in. Without thinking, I walk right into his arms and hug him tightly.

He doesn't hesitate to return the embrace, his arms strong around me, and his chin resting gently on top of my head. I close my eyes, taking in the moment, trying to steady myself. My heart is thumping, but it's not from fear—it's from something deeper, something I haven't quite been able to put into words.

"You don't think about it too much," he says, his voice soft against my ear, the words laced with comfort.

My hand shakes as I hold onto him, but I don't pull away. I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of him grounding me. His words linger in my mind, but there's still something I can't shake.

"Family is blood," he continues, his tone firm but gentle, "They will never turn their back on you, love."

Those words settle into me, like a weight I didn't know I was carrying is finally being lifted. It's like I've been holding my breath for so long, and now I'm finally allowed to exhale.

I pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, everything else fades. It's just the two of us. I can hear the distant hum of the city outside, but it feels like we're in our own world.

I take a shaky breath, my chest tightening with emotion. I reach up, touching his face gently. "I know," I say softly, my voice trembling. "I'll give them their space. I need to. But... thank you. For always being here."

He doesn't say anything at first. Instead, he just looks at me like he's trying to read me, to make sure I'm really okay. And then his eyes soften, like he understands something I haven't said out loud.

And then, without thinking, the words just slip out.

"I love you," I say, my voice quieter than I intended, but the words feel so right, like they've been building up in me for so long that they finally have a place to land. I can see the surprise in his eyes, the way they widen as if he's hearing something that shifts everything between us.

I smile, a little uncertain but full of something deeper—something I never had before him. "I love you, Leon. And before you, I thought love was just a word—something people used to fill the silence. But you... you showed me it's in the moments no one else sees. It's in the way you steady me when my world tilts, the way you pull me back when I try to push you away. It's in the quiet, in the chaos, in the way you look at me like I'm worth the fight, even when I don't believe it myself."

I take a shaky breath, my heart pounding. "You taught me that love isn't just about passion or promises. It's about staying. Even when it's hard. Even when it hurts. And no matter what comes next, I know now—I don't want a life without you in it."

His eyes search mine, and for a moment, I think he might say something, but instead, he steps closer. His hands gently cup my face, and I feel his touch like it's anchoring me, grounding me.

"You don't need to explain," he says, his voice low, "I already know. I love you too, Mariella. More than you'll ever know."

And in that moment, it's like the world outside doesn't matter. Everything—every worry, every fear, every question—fades into the background. All I can hear is the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, all I can feel is the warmth of his arms around me.

"You've taught me how to love too," I whisper, my voice barely audible, but the truth in it echoes between us. "And I'll never let go of you. Not for anything."

And that's all that matters.

I take a deep breath, the weight of what I'm about to do settling on my shoulders like a heavy coat. I look at Leon, his expression soft but uncertain. This is it. This is the moment where I have to make him believe I'm not going to leave him forever. But the truth is, I am. I need him to stay behind for his own safety. For my plan to work.

I step closer, my hand shaking as I lift my face to his. "And I'm sorry," I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

He looks at me, his confusion evident. "What are you talking about?" he starts to ask, but before he can finish, I pull him in and kiss him. My lips press against his, lingering for just a moment, then I pull away, making sure the lipgloss leaves its trace, and his taste, a reminder of what I'm about to do.

His eyes flicker with realization, and I can see the confusion turning into something else—worry, maybe even a little fear. I stand back, my heart racing, but I force myself to speak calmly. "Please, don't worry about me. I promise I'll be back. But I can't keep you in the dark any longer. You've always protected me, now it's my turn to take the risk, to fight for both of us."

He stares at me, his gaze narrowing, and his body sways slightly. "What... did... you... do?" His words come out slow, heavy, and I can see his strength faltering.

I step forward to catch him, feeling the weight of his body as he stumbles back. I look into his eyes, the confusion there like a sharp pain in my chest, and I force myself to say the words I know will seal my fate.

"I can't walk away from this. I need revenge, Leon. I need to make him pay for everything he's done—to my mother, to Marco, to all of us."

The words hang in the air, thick and final, but Leon's face contorts in disbelief. I quickly try to place him on the couch, his body limp in my arms. He's no longer standing on his own, his strength gone, the world around him fading into nothingness. As I gently set him down, his last words escape in a soft whisper, "Mariella..."

His body relaxes, his eyes closing as he falls into a deep, unknowing sleep. My heart shatters as I watch him, but I can't back down now.

I kneel beside him, brushing his hair back from his face, my fingers trembling as I silently beg for his forgiveness. "Per favore perdonami, amore mio (Please forgive me, my love)," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

I place a kiss on his forehead, lingering for just a second before I stand, wiping the lip gloss from my sleeve as I turn the exit. The plan is already set into motion, and I can't afford to hesitate. I have to go.

I have to do this. For him, for me, for us.

✧✧✧✧✧✧

WHAT SHE DRUGGED THEM

AH SHITT!

We got a runner..

Bye, lovies! (っ◔◡◔)っ

Maddie♡