Valerio pulled the car to a smooth stop right in front of Leona's modest apartment building. The flickering streetlight above cast a dull yellow glow on the cracked pavement, and the quiet hum of the city morning barely broke the silence between them.
Leona reached for the passenger door handle but paused, glancing back at him with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Well," she said, stepping out of the car, "the only trouble I see hanging around me… is you."
Her tone was light, teasing — but something about the way she said it stuck with Valerio. He watched her stride up the narrow path to her door, her figure disappearing behind the worn wooden frame.
"Trouble?" Valerio muttered to himself, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "You have no idea."
Just as Leona reached her door, her hand froze on the key. With a sigh, she turned back, her boots tapping softly against the pavement as she hurried back to the car.
Valerio had just started the engine when her knuckles rapped against the window. He rolled it down, eyebrow quirked in curiosity.
"I can't believe I almost forgot my manners," Leona said with a sheepish smile. "Would you both like to come inside? I mean… I don't have much, but there's coffee, and…" she paused, glancing at Dante, "I'm pretty sure someone could use a glass of water."
Dante chuckled from the seat, clearly amused. "Are you offering hospitality or trying to babysit us?"
"Maybe both," Leona shot back with a grin.
Valerio leaned back in his seat, studying her for a moment — her warm smile, her soft eyes — and for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say no.
"Sure," he said, cutting the engine. "But if your coffee's terrible, I'm leaving immediately."
Leona laughed as she turned back toward her apartment. "You'll survive."
Leona's apartment was the definition of cozy. The moment they stepped inside, the faint scent of vanilla lingered in the air. The living room was small but tidy, each corner decorated with soft pastel hues. A beige couch sat against the wall, draped with a knitted throw blanket and a few mismatched pillows that somehow fit together perfectly. Fairy lights were strung above the window, adding a gentle glow that softened the space.
A wooden bookshelf stood by the corner, lined with worn paperbacks, scented candles, and a small potted plant that looked a little too well cared for. The kitchen, barely separated from the living room, had a handful of pastel mugs hanging neatly from hooks above the sink. Everything felt carefully arranged — warm, delicate, and undeniably her.
To Valerio and Dante, however, the place seemed far too small — barely enough space for one person, let alone company. Dante scanned the room, arching a brow as if questioning how she managed to live there. Valerio, on the other hand, found himself drawn to the soft details — the little framed photo on her shelf, a butterfly charm dangling from her window latch.
"Cute place," Dante muttered, unable to hide his smirk.
Leona shot him a look. "It's home."
And somehow, Valerio couldn't help but think it suited her perfectly — soft, warm… yet oddly fragile.
As Leona moved gracefully around her tiny kitchen, preparing coffee, she spoke casually, her voice light and cheerful.
"The bar's pay is surprisingly good," she said with a smile. "And people are generous with tips… guess being called pretty has its perks."
Her tone was innocent, but those words struck a nerve. Valerio's grip on his glass tightened, knuckles faintly turning white. He knew exactly what kind of men lurked in that bar late at night — men who didn't just leave tips out of kindness. The thought of those lowlifes eyeing Leona, calling her pretty like she was some prize… it simmered something dark inside him.
Dante, noticing the shift in Valerio's demeanor, lazily swirled his drink with an amused smirk. "Careful, Val," he teased, "You're looking like you might punch someone already."
Valerio shot him a sharp glare before returning his gaze to Leona. She was still smiling, completely oblivious to the storm brewing behind his eyes.
Leona handed them their coffee, her fingers brushing lightly against the mugs as she set them down. She glanced between the two men, her gaze flickering with curiosity.
"You know," she started, wrapping her hands around her own cup, "I'm taller than most girls, but somehow… I feel small standing next to you two."
She paused, taking a sip before adding with a teasing smile, "So… are you guys friends? Because you don't look alike enough to be brothers."
Dante let out a low chuckle, leaning back comfortably against her couch. "I'd say we're more like brothers than friends."
Valerio, still brooding over her earlier comment, muttered, "Unfortunately."
Leona's lips twitched in amusement. "Must be fun," she said softly, her gaze warm. "Having someone who's got your back."
For a moment, the room felt oddly calm — a rare kind of peace in Valerio's chaotic life. And yet, all he could focus on was how Leona's smile made the room feel brighter… and how dangerous that feeling was.
Leona took another sip of her coffee, her eyes flicking between the two men. With a playful grin curling on her lips, she added, "Though if I had to pick… Russo looks better."
Dante's laugh erupted instantly, loud and smug. He shot Valerio a victorious look, draping his arm casually over the back of the couch.
"See?" Dante smirked. "Told you I'm the better-looking one."
Valerio's jaw clenched, his grip tightening around his coffee mug. "Looks aren't everything," he muttered, earning another chuckle from Dante.
Leona grinned wider, clearly enjoying their banter. "Relax, Val. I was just teasing."
Valerio's eyes flicked back to her, noticing the sparkle in her gaze — light-hearted and innocent. But somehow, that teasing smile of hers managed to annoy him more than anything.
Leona's smile faltered as she realized her slip. "Oh! I'm sorry… I didn't mean to call you Val." Her eyes widened slightly, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It just… slipped out."
Valerio gave a small shrug, acting unbothered. "It's fine."
Relieved, Leona stood, gathering the empty coffee mugs. "I'll just put these away." She disappeared into the kitchen, her soft hum trailing behind her.
As soon as she was out of sight, Dante's eyes gleamed with mischief. He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket.
"Where are you going?" Valerio asked, frowning.
"Work," Dante grinned, clearly lying. He shot Valerio a knowing look, voice low enough to avoid Leona hearing. "Looks like you've got the whole day free… maybe you should stick around. Wouldn't want her getting into trouble, right?"
Before Valerio could argue, Dante was already at the door, flashing a smug smile over his shoulder. "Have fun babysitting."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Valerio scowled, muttering under his breath. Spending the day with Leona was the last thing he needed — yet somehow, he couldn't bring himself to leave either.
Leona emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a cloth. Her brows pinched together as she glanced at the closed door.
"Did Dante just… leave?" she asked, her voice trailing off in confusion.
Valerio leaned back on her small couch, fingers loosely curled around his knee. "Yeah… said he had work."
Leona scoffed lightly. "And he couldn't have remembered that before walking all the way up here?" She crossed her arms, clearly puzzled.
The silence that followed was heavy — charged, almost suffocating. Neither could ignore the lingering tension between them, a tension neither wanted to address but couldn't shake off.
Leona shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling her skin prickle with discomfort. Memories of that night — the dim bar lights, Valerio's low voice slurring as he leaned in too close — crawled back into her mind.
"You know," she started, forcing a light laugh, "he could've at least made it less awkward before ditching us."
Valerio exhaled sharply, almost like a laugh but laced with frustration. He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze falling anywhere but on her. "Look… about that night—"
"It's fine," Leona cut in quickly. "You were drunk. It's forgotten."
"I wasn't that drunk," Valerio muttered under his breath, but the words hung heavily.
Leona blinked, caught off guard. Her fingers tightened slightly on the cloth she still held. "Well… whatever it was, I'm just glad you don't make a habit of it."
"I don't," Valerio said firmly, meeting her eyes at last. "I shouldn't have asked you that — I know that now."
For a moment, neither spoke. The air between them felt dense, like the walls of her small apartment were closing in.
"So…" Leona finally said, attempting to break the silence, "What now?"
Valerio's lips quirked faintly. "I guess I'm stuck here until Dante shows up again."
Leona let out a breathless chuckle. "Great. Just what I needed — a brooding mafia heir camped out on my couch."
Leona rolled her eyes, turning back toward the kitchen to put away the cups. Behind her, Valerio's voice followed — low and teasing.
"Well… now that I'm here," he drawled, "I guess I could have whatever I want."
Her steps faltered slightly, her hand tightening around the counter's edge.
"Don't start," she warned without turning around.
"Relax," Valerio chuckled, his tone lighter now. "I was talking about the coffee."
Leona turned, raising a brow. "Sure you were."
He leaned back on her couch, smirking. "I mean… if you're offering something else…"
She scoffed, tossing the cloth at him, which he caught with ease.
"Try that again, and the only thing you'll be getting is a coffee pot to the head," she shot back, but her smile betrayed the faint amusement creeping in.
Valerio grinned wider, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. "You know, for someone so sweet, you've got a dangerous side."
"You have no idea." Leona muttered under her breath, but the playful smile never left her lips.
Valerio's grin didn't waver as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze locked on Leona.
"So…" he started, his voice softer but still carrying that teasing undertone. "Mind telling me why you turned me down that night?"
Leona blinked, her smile faltering. She hadn't expected him to bring it up — not now.
"I didn't think I needed a reason," she replied lightly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"You don't," Valerio shrugged, "but I'm curious." His eyes darkened slightly, losing their playful edge. "I don't usually get rejected."
Leona scoffed. "Yeah, I figured."
"So?" He leaned back again, watching her closely. "Didn't like me? Or…" he paused, smirking, "were you just playing hard to get?"
Her smile returned, faint but firm. "I'm not 'playing' anything, Valerio."
For a moment, silence settled between them — heavy yet oddly comfortable.
"You're different, you know," Valerio murmured, more to himself than to her. "I can't figure you out."
"Good," Leona shot back with a small smile. "I like it that way."
She turned toward the window, hoping he'd drop the conversation. But Valerio's gaze lingered — curious, frustrated, and undeniably drawn in.
Leona kept her back turned to him, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her empty coffee cup on the counter.
"I'm just… looking for something real," she said quietly. "Someone special… not just something casual."
Her voice was soft, but her words carried weight.
Valerio tilted his head, a faint scoff escaping him — not mocking, but more surprised than anything.
"Something real?" he repeated, almost as if the concept was foreign to him. "In a city like this?"
Leona finally turned to face him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"Yeah," she said, her gaze steady. "Believe it or not, some people still want that."