The morning sun barely peeked through the curtains when the heavy double doors of the Moretti estate swung open. The air shifted instantly — the unmistakable presence of the Russo family filled the room. Dante, standing near the staircase, winced at the sight of his parents marching in with determined steps.
"Dante Russo!" His father's thunderous voice echoed through the hallway.
"Here we go…" Dante muttered under his breath.
His mother was the first to reach him, her sharp glare enough to make even Valerio pause. "How dare you keep this from us?" she demanded, gripping her son's arm tightly. "We had to hear about Alessia's condition from someone else? What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking about keeping things calm," Dante shot back, pulling his arm free. "I didn't want you both panicking and storming in."
"Storming in?" His father scoffed. "Our goddaughter was in danger, and you expect us to sit quietly?"
"She's fine now," Valerio cut in, voice firm yet calm. "She's resting upstairs."
"That's not the point!" Dante's mother snapped. "We're family — we should've been informed the moment something happened!"
Before anyone could respond, Leona emerged from Alessia's room, stepping halfway down the stairs. Her gaze flicked between the heated faces before landing on Dante.
"You okay?" she asked casually, clearly oblivious to the tension.
Dante grinned despite himself. "Yeah… just getting scolded like a five-year-old."
Leona smiled, but her eyes shifted uneasily to the Russo family. Dante's mother's gaze softened as she looked at her.
"You must be Leona," she said, stepping forward. "We've heard about you."
Leona blinked, unsure whether that was a good thing or not.
"I…" she started but faltered.
"She's been helping with Alessia," Valerio added from behind her, tone protective.
"Good," Dante's father finally spoke, his voice calmer this time. "Because if anyone harms her again… they'll answer to both the Russo and Moretti families."
The threat was heavy, yet there was comfort in it — a promise that Leona wasn't alone in this chaos.
"I'm just glad she's okay," Leona murmured, her voice softer now.
Dante's mother reached out, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "You've done well, dear," she said with warmth.
Leona smiled faintly, her heart feeling lighter — even if she wasn't entirely sure what she'd gotten herself into.
Leona stood in the middle of the room, her sweet smile radiating innocence — but Dante knew better. She clasped her hands together and spoke in a syrupy tone that sent a chill down his spine.
"You know…" Leona began softly, addressing Dante's parents. "I've noticed Dante's been a bit… distracted lately."
Dante's father turned sharply toward his son. "Distracted?"
"Oh, yes," Leona continued sweetly, ignoring Dante's frantic gestures for her to stop. "I mean, it's understandable — he's been… quite busy."
"Busy?" Dante's mother's voice sharpened. "With what exactly?"
Leona tilted her head with an innocent smile. "Oh, you know… different women, late nights… barely focusing on anything important lately."
"Leona!" Dante hissed.
"Oh no, no!" Leona gasped softly, her tone full of fake concern. "I'm sure it's nothing serious! Just… he's been so careless lately. I mean, leaving Valerio and me alone that morning? Imagine if something had happened to me!"
Dante's father's face darkened. "Careless, huh?"
"And to think," Leona added with a sigh, "how worried you all must be about Alessia… It's good that Valerio's been more responsible."
"You're grounded," Dante's mother snapped.
"What?! I'm not a kid!" Dante blurted.
"You're acting like one," his father growled.
Leona pressed her lips together, fighting the victorious smile threatening to break free. As Dante shot her a murderous glare, she gave him a quick wink.
"Payback," she mouthed.
Dante's father crossed his arms, his voice firm and sharp.
"You're twenty-three, Dante! Not some reckless teenager anymore!" he barked. "While you're out there acting like a fool, real responsibilities are piling up! Alessia's condition, this family's safety — and you're too busy chasing skirts to even notice!"
Dante shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his shoes like a scolded child.
"You're not a kid anymore," his father continued, voice lowering but no less serious. "It's time you started acting like a Russo — with some damn sense in your head."
Leona blinked in surprise, her gaze shifting between Dante and his father.
"Wait… you're younger than me?" she blurted out, disbelief clear in her tone.
Dante shot her a look, somewhere between annoyed and embarrassed. "Barely," he muttered under his breath.
"Not barely enough," his father cut in sternly. "You should start acting your age instead of running around like some careless teenager!"
Leona stifled a laugh, biting her lip to keep it in. Dante's eyes narrowed at her. "Enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Just a little," she teased, her grin widening.
As Dante's father continued his lecture, the room felt tense — yet among all the serious faces, Leona stood out. She wasn't upset or worried like the others; instead, there was a faint smile tugging at her lips.
For the first time in her life, she felt like she was part of something — a family. The bickering, the concern, the scolding… it wasn't just chaos; it was care. Something she had never truly experienced before.
She folded her arms, quietly observing the scene, warmth settling in her chest. This — this felt like home.
As the lecture continued
Dante's voice rose, frustration lacing his words. "I'm twenty-three, not a kid anymore!" he snapped, his tone sharper than before.
His father's glare darkened. "Then act like it," he shot back firmly. "Running around without a care in the world, playing games while your friend's sister is—"
"I'm not playing games!" Dante interrupted, his voice louder now. "I've been doing everything I can to help Valerio and Alessia!"
"By what? Flirting with every girl in sight?" his father retorted.
Leona, still watching from the side, bit her lip to suppress a smile. Dante's frustration was real, but seeing him squirm under his father's stern gaze was oddly satisfying — especially after all the teasing he'd put her through.
Dante's temper flared, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
"Maybe if you weren't so busy playing perfect family man, you'd know what's really going on!"
The room fell into stunned silence. Valerio's gaze snapped to Dante, while his father's face hardened with disbelief and anger.
"Excuse me?" his father's voice was dangerously low.
Dante clenched his jaw, clearly regretting his outburst but too stubborn to back down. "I'm just saying… you can't expect me to fix everything on my own," he muttered, quieter this time.
His father's expression softened just a little, but his disappointment still lingered. "You think this is about fixing things?" He shook his head. "It's about responsibility — something you still don't seem to understand."
Leona shifted awkwardly, unsure if she should stay or leave. Dante's rare outburst made her feel… oddly sympathetic. For all his cocky attitude, maybe he was carrying more weight than he let on.
Crossing her arms, Leona — the ever-known sweet girl — spoke with unexpected firmness, "Apologize to him."
Her voice, steady yet sharp, sliced through the tension in the room. The warmth usually present in her tone was gone, replaced by an unwavering authority that left no room for argument.
Dante, stunned, blinked at her. "What?"
"You heard me," Leona's gaze locked onto his, unflinching. "He's your father, and no matter how upset you are, you don't speak to him like that."
The room seemed to still, everyone quietly watching the exchange. Dante's usual smirk faltered under her stare. He scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, but the weight of her words lingered.
"…Fine," Dante muttered begrudgingly, turning to his father. "I'm sorry," he said, voice low but sincere enough.
His father gave a small nod, seemingly satisfied.
Valerio, watching from the side, couldn't hide his amusement. Sweet little Leona had managed to silence Dante Russo — and that was a sight to remember.
Leona's gaze softened, yet her voice remained firm as she added, "Cherish what you have, Dante."
Her arms loosened from their cross, and her eyes flickered with something deeper — something raw. "People like me… can only crave that. Knowing that even if I'm dead, I'll have no one crying or sad."
The room grew quiet again, the weight of her words sinking in. Dante, who was ready to fire back moments ago, now just stared at her. For once, he couldn't come up with a teasing remark or some witty comment.
"You don't know that," Valerio said quietly from behind her, his voice softer than usual.
Leona gave a small smile — not one of comfort, but one that said she had long accepted that truth. Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving the room still heavy with her lingering presence.
Leona cleared her throat, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Alright, enough with the shouting," she said, her tone light yet firm. "Alessia doesn't like loud noises."
She turned to Valerio's parents with a bright smile, as if the earlier tension had never existed. "Now, who's up for breakfast?"
Dante exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, but Leona ignored it. She knew he wouldn't push back — not after what she'd said. Instead, she moved closer to Alessia, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face and whispering softly, "You're okay now."
Valerio watched her carefully. She acted like her usual cheerful self, but that brief crack in her façade lingered in his mind. There was more to Leona Vale than she ever let on — and now, he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to know why.
As the cook placed a bowl of fresh salad on the table, Leona's eyes narrowed, her gaze snapping to Valerio.
"Seriously?" she muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
Valerio smirked, casually spearing a cherry tomato with his fork. "What?"
"You told the cook, didn't you?" she accused, crossing her arms.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.
Leona huffed, stabbing her fork into a leaf of lettuce like it had personally offended her. "I'm not a rabbit, Valerio."
"Could've fooled me," he shot back with a grin.
Leona's eyes drifted across the table, noticing the identical leafy salads on everyone's plates. With a raised brow and a sarcastic smile, she asked, "So… does everyone here usually feast like rabbits, or is this some new health cult I didn't hear about?"
Dante snorted into his drink, barely holding back a laugh.
Valerio leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. "We're just trying to help you set a good example, sunshine."
Leona scoffed, stabbing at her salad again. "Yeah, well… don't expect me to start hopping around anytime soon."