The wind was cold that night.
Amara paced the narrow balcony of her rented apartment, clutching a mug of tea that had long gone cold. Verona lay beneath her like a sleeping giant, all soft golden lights and quiet whispers, but her mind was anything but calm. Between Leo's confession and Mara's ominous warning, the lines between truth and illusion were blurring fast.
She hadn't seen Leo all day. No texts. No missed calls. Just silence.
I'll give you space, he'd said. But that space now felt like a void, pulling her deeper into doubt.
Still, something about Mara's story gnawed at her. A fire. A dead woman. Rumors.
But no facts.
Why hadn't she been able to find anything online? If Claudia's death had been suspicious, surely something would have surfaced. And if Leo really had a dark past, why warn her with riddles instead of the truth?
She needed answers. Not fear. Not half-stories.
With a renewed sense of determination, she grabbed her coat and descended into the quiet night. Her feet moved with purpose, leading her through twisting streets until she stood outside the café where she and Leo had met twice now. The place was closed. Dark. But something told her this was where she needed to be.
She turned the corner to find a shadow leaning against the alley wall. A cigarette glowed briefly in the dark.
"Looking for someone?" Leo's voice.
Relief flooded her chest so fast she could hardly breathe.
"You scared the hell out of me," she whispered, stepping closer.
He tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his heel. "You said you needed space."
"Not forever."
He studied her face in the dim light. "Then why are you here?"
"Because I want the truth. All of it."
Leo exhaled, then gestured toward the end of the alley. "Come with me."
They walked together in silence through the sleeping city until they reached an old stone building at the edge of the river. It looked like a forgotten library or some municipal building that hadn't been touched in decades.
Leo unlocked the door.
"Is this where you live?" she asked, following him inside.
"For now," he replied. The inside was modest. Sparse. A bed tucked into a corner, shelves lined with books, an old desk cluttered with loose sheets of music and a half-finished cello resting nearby. There was no television, no décor. Just… quiet.
Leo lit a single lamp, and the soft glow revealed his face in full. Tired. Worn. Beautiful in a tragic kind of way.
"I haven't told you everything," he said, voice low.
"I know."
"I lied about my name. It's not just Leo. It's Leonardo Moretti."
She blinked. "Moretti… that name sounds familiar."
"It should," he said bitterly. "My family used to own half the vineyards in northern Italy. My father was one of the most powerful men in Verona. Until everything fell apart."
He sat on the edge of the bed. "My brother, Matteo, died in a car bombing—one meant for my father. I was fifteen. I watched the flames take him. I was supposed to be in that car."
Amara felt the world tilt.
"My father swore vengeance. Turned to people he never should have. The Moretti family became… feared. And I became what they wanted me to be: a quiet son who would inherit a legacy of violence."
"You ran," she whispered.
He nodded. "I left everything. The vineyards. The power. The ghosts. I changed my name, started over."
"What about Claudia?" she asked, holding her breath.
Leo's face collapsed into shadow. "She was the only one who knew everything. The only one who loved me anyway. She played piano. Taught music to kids. We lived together for almost two years."
"What happened to her?"
He looked down. "We fought. That night… she begged me to go to the police. She said I couldn't hide from my past forever. I walked out. Needed air. By the time I came back, the apartment was in flames. They said it was faulty wiring. But I knew it wasn't."
"Who did it?"
"I don't know. My father's enemies. Maybe even Mara. She was obsessed with me back then. Tried to turn me against Claudia."
Amara stepped closer, heart aching.
"You blamed yourself."
"I still do."
Silence stretched between them. Then: "I don't want to hurt anyone else, Amara. That's why I didn't want to fall for you."
She froze. "Fall for me?"
He stood and approached her slowly. "You make me feel things I haven't felt in years. But that scares me. Because everything I touch…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Instead, Amara reached for his hand.
"You can't protect me by running away," she said. "I deserve to make that choice for myself."
Leo searched her eyes as if trying to memorize them. "You're not afraid?"
"I am," she admitted. "But not of you. I'm afraid of losing something that might actually be real."
They stood inches apart.
The air between them was electric, tense, fragile.
Then, slowly, their lips met—soft at first, then desperate. Like two people who knew the world might fall apart the moment they pulled away.
And maybe it would.
But for now, all that mattered was this: they were no longer alone.