112

112
Rosa’s POV
The rain tapped softly against the windows, the steady rhythm filling the quiet space between us. Allesio sat across from me on the couch, his expression as easygoing as ever. There was something about the way he looked at me, like he wasn’t in a rush, like he could wait forever for me to say something. It was infuriating and comforting all at once.
I swirled the wine in my glass, watching the deep red liquid catch the dim light of the room. The silence between us wasn’t awkward-it never was-but tonight, it felt heavy kind of. My heart was filled with words I wasn’t sure I wanted to say.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the stillness. His voice was low, warm, and it pulled at something deep inside me.
“Just thinking,” I replied, lifting the glass to my lips.
“About?”
I hesitated, glancing at him. His eyes were steady, curious but not probing. Somehow, that made it harder to resist.
“My father,” I admitted finally, my voice softer than I intended.
He didn’t say anything right away, just nodded slightly, encouraging me to continue. “He’s… complicated,” I said, leaning back against the cushions. “Loving, protective, but demanding. He expects a lot, but he gives a lot too. I guess that’s why I try so hard not to disappoint him.”
Allesio leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “Sounds like he cares about you.”
“He does,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “He always has. When I was little, he used to call me his princess. I’d sit on his lap during meetings, completely oblivious to what was going on around me. He never pushed me away, no matter how busy he was.”
The memory warmed me, and for a moment, I could almost feel his arm around my shoulders, hear his deep laughter as he indulged my every whim.
“He sounds like a good father,” Allesio said, his voice genuine.
“He is,” I replied, my smile fading slightly. “But he’s also the head of the family. That means sometimes, he has to make decisions that… aren’t easy. Decisions that affect all of us, not just me.”
Allesio’s expression didn’t change, but I could feel his interest sharpening, like he was storing away every word I said.
“I didn’t understand that when I was younger,” I continued. “I thought everything revolved around me. If he missed a dinner or a school play, I’d throw a fit. I didn’t realize how much he was sacrificing to keep us safe, to keep me safe.”
“Do you now?” he asked softly.
I nodded. “I do. That’s why I work so hard to prove myself to him. To show him that I can handle the weight of the family’s expectations.”
“Do you ever wish you didn’t have to?”
The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to answer.
“Sometimes,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I? This is the life I was born into. There’s no escaping it, not without betraying everything I’ve been raised to believe in.”
He didn’t respond right away, and when I glanced at him, I found him watching me with an intensity that made my chest tighten.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he said finally, his tone firm. “Most people would crumble under that kind of pressure, but you’re still standing. That says a lot.”
His words surprised me, and I felt a flush creep up my neck. I wasn’t used to being seen like that, to having someone acknowledge the weight I carried without dismissing it or using it against me.
“Thank you,” I said softly, the words feeling strangely intimate.
He nodded, and for a moment, the silence between us felt different-less heavy, more… understanding.
As I found myself sharing more than I intended. Little anecdotes about my childhood, the times my father would sneak me out for ice cream after a long day, or the way he’d let me stay up late to watch old black-and-white movies with him.
“He has a soft spot for Humphrey Bogart,” I said, laughing. “He won’t admit it, but I caught him quoting Casablanca once.”
Allesio chuckled, his smile reaching his eyes. “I can see it. The stoic mob boss with a secret love for old romance movies. It’s a good look.”
I laughed again, the sound light and unguarded. It felt good to talk about the happier moments, to remember that my father wasn’t just a leader-he was a man who loved his daughter fiercely, even if he didn’t always show it in conventional ways.
But it wasn’t long before I found myself treading into more vulnerable territory.
“There was a time,” I said hesitantly, “when I thought I’d lost him. He was away on business, and there was an… incident. We didn’t hear from him for days. I was terrified. I didn’t know what I’d do if he didn’t come back.”
“What happened?” Allesio asked, his voice low.
“He came back,” I said, swallowing hard. “But he was different. Quieter, more cautious. It was like a part of him had been left behind.”
I didn’t realize how much I’d revealed until I saw the way Allesio was looking at me-like he understood, like he cared. It was disarming, and for a moment, I felt the urge to pull back, to guard myself against the vulnerability I’d let slip through.
But then he reached across the space between us, his hand brushing mine briefly.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” he said, his voice sincere.
I nodded, unable to find the words to respond.
But I couldn’t deny that I felt… lighter, like I’d let go of a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying. I stared at the ceiling, doubt creeping in.
Why had I told him so much?
I trusted Allesio-or at least, I wanted to. But trust was a dangerous thing, especially in my world. People didn’t just take your secrets; they turned them into weapons.
And yet, when I thought about the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d listened without judgment, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. Maybe it was foolish, but for now, I wanted to believe that someone other than Emilia could see me-not just Rosa, the heir to my father’s empire, but Rosa, the woman who loved black-and-white movies and old journals and quiet nights spent reminiscing about a simpler time.
Maybe, just maybe, that was enough.