Tangled in the Mafia’s Web

Episode Thirty-nine

Leandro took a few steps closer to Ginevra, his footsteps barely making a sound on the plush rug. He stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her peaceful slumber. His eyes traced the contours of her face, admiring her delicate features and the way her lips formed a subtle smile even in her sleep.

If only she does wear this expression while awake. To him, she was a tough one, he could always sense the fear in her eyes whenever he was around, but she invariably do put up challenging words and appearance in contrast to her fear of him.

The fear he always felt in her had evolved ever since the day he lost his cool at herm—he had felt so bleak seeing the expression she wore when he had visited the previous day.

That expression he hate so much, and if he could do something to reverse it, he would, especially now he feels so much drawn to her.

And as he watched her, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, and memories of his late wife flooded his mind. He saw glimpses of her in Ginevra—the peaceful and delicate face of her asleep, her long lashes, her lips, and the way her body lay in their bed.

Leandro's heart ached with both longing and a tinge of guilt as if he were betraying his wife's memory by finding solace in another.

With a mix of tenderness and hesitation, Leandro reached out and lightly caressed Ginevra's cheek, his touch feather-light. His fingertips traced the contours of her skin, savoring the softness beneath his touch. It was a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment of the connection he felt with her.

But as quickly as he had made contact, Leandro pulled his hand back, a mixture of emotions playing across his face. He realized the complexity of his feelings and the thin balance he needed to maintain between the past and the present.

With a gentle touch, Leandro reached into her bedroom and retrieve a blanket and as he returned, he carefully unfolded it. He leaned down, his movements slow and deliberate, as he calmly draped the soft fabric over Ginevra's sleeping form. He tucked it around her, ensuring she was covered from shoulders to toes, shielding her from the chill of the room.

Leandro's fingers lingered for a moment, his touch feather-light as he adjusted the blanket with utmost care. And then, he took a step back, his gaze lingering on Ginevra's peaceful form. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt, nor could he ignore the memories that stirred within him. But he knew that he needed to reach out carefully, both for his own sake and for Ginevra's.

With a heavy sigh, Leandro turned away from her and silently made his way through the living room, leaving her undisturbed. He closed the door behind him, the click of the lock resonating in the stillness of the apartment.

Morning soon came, Ginevra's peaceful slumber was interrupted by the persistent ringing of her cell phone on the center table. She fumbled for it, her fingers clumsily searching for the source of the disturbance, and groggily she reached for it, squinting at the bright screen as she answered the call.

"Hello?" Ginevra's voice was laden with sleep, her eyelids heavy as she struggled to adjust to the intrusion.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! Finally decided to wake up, huh?" Chiara's voice came through the phone, filled with infectious energy.

Ginevra couldn't help but chuckle softly, her voice still laced with sleepiness. "Hey, Chiara." She muttered. "You really have an uncanny talent for interrupting my precious moments of rest. What's going on? It's still morning."

A mischievous tone danced in Chiara's voice as she replied, "Well, I just had this sudden urge to push your lazy ass off the bed. Figured a phone call would have to suffice."

Ginevra laughed, her weariness gradually dissipating. "You know, one of these days, I might actually let you do it. So, how was your shift?"

There was a momentary pause on the other end of the line before Chiara's tone turned a bit serious.

"Actually, I received a call from a child. It was a really tough case. The child was much tender and didn't know their home address. Their mother had collapsed. We had to work against the clock, but fortunately, the emergency unit arrived just in time. The kid... they were incredibly brave."

"They sure are," Ginevra mumbled.

"So, Gin, are you off for lectures today or do you have to endure the torture of that apartment?"

Ginevra let out a groan, her exhaustion evident. "Unfortunately, I have to subject myself to the torture of lectures I'm already familiar with. Begins at 10 am. This is hell, Chiara, pure hell."

Chiara chuckled sympathetically. "I feel you, but come on, don't sound like a woman in distress, all you have to do is just be present."

Ginevra soon concluded her call with Chiara, the morning light filtering faintly through the curtains. She glanced around the room, her tiredness evident as she realized she had slept on the couch all night. She let out a sigh, feeling a sense of grogginess wash over her.

She glanced around the room, her mind preoccupied with Leandro's absence. “Sort of weird he didn't come. f**k, he's so rude." she mumbled.

Being the first time he had ever given her a heads-up about his visit, and the thought of him making her wait pathetically irritated her.

“Yes he's a mafia, and what? Does that give him the right to act so arrogantly?" she thought to herself feeling sick of even looking forward to his presence.

Ginevra struggled to rise from the comfort of the couch, her drowsy gaze landing on the unexpected presence of a blanket. It lay gracefully draped across her body, capturing her attention and causing a wave of confusion to wash over her. She furrowed her brows, her mind racing to grasp the elusive memory of how she had ended up sleeping on the couch in the first place.

Her fingers absentmindedly brushed against the soft fabric, tracing the delicate contours. Questions danced in her mind, swirling like a whirlwind. With a mix of curiosity and a growing sense of speculation, Ginevra's feet found their footing as she rose off the couch.

She began to tread lightly towards the locked door, confusion mingled with a twitch of suspicion as she reached for the doorknob. Her fingers grasped it lightly, but then, it was just as she had left it—locked. Her eyes darted around, taking in the familiarity of her surroundings. Everything appeared undisturbed, yet the unanswered questions lingered in the air, making her feel she may have had some companies–or sort.

But then, with a resigned sigh, Ginevra made her way toward her bedroom.

She returned to the living room after a refresh. Her hair was casually tied up in a loose bun, clad in a comfortable ensemble of grey shorts and a matching top. And just as she headed towards the kitchen to whip up some delicious pancakes for breakfast, the sound of the doorbell suddenly pierced the air, catching her off guard.