The moonlight spilled softly across the vast marble terrace of the Moretti estate, its cold glow brushing the edges of wine glasses and half-eaten desserts left on the garden table. Laughter still echoed faintly from the ballroom behind them, filtered through the tall glass doors and heavy velvet curtains. The celebration hadn't ended, but for Leonardo Moretti, it never truly began.
He stood by the balcony, fingers curled around the cold iron railing, his black suit immaculate, his dark hair slicked back like a prince carved from shadow. He had always been that way composed, unreadable, refined. Yet tonight, a crack ran beneath that elegant surface.
Behind him, Marco De Luca watched in silence.
Marco wasn't dressed for the celebration. Unlike the guests, he wore a discreet black shirt tucked into tactical trousers, the subtle bulge of his holster hidden beneath the fabric. But his eyes sharp, stormy, and fixed on Leonardo burned more than any candle inside.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," Marco said at last, voice low, gravelly.
Leonardo didn't turn. "I'm not alone," he said quietly.
Marco stepped closer, stopping just behind him. "Your father just announced your engagement. The entire ballroom clapped like loyal dogs. And you... didn't even flinch."
Leonardo's jaw tightened. "Would it have changed anything if I did?"
There was a bitter pause between them. Wind stirred the night, rustling the roses climbing the terrace columns. The scent of them was thick... overripe, almost choking.
"No," Marco admitted. "But I would've known you were still fighting."
Leonardo turned then, slowly, and looked at him... really looked. Marco, with his protective stance, eyes shadowed beneath thick lashes, a faint scar by his brow from a past shootout that nearly cost him his life. A scar Leonardo had traced once in secret.
"I'm tired, Marco," Leonardo said softly. "Tired of pretending. Tired of surviving. And now they want me to marry a woman I've never spoken to. For business. For legacy. For power."
Marco's eyes flickered. "Then let's leave. Right now."
Leonardo's breath caught.
Marco's voice, rough with emotion now, dropped lower. "If you don't want to get married, let's run away. We can disappear. I'll protect you. We'll find somewhere quiet. Free."
The silence between them swelled with the weight of the impossible.
Leonardo stepped forward, the railing at his back now, and stared into Marco's eyes. "And when they find us?"
Marco's throat worked. "If they ever catch us... the first thing they'll do is kill me."
Leonardo flinched. That truth was sharper than any bullet. It cracked through him like a whip.
"I'm not afraid to die," Marco said, stepping even closer, their faces inches apart.
Leonardo's hands curled into fists at his sides. "Neither am I," he whispered. "But I don't want to lose you."
A muscle ticked in Marco's jaw. "Then what are we doing, Leo? Waiting for your wedding day? Watching you promise yourself to someone else while I stand behind you like a ghost?"
Leonardo looked down, his voice nearly breaking. "I don't know what to do."
Marco raised a hand, almost touched him but didn't. "Then let me be the one thing you choose."
For a moment, Leonardo's eyes shimmered with something unspoken. Love. Fear. Desperation.
But footsteps echoed in the distance the sound of approaching guards.
Leonardo straightened, the moment vanishing behind his mask. "You should go."
Marco looked like he wanted to argue, but years of training told him not to. He nodded once, his eyes lingering.
Leonardo turned away, gazing out over the darkened gardens, his voice barely audible.
"If we were born in a different world… I would've married you."
And then, Marco was gone melting back into the shadows where he always belonged.