The evening sky over Switzerland was painted with fading orange and purple, the last warmth of the day slipping away.
She picked up her phone, hesitating. For almost fifty days, every moment had been a mix of joy and unspoken questions. Tonight, she had decided that it was time to talk about the future, about what came after this vacation.
She dialed him.
"How about dinner?" she asked, voice quiet but steady. "I… need to discuss something with you."
"Perfect timing," he replied. "I also have something important to tell you."
Later, in a quiet corner of the hotel restaurant, they sat across from each other. Candles flickered between them, soft shadows dancing over their features. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him about the trip, her plans, and her concerns, but the words caught in her throat.
At that moment, his phone buzzed. He excused himself, stepping out to the veranda. She watched him leave, the small knot of unease tightening in her chest.
A young man approached her table, his tone casual, but with a hint of boldness. "Can I have your number?"
She shook her head firmly. "No, thank you."
He tried to touch her hand. She recoiled, startled.
Before she could react further, he appeared beside her, calm but dangerous. One swift motion and the man stumbled backward, a bruise forming instantly.
"Stop," she said, rushing to his side. "Please… I hate violence. I hate blood. I save people, not… hurt them."
"You can just use words in place of violence."
He looked at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Why does she care so much about this? he wondered silently. Why does she love people life when I… take it?
She didn't speak of the confusion in her heart. The rest of dinner passed in tense silence. When they returned to their apartment, she stayed quiet, replaying the earlier scene in her mind. She had meant to tell him about the trip's end date, but now wasn't the right time.
Late that night, she noticed he wasn't in bed. The faint glow of his phone lit the veranda. Curious, she crept closer, listening.
"…Mark, capture him… basement… neutralize… do not fail me," his voice was low, precise, and cold.
Her stomach dropped. Mark? Capture who?
Suddenly, she understood, the subtle glances, the protection, the bodyguards. Her heart raced. He… he isn't just a businessman. He's… something else.
She stepped forward. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice shaking.
He turned, startled. Realizing she had overheard, his expression hardened.
"I… I wanted to tell you tonight," he began, voice tight. "Everything. But some things… cannot wait. You deserve the truth."
And then he revealed it.
"I am Leo Alexander Kane," he said slowly. "I am not who you think I am. My life… my world… it's dangerous. I cannot change who I am. My business… it is not like yours. I protect, I control… I kill if necessary. But I swear to you, no one will ever touch you. You will be safe with me."
Her hands trembled. "You… you're a mafia boss?"
He nodded, his eyes softening only for her. "Yes. I cannot leave it. I will never risk your safety or my mission. But you… you are the only one I want in my life. If you come with me, you will be protected. Rest. Heal. And then… one week, I return to what I must do. But this week… is for you."
She shook her head, tears brimming. "No. I… I can't. I can't live in a world where people die because of love. I save lives. You… you take them. I can't be part of this, even for you."
He stepped closer, reaching for her hands. "I cannot change. I can only protect you. I promise, I will never hurt you. I just want you."
She pulled away, voice breaking. "I love you. But this… this cannot be. We are not meant to be. Not in your world, not in mine."
By midnight, she left the apartment silently, taking only a small bag. She left him behind, her heart shattering, her mind made up.
The next morning, he searched all of Switzerland, checking every café, every street, every park they had visited together. All he found was a small note, slipped under the door:
"Thank you for everything. I am leaving. We are not meant to be. I really love you, but I have to say goodbye. Mia."
He clutched it, silent, heart aching. He had wanted her with him, wanted to protect her, wanted their love, but she had chosen safety and her morals over the dangerous path he lived in.
He continued searching, driven by a desperate need to find her, but his heart was heavy and distracted, each thought of her leaving clouded his focus. In the chaos of a rival faction's sudden attack, he was injured, unable to react as sharply as he usually would.
The blows, coupled with his emotional turmoil, caused severe trauma, and he lost part of his recent memories. The snow fell silently over Switzerland, covering the traces of a love that had bloomed too quickly and burned too brightly, leaving only uncertainty and longing in its wake.