"Thanks, Roger, for showing around. I know I’ve taken up a lot of your ti," Varya said, unfastening her seatbelt.
Roger offered a small smile, his hands still resting on the steering wheel. "You were our guest here. It was my responsibility to make sure you had a good ti."
Varya turned to look at him, warmth in her eyes. "Still, I appreciate it. You’ve been really kind."
Roger nodded his head. He was curious to learn what she told Sylvia, but he couldn’t bring any word related to that matter to his mouth.
"Do you want to say sothing to ?" asked Varya. "You can say it. Is it about Sylvia?"
Roger’s brows furrowed in mild surprise. How did she know?
As if reading his thoughts, Varya continued, "I t Sylvia and told her about how you all avenged her brother’s death. Matteo always kept things from her, and because of that, she turned out the way she did."
Roger exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You shouldn’t have told her, Varya. We purposely kept her in the dark about Matteo’s death. The boss wanted to talk to her himself after he returned from his trip."
"I am sorry. I didn’t know," Varya said sincerely.
"It’s fine," Roger sighed. "I can’t talk to Sylvia—she gets angry every ti we see each other. But I’m sure Boss will explain things to her."
"I hope so," Varya replied in a thoughtful gaze. "From what I’ve observed about Sylvia, she feels betrayed for being kept in the dark. She believes she should have known the truth from the start. Handle her delicately, Roger. She carries traumas she hasn’t been able to overco all these years."
Roger absorbed her words, nodding slightly. "Yeah... I know. But I cannot handle her," he clarified to Varya.
He ran a hand through his hair, realizing that no matter how much they had tried to protect Sylvia, it had only made her feel more alone and madder at him.
Varya raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by Roger’s sudden confession. She had expected their conversation to remain about Sylvia, not take a turn toward him.
"You two seem to have many complaints with each other," she had remarked.
"She is the mistake I never should have made. I an... I gave my heart to her only to receive humiliation in return," Roger admitted. He turned his head to look at Varya, as if searching for understanding.
"Hmm. We all make mistakes," Varya said, choosing her words carefully. "But I do hope you find soone better."
A mont of silence stretched between them before Roger took a deep breath, gathering his courage.
"Can’t you give a chance?" he asked. "I know you don’t like yet, but I think you can try to know ."
His heart pounded against his chest, anticipation mixing with the fear of rejection. He wasn’t sure what answer he was hoping for—but he knew that letting this mont slip away without trying would haunt him.
Varya tilted her head slightly, studying Roger with curiosity. "Why do you like ?" she asked.
Roger didn’t hesitate. "I won’t lie—the first ti I saw you, I was drawn to your beauty. But the second ti, it was different. It was the way you handled yourself in a fight, how fearless and composed you were. Then, as I got to know you, it was your sharp mind, your unwavering sense of justice, the way you never back down. Every ti I saw you, I admired you more." He exhaled softly before adding, "I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I know one thing for sure—you would never regret choosing ."
A small smile graced Varya’s lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "If I say yes, will you co to Russia with ?" she asked. "You’d have to leave your boss, your people, and everything you’ve built here. Because if you think I’ll move to Italy, you’re wrong."
Roger’s brows knitted together. "Why? What’s wrong with Italy?"
"It’s not my ho," Varya replied simply, as if that was all the reason she needed.
Silence stretched between them. Roger ran a hand through his hair. "I can’t leave this place forever," he admitted. "Seems like we already have different paths ahead of us."
"Yeah," Varya murmured. "So let’s not force sothing that’s already at odds. If we keep pushing, it’ll only lead to heartbreak—for both of us."
Roger bit his bottom lip. "So, you’re rejecting again?" He turned his head toward her, searching her face for any hesitation or any doubt.
"That’s the only way to keep things from turning bitter," Varya answered.
Roger clenched his fists for a mont before relaxing them. "Aren’t you afraid?" he asked. "The mafia world is dangerous. It can consu you. Don’t you ever want to leave it behind? To live a normal life?"
Varya’s smile faded. She turned away slightly, her gaze distant. ’A normal life.’ The words felt foreign, almost like a dream she had once entertained but never truly believed in.
"Roger, you are nice man, but you shouldn’t think I can fit in your world. At the sa ti, you are too fragile for my world. I am leaving for Russia tomorrow. Thank you for everything you’ve done so far for ," Varya stated. She opened the car’s door and shortly disappeared from her sight after entering the hotel’s entrance.
Roger leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "It’s my destiny to get rejected. But I am happy she didn’t make fun of my feelings and stayed truthful," he murmured. He started the engine and drove back to his ho.
Entering the passcode on the door, he walked in and went straight to the kitchen. He filled a glass of water for himself and drank it. Lowering the glass to the sink, he felt a bit upset. "It’s ended before it could even start. I think I’m just unlucky in love." He rested his both hands on the countertop and sighed.
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