That night, kleia couldn't sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, mind racing with thoughts of Vito and the strange connection growing between them.
Around midnight , she heard a knock at the door.
" come in" she said hesitantly.
The door open , and Vito stepped inside. he was dressed casually for once, in the black shirt, you called clearly see his muscular built through his shirt and he was wearing a gray sweatpants, but still, he carried himself with the same commanding presence.
" I couldn't sleep" he admitted, his voice low. " I thought maybe... we could talk"
Kleia set up, surprise by his vulnerability. " what is there to talk about?"
You walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, keeping a respectful distance. " Everything. Anything. I just... I don't want to be alone tonight."
His admission caught her off guard. For the first time, she saw him not as the powerful mafia boss who had taken her, but as a man struggling with his own demons.
Against her better judgment, she nodded. " Okay."
They spend the next two hours talking about their lives. Vito told her stories about his childhood, about the pressure of growing up in a mafia family. Kleia shared memories of her life in Greece, of family, and friends.
By the time the sun began to rise , they were both lying on the bed, their conversation fading into comfortable silence.
For the first time since she arrived , kleia felt strange sense of peace.
