Dark alley

The night air was frigid, wrapping around Violetta she stepped out of the bar after her shift, desperately trying to hail a cab. Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grasp her arm, pulling her into a nearby alley. Confusion washed over her as she turned to face the man, her heart racing—only to realize it was Enzo, her husband, a mafia boss who had been on the run from the police. A rush of relief and joy flooded her as she hugged him tightly, feeling his warmth after two long months apart.

“I just got back yesterday,” Enzo explained, his voice laced with concern. “I had to make sure the police weren’t watching you. I missed you so much, princesa.” Tears of happiness brimmed in Violetta’s eyes as she replied, “Oh, babe, I missed you too. I was so worried about you.” Their embrace deepened, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

But just as their world seemed perfect again,Enzo’s phone rang. His expression shifted as he listened intently to one of his men relay troubling news about a potential traitor among them. “Wait until I get there. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he replied, reluctantly hanging up the call.

Violetta felt the weight of their reality set in as he glanced at her. The understanding in her eyes mirrored the sadness in his; she knew he had to leave, even though it broke her heart. As tears welled up, she leaned in for one last kiss, pouring all her love and longing into that brief moment. Enzo held her close, wiping away her tears with gentle fingers.

“Princess, please don’t cry,” he whispered, his voice tender. “I’ll be back, my love, I promise. Té amo, mi amor. Take care of yourself and our son. Tell him I love and miss him. You both have to be safe. I’ll see you again.” And just like that, he was gone, vanishing into the night.

As she watched him disappear, a deep sorrow enveloped Violetta, but she understood that this was the way it had to be. Eventually managing to hail a cab, she returned home with red, puffy eyes, her heart still heavy. Upon entering, she was greeted by the warm, innocent smile of her three-year-old son. “Mama, I miss you! Why did you cry? Did someone hurt you?” he asked, concern etched on his little face. Violetta couldn’t help but smile despite her tears. “No, baby, no one hurt me. I just saw your papa. He misses you so much and loves you, sweet boy.”

His face lit up with understanding, but he hesitated, asking, “When is Papa coming back home, Mama?” As she looked into his innocent eyes, her heart ached anew. “He’ll come back home soon, my love. We just have to be patient,” she said softly, her own eyes filling with warmth despite the sorrow.

“Okay, Mama,” he replied, offering her a comforting smile as he wrapped his small arms around her. In that embrace, she felt a flicker of hope, holding on to the belief that love would find a way to bring them all back together.

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