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"Have you ever found anything that could contradict the official story or any reason for her to...?" I ask gently, trying to be as supportive as possible.
He shakes his head, frustration creeping into his expression. "No, not really. But I can't shake this feeling that there's more to it, that there's something the mafioso is not telling me."
My hand reaches out instinctively, covering his. My mind feels like splitting. Here I am, listening to Dario, desperate to uncover his family’s secrets, while I am carefully guarding my own.
Seeing him in this much turmoil forces me to use all my self-control not to phone Elena on the spot, demanding that she harness agency resources to help Dario figure this out. A wave of compassion floods through me.
"Dario, it's understandable that you have doubts and suspicions. Losing someone you love unexpectedly like that can make it hard to accept, especially when the explanation doesn't feel right."
He looks down at our entwined hands, a small smile playing on his lips despite the heaviness of the conversation. "You always know what to say to make me feel better, Jasmine. It's just... I can't help but think there's some connection between my mother's death and my father's actions."
"Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together," I assure him, my voice filled with determination. "We'll find the truth, no matter how hard it may be to uncover."
"Thank you, Jasmine," Dario says, his voice softening. "Your support means everything to me. I just hope that when we find the truth, it doesn't lead to even darker places."
My heart breaks for this man. I squeeze his hand, and he looks into my eyes. “Even if it does lead you to darker places,” I mutter. “I will be there to help you see the light. You’re not alone, Dario.”
These are not just words, I need him to know that. I need him to feel that. He doesn’t say a word, and I whisper, barely out loud. “Sometimes, darker places are just a blessing in disguise for you to find the people who truly care about you.”
"Jasmine," he begins, his voice gentle and hesitant. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Finding my mother's diaries today, seeing the secrets she's kept, even from my father, makes me wonder if it's wiser to speak from the heart or to let your sentiments die with you."
I take a slow sip of my coffee, trying to steady my racing heart as I wait for him to continue. "Speak from your heart," I urge him.
"Ever since we first met, I've felt this... connection with you. Something I can't explain." He pauses, his fingers tapping nervously against the table. "But, there's also a part of me that feels... lost."
“Lost?” I inquire.
“Lost in knowing if I am worthy of you,” he mutters. “I’ve never seen love between my parents. I don’t know if I can be the man worthy of a woman like you. I don’t have anyone who played an instrumental role in modeling what a great romance is and sometimes, I feel lost not knowing if I’m doing right by you.”
“Oh Dario,” I whisper, touched by his words. “Dario, sometimes knowing what you don’t want is enough towards getting what you do. You don’t want a relationship like your parents and that is enough.”
“I haven’t failed you?” he asks.
“Not as yet,” I shake my head, giving him a little smile. Meanwhile, in my head, the voice of guilt is screaming at me, telling me I’ve failed him by establishing a relationship based on a lie. I’m a spy, and he… he is being honest.
My chest tightens as my mind drifts back to my past, thoughts of the life I left behind making my breath hitch. I want to tell him everything – about my real name, my family, how the mafia killed my sister and how my thirst for revenge brought me to Rome.
But at the same time, I can't bear the thought of the consequences it might bring, both to him and to the delicate bond growing between us.
And in that moment, the promise I make to myself—to reveal my true identity to Dario when the time is right—feels more urgent than ever. But first, we need to uncover the truth about his father's hidden secrets and navigate the treacherous waters of the Mafia world that surrounds us.
"Have you ever been close to having a kind of family you'd like to build for yourself, Jasmine?" Dario asks, his voice laced with curiosity and concern.
My throat feels dry, the words sticking as I try to answer him. "Not really," I admit finally, my voice shaky. "But I've come to learn that sometimes, family isn't just about blood. It's about the connections we make with others, the bonds we forge through shared experiences and trust."
"Like us," he murmurs, his gaze warm, full of understanding. And in that moment, I realize just how much I want to be honest with him, to share my whole self with this man who has captured my heart so completely.
"Like us," I echo, feeling the weight of those words – and the truth still unspoken between us – settle heavily in my chest.
Dario's thumb traces small circles on the back of my hand, his touch a comforting presence as we share this moment. I can see the hope in his eyes, mirroring my own, and I know that our connection is growing stronger by the day.
But the truth about my past remains a landmine, buried just out of sight, threatening to blow apart everything we're building together. As much as I want to protect him from it all, I can't ignore the growing certainty that he deserves to know who I really am.
"Jasmine," Dario says softly, breaking me from my thoughts. "I'm grateful every day for your presence in my life. I don't know what I would do without you."
I don’t respond, a slow lump forming in my throat. I feel like a traitor. How can Dario be falling for me, when he doesn’t even know who I am? Tears well in my eyes and I look down and close my eyes while taking a few deep breaths, hoping he doesn’t notice the well of emotions threatening to spill over.
Fortunately, he doesn’t because when I look up, he breaks into a big smile.
