Chapter 26 His World Against Mine

Chapter 26 His World Against Mine
She moved nearer, careful, deliberate. Her fingers touched his skin lightly, almost professionally. The contact sent an unexpected awareness through her—warmth beneath her fingertips, the firm lines of muscle she hadn’t meant to notice.
She pulled her hand back for a second and shook her head slightly, as if clearing it.
Focus.
She leaned in again.
The wound was healed. The skin was clean, smooth, no redness, no swelling. But the scar was still there—faint, pale, cutting across his side like a quiet reminder of something violent that had already passed.
Her fingers stilled over it.
This wasn’t like her mother’s surgical scar—planned, controlled, necessary.
This was different.
Without meaning to, the question slipped out.
“What really happened to you that night?”
Leo looked at her.
Olive swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “The night I found you,” she continued softly. “Bleeding… alone… on that forest road.”
She hadn’t asked before. There had never been space for it—her mother’s condition, the chaos, the fear. Everything else had taken priority.
But earlier that day, when she had seen Celeste’s scar, when she had been reminded how fragile the body truly was, the memory came back sharply.
The blood. The silence. The way he had looked like he might not survive the night.
“How did you end up there?” she asked. “Who did that to you?”
The garden went quiet.
Even the small night sounds—the insects, the distant hum of cars—felt muted, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Leo lowered his shirt slowly.
He didn’t look away from her.
“That night,” he said finally, his voice lower than before, “wasn’t an accident.”
Olive’s chest tightened.
“I was ambushed,” he continued. “Someone wanted me gone. Not injured. Dead.”
She inhaled sharply but didn’t interrupt.
"I have enemies, Liv—a lot of them. Maybe it is a part of me that you should be aware of.
Leo’s phone rang suddenly.
The sharp sound cut through the quiet of the night, loud enough to make both of them freeze for a second.
Leo glanced at the screen, and something in his face changed. It wasn’t dramatic—but Olive noticed it immediately. The softness faded, replaced by something guarded and alert.
“I need to take this,” he said, already standing. “Excuse me.”
Olive nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah… sure.”
She stayed seated on the bench as Leo walked a few steps away. He turned his back to her and pressed the phone to his ear. His posture straightened, shoulders tight, as if he had switched into a different mode entirely.
From where she sat, Olive couldn’t hear the words.
But she didn’t need to.
The tone of his voice—low, controlled. The way his jaw tightened. The stillness in his stance.
This wasn’t a casual call.
It was serious.
Important.
Dangerous—maybe.
Is this really what I want? she wondered.
To be with a man whose life might always be like this. Phone calls cutting into peaceful moments. Conversations she wasn’t meant to hear. A world that never truly slept.
She looked down at the ground, then back at Leo.
He was still on the phone, his expression unreadable, the lamplight casting sharp shadows across his face.
Her heart twisted.
Part of her was drawn to him—his care, his steadiness, the way he had stepped in without hesitation when her family needed help the most.
But another part of her was afraid.
Afraid of loving someone who might never be safe. Afraid of a life where danger could arrive with a single ring.
As Leo continued speaking quietly into his phone, Olive stayed where she was, her thoughts tangled.
When Leo returned to the bench, his expression had softened again.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and offered her an apologetic smile.
“Sorry about that,” he said lightly. “It was an emergency.”
Olive’s heart jumped at the word.“You—you can go if you need to,” she said quickly, panic flickering across her face.
“Maybe they need you. I don’t want to keep you if something’s wrong.”Leo let out a quiet chuckle and sat back down beside her. “It’s fine now,” he assured her.
“I already talked to my men. They’ll handle it.”That was it.The word men.It tipped something inside her.Before she could overthink it, the question slipped out—raw, honest, unfiltered.
“What do you actually do?” Olive asked. Then, more carefully, “As… a Mafia.”Leo’s smile didn’t disappear instantly.It faded slowly, like a light being dimmed.
This was the question he had been waiting for.
And at the same time, the one he had been dreading.
For days, he had tried to exist in her world—quiet dinners, hospital corridors, family conversations, gentle touches.
He had let her see the man who could sit beside her and listen, who could worry about her mother, who could smile without calculation.
But this question stood at the edge of all that.The real him.He cleared his throat and met her eyes directly. His voice, when he spoke, was calm—steady.“Are you ready to know?” he asked. “Because if you are… I can show you.
I mean the thing you want to see.”Olive’s breath caught.She held his gaze, but her thoughts raced. Images flashed through her mind—violence, blood, guns, danger.
A life so far removed from hospital wards and quiet nights that it felt unreal.
Was she ready to see the brutal side of him?
To understand a world where problems weren’t solved with medicine and patience—but power and force?She couldn’t answer.