𝟐𝟎 | 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

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"Can we talk?" I asked Leo as I crept into his living room, where he was resting in a chair with hands were outstretched toward the burning fireplace

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"Can we talk?" I asked Leo as I crept into his living room, where he was resting in a chair with hands were outstretched toward the burning fireplace. It was strange to see him in such a simple activity. He looked... human. Vulnerable. Definitely not like the killer he really was.

"No," he said, perhaps too harshly. I raised an eyebrow and Leo's eyes met mine. "No," he repeated, a little softer this time.

"Why not?" I didn't take NO as an answer. To be honest, I was quite surprised by my own voice. I sounded powerful and felt strong again, so it seemed unrealistic to me. Did I rise from the ashes like a phoenix, just because of Otto's pampering? Were the kind words and hugs from my best friend exactly what I needed?

"Because your father wouldn't want me to tell you about it," Leo said with a barely perceptible hesitation. He was thinking about it. But how much? The possibility that he would tell me what he knew could have just flown through his head, or maybe I needed to demand more, and the truth would be out.

I decided to push on him.

"Have you ever wondered what I want?!" I burst angrily. "What did Lucifer promise you that you do as he says, huh?" Leo closed his eyelids with an exasperated sigh.

"He didn't promise me anything. I promised him I'd take care of you while he will be gone."

"But why?" I asked.

"Because...," he began, and I eagerly longed for more words, "because he once helped my father. He saved him, even though he was expected to do the exact opposite."

Leo's answer shocked me. It was strange to hear that my father had saved someone's life, as he was usually taking it from people in cold blood. I felt like a bad daughter. Why was I surprised by the information that my father did something good? Shouldn't your children always see the best in you? If that's really the case, then I've failed to the fullest. Regardless of the love Lucifer gave me, I did not perceive him as anything other than a murderer. It differed from other killers only in that we were connected by the same genes. How was it possible that Leo looked up to him and respected him when I couldn't? Where did I make a mistake?

An unpleasant silence that occurred has suffocated me.

"Why are you so surprised?" he began the conversation again when the silence lasted too long. I knew why. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him. Could I trust him if his loyalty belonged to my father? Would Leo be so mean and reveal to him the secret that was also my fear? The secret, that Lucifer O'Donnell was despised by his own daughter? By me?

I shrugged.

"So, you're trying to get information out of me, but when I ask you something, suddenly you're mute?" Leo said in a normal voice. What does he mean by that? If he gets get angry, I'll never know what I need to. I should surrender to him...

But I didn't want to.

The freedom to do and say what I wanted was all I had now. With my father being around, I could only dream of such freedom but now, that he was gone, I could finally use it. I didn't want to be tamed by someone like Leo. I didn't want to be tamed by anyone, ever again. I'm not a dog to be locked in a cage and to be told when I can go out and bark.

"I'm sorry you're not exactly the person I'd like to have a conversation about my father with," I said annoyed, feeling like I was standing on thin ice that could break at any moment, but at the same time not caring. I didn't intend to wear a collar.

Leo's eyes flashed.

"Your fire will once burn you, Ria O'Donnell," he said quietly, making my lower lip quiver. The way he said my name...did something to me, it made me shiver. His words hit me like a tsunami and swept me to the ground, leaving me completely defenseless. My stubbornness has faded, and I lost my voice, too. I didn't know what to say, what to do. I didn't even notice when Leo got up and managed to stand up behind me. I didn't realize it until his voice rang in my ear. "But it won't be today," he added, placing his hands on my shoulders, which had frozen with fear. With bated breath, I waited for what he would do next. Leo slowly turned me toward him, leaning closer. "You don't even know how much we're alike," he whispered so softly as if he was afraid that his words would lose their meaning if he said them louder.

I was about to protest, but Leo cut me off by squeezing my shoulder. It wasn't a strong grasp; he didn't want to hurt me. It was more like a fleeting, friendly touch. But we are not friends, are we?

"Well, what could the two of us have in common?" he asked rhetorically, and I knew I didn't have to answer because he was going to do it himself. "Apart from the mafia and Lucifer," he grinned, "we find it hard to talk about our parents. I thought it would be you who would listen to me. That you will understand me because you were born in the same fucked up environment. After a long time, I was going to open up to someone, and I didn't want anything from you but to do it too."

I blinked. The light from the fireplace dimly lit the room, where the sunset seemed even more beautiful. Behind the glass wall was a yellow, orange, pink, and purple sky. It was so clear, flawless as if it had been painted by a painter.

Leo sighed, took his arms from my shoulders, and turned to leave.

"It's probably too late, isn't it?" I asked. On the one hand, I regretted being so obnoxious towards him, on the other hand, I knew he was to blame, too. As a result of his dumb demeanor, I thought of him from the very beginning as a conceited materialist, my father's darling. I've never tried to find a resemblance between us before. And now, when I could have finally looked under his hard, bulletproof shell, I messed it up. I could get to know the real Leo. Not the person hiding behind the persona of a cold mobster, just so he didn't have to show the world that he was not happy with himself. Like me. I've tried to run away from who I was, who my father was, and, in fact, run away from my whole family.

Will I ever have the opportunity to get to know him better?

"My sweet Ria," he spoke to me like I was a baby, "it will never be too late for you."

And with those words, he left. He let me stand in the middle of the living room, confused and angry with myself because I had nothing. Neither the answers, nor the real Leo, nor the ability to think logically about something.

 Neither the answers, nor the real Leo, nor the ability to think logically about something

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