The Mafia Queen's Obsession

Part 14

Selene's smile remains, though it's a little more wistful now. "Perhaps," she agrees, her eyes flickering for a brief moment to the side, lost in a memory. "But there's no place for weakness in this world. My education was meant to ensure I would never be caught unprepared."

Ayla nods, processing this. "I get it," she says, her voice softening slightly. "You've had to learn a lot of things on your own. I can't imagine what it must have been like." She pauses, considering her next words carefully. "Do you ever regret not having a 'normal' life, though? Not going to a regular school, making friends the way most people do?"

Selene is quiet for a long moment, her gaze fixed on Ayla, and for a split second, Ayla wonders if she's opened up too much. But then Selene speaks, her voice calm and almost philosophical.

"Normal is a luxury," Selene replies, her tone steady. "It's something that most people think they want, but in the end, it's a comfort. A distraction from the realities of the world. The real world doesn't care about your 'normal' life—it only cares about power and survival."

Ayla watches her closely, sensing that Selene is both revealing and guarding parts of herself in equal measure. "So, you've never wanted that kind of life?" Ayla asks, her voice quieter, a little more reflective now.

Selene doesn't answer right away. Instead, she looks at Ayla for a long moment, as though weighing her response. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer, almost like a secret shared only between them.

"Maybe once. But wanting something doesn't change the reality of who you are." She looks away, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps?—passing over her features before it disappears behind the mask she wears. "What about you, Ayla? What's your 'normal' like? Before all of this."

Ayla takes a moment, caught off guard by the question. 

It's rare for someone like Selene to ask about her past, her own experiences.

She glances down at her glass before meeting Selene's gaze again, wondering just how much she's willing to reveal.

"It wasn't anything extraordinary," Ayla admits, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Just school, friends, a family who's not exactly thrilled with my career choice, you know? The usual."

Selene leans back in her chair, a look of mild amusement crossing her face. "A 'normal' life, indeed."

The two share a quiet moment, the weight of their contrasting lives lingering in the air. Ayla feels a strange connection to Selene in that instant—two women caught in a world of danger, but with different paths that have led them to this moment. 

And though they're from vastly different worlds, Ayla senses a shared understanding between them that neither can easily escape.

Selene's voice breaks the silence, her tone almost casual, though there's a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. 

She leans slightly forward again, studying Ayla with an intensity that's hard to ignore.

"What made you a journalist?" she asks, her voice smooth, yet layered with something deeper—an interest in understanding what drives Ayla, what has shaped her into the woman sitting across from her now.

Ayla is taken aback by the question. She hadn't expected to be probed in such a personal way, but there's something in Selene's gaze—something earnest beneath the usual layers of power and control—that makes her hesitate, then slowly open up.

Ayla takes a deep breath, setting her drink aside for a moment as she gathers her thoughts. She's not used to explaining herself like this, not used to opening up about her motivations, especially to someone like Selene. But there's a part of her—perhaps a small part—that feels a sense of trust in this woman, strange as it is.

"I guess it's because I've always wanted to find the truth," Ayla says slowly, her voice softening, almost contemplative. "There's something about uncovering things that others want hidden, exposing corruption, injustice. I grew up watching the news, hearing about all these terrible things happening, and I guess I just felt like... I had to do something about it. I didn't want to just sit back and watch the world go by, pretending I didn't see what was wrong."

She pauses, the weight of her own words settling in. "Journalism gave me a way to chase that truth. To expose it. I don't know if I've ever been good at anything else. And I'm not trying to change the world or anything grand like that... I just want to shine a light on what's buried in the dark."

Selene watches her intently, her eyes calculating yet with an unexpected hint of admiration. She doesn't interrupt, letting Ayla speak freely. When Ayla finishes, there's a long pause before Selene responds.

"Truth," Selene repeats, almost to herself, as though she's mulling over the weight of the word. "You think it's that simple, Ayla? That just because you seek the truth, you'll find it? Or that when you find it, it'll set you free?"

Ayla frowns slightly, not sure what to make of Selene's response. "It's not always simple," she admits. "But I think it's worth looking for. Maybe that's naive... but it's what keeps me going."

Selene's lips curl into a small, knowing smile. "Naivety isn't always a weakness. Sometimes, it's the only thing that keeps you from losing yourself entirely."

Ayla blinks, unsure whether Selene is being cryptic or sincere. "What do you mean by that?"

Selene leans back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considers her answer. "I mean, sometimes you have to hold on to those ideals, those simple things that keep you grounded—like truth, like justice—even when the world around you is a mess of lies and power struggles. Without them, you lose sight of who you are, of what you're fighting for."

Her gaze locks with Ayla's, the intensity between them palpable now. "But be careful, Ayla," Selene continues, her voice quieter, almost warning. "The deeper you go, the harder it becomes to separate the truth from the lies. And once you've crossed that line, there's no going back."

Ayla feels a chill run through her, though she tries not to show it. Selene's words have a weight to them—more than a mere warning. They carry an undertone of experience, of someone who has lived through the very thing Ayla is only just beginning to understand.

"I'm not afraid of the truth," Ayla says, her voice firm, but with a hint of uncertainty creeping in. "I can handle it."

Selene studies her for a long moment, as if measuring her resolve. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, she replies, "We'll see, won't we?"

Ayla's question lingers in the air for a moment before she asks, her voice cutting through the tension, "What are we going to do now?"

Selene doesn't answer right away. Instead, she shifts her position, leaning back slightly, as though weighing her options. 

Then, with an almost careless grace, she stands up and walks toward the bed, dropping herself down onto it, the soft sound of fabric rustling filling the otherwise quiet room.
She stretches out, resting her head on the pillow, her body languid but her eyes still sharp, focused on Ayla.

"I'll go and talk to Leo," Selene says after a moment, her voice almost detached, as if the decision is already made. She turns her head to the side, looking at Ayla with a strange calmness. "He's the one who can help with all this."

Ayla's brow furrows, the name sparking something in her mind. "Who's Leo?" she asks, her voice tinged with confusion. She hadn't heard the name before, but now, it seems important—far more important than she could have anticipated.