Mafia Lord's Mute Sweetheart

Chapter 92: Chapter 92 Light sensitivity

Rafael stretched his arms above his head and glanced at his brother. "Bro, what’s going on? You’re wearing sunglasses today? That’s not like you."

Alessio’s jaw tightened slightly. His gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he considered how to answer.

"I don’t like too much brightness," he said flatly.

Rafael snorted. "Brightness? The sun is literally setting. It’s almost dark. The sun is barely a memory at this point."

"Light sensitivity."

"You’ve never had light sensitivity."

"It’s new."

Rafael turned in his seat to look at Daisy, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "He’s lying. He’s definitely lying. He’s probably just trying to look mysterious and cool. Classic Alessio move."

Daisy’s lips twitched. She watched the exchange, her hands clasped in her lap, her fingers lightly intertwined. The playful bickering between the brothers felt warm and cute.

Alessio’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Rafael."

"Yes, bro?"

"Shut up."

Rafael laughed, clearly enjoying himself. "See, Daisy? This is what I deal with every day. Brooding and silence. I don’t know how I survive. It’s a miracle I’m still sane. The man has the emotional range of a brick wall, but I love him anyway."

Daisy laughed silently, her shoulders shaking. She pulled out her phone and wrote a quick message. She held it up so both of them could see.

I like the sunglasses. They look cool.

Alessio’s eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. He caught her gaze for just a moment. Something softened in his expression, barely noticeable.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Rafael let out a dramatic groan. "Oh, so she says they look cool, and now you’re suddenly okay with compliments? I tell you you look good every day, and you tell me to shut up. I see how it is. I see who the favorite is. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve never been more fine."

Alessio ignored him gracefully.

The car settled into a comfortable silence as it moved smoothly through the busy streets. Daisy rested her head lightly against the glass, quietly watching the city pass by.

After a few minutes, she lowered her gaze and unlocked her phone. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen before she gently tapped Rafael’s shoulder from the back seat.

When he turned around, she held up her phone.

Can you stop by a stationery shop? I need to buy something.

Rafael read the message and smiled. "Of course." He turned toward the driver’s seat. "Bro, can we stop at a stationery shop for a few minutes?"

Alessio didn’t even ask why. He simply gave a small nod. "Fine."

A few minutes later, the black car pulled over beside a small neighborhood stationery store tucked between a bakery and a flower shop. The storefront was cozy, with a wooden sign hanging above the door and pots of colorful flowers lining the entrance. The scent of freshly baked bread and blooming roses drifted through the air.

Alessio parked the car smoothly.

Daisy smiled gratefully toward both brothers before stepping outside. She gave a small bow before walking toward the shop. Her lavender dress swayed gently around her knees, and the soft breeze caught a few strands of her caramel hair, lifting them like silk ribbons.

Without saying a word, Alessio got out of the car and followed her.

Inside the vehicle, Rafael didn’t follow them, giving them time alone.

❀┈┈┈┈❀

The little stationery shop felt warm and cozy. Wooden shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, neatly filled with colorful notebooks, pens, stickers, bookmarks, journals and tiny decorative items.

A faint scent of fresh paper mixed with coffee drifted through the air, creating a calm and inviting atmosphere. Soft music played in the background, a gentle melody that seemed to float through the space like a whisper.

The elderly shopkeeper looked up with a welcoming smile.

"Good morning."

Daisy smiled back before opening the notes app on her phone. She typed a message and held it out.

Could you please show me some portable journals or notebooks?

The shopkeeper read the words. His smile softened. Then he noticed she hadn’t spoken a single word. Understanding dawned on his face.

Poor child...

Without saying anything about it, he nodded kindly. "Of course. Right this way."

He led her toward a shelf filled with beautiful journals of every size and color. There were leather-bound journals with stunning designs, simple minimalist notebooks in muted tones, cute pastel covers decorated with tiny flowers and others carrying motivational quotes written in elegant golden letters.

Alessio quietly followed a few steps behind with his hands in his pockets. His tall frame seemed to fill the space, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the window behind him. The gray turtleneck stretched across his chest, hinting at the powerful muscles beneath.

Daisy’s eyes sparkled as she looked over the collection. Her fingers hovered uncertainly over them, unable to decide. She bit her lower lip, a small, unconscious habit that made her look utterly adorable.

Should I choose a cute one... or a motivational one?

She couldn’t decide.

Just then, a deep voice spoke beside her.

"This one looks good."

She turned.

Alessio had picked up a notebook with a soft pastel orange cover. It was simple yet elegant, with tiny white daisies pressed into the design and smooth cream-colored pages inside. The color seemed to glow in the warm light, soft and delicate, like a sunset captured on paper.

He held it out toward her.

"The color suits you."

For a brief moment, Daisy simply stared up at him. Then her eyes slowly curved into a gentle smile.

She accepted the notebook with both hands and hugged it lightly against her chest. The cover was soft and smooth beneath her fingers.

It really was beautiful.

Alessio stood quietly beside her, his gaze drifting over the neatly arranged shelves. Although he had never paid much attention to stationery before, he found himself unexpectedly patient, waiting while Daisy carefully examined other books. He noticed the way her fingers traced the spines, the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her lips curved when she found something she liked.