Page 83
Story: His
I felt a surge of pride, a fierce satisfaction that this woman—this brave, unyielding woman—was by my side. She wasn’t just surviving; she was thriving, showing me that she had the strength to stand beside me in every storm, no matter how brutal.
She belonged with me.
There was only one thing that could get in my way.
Her father.
CHAPTER 26
One week later
Sofia
News of Raffaele Moretti’s death rippled across Italy like a shockwave, dominating headlines from Rome to Palermo, with every media outlet spinning their own theories about the high-profile assassination.
Speculation ran wild, with most reports linking the murder to a violent escalation in organized crime, pointing fingers at various rival families jockeying for power in the shadowy underworld. Yet, despite the bold headlines and relentless coverage, the investigation quickly hit a wall; no concrete leads surfaced, no suspects were officially named, and the stories on the streets were leading to nothing but dead ends.
But I wasn’t worried about any of that tonight.
Tonight was about Massimo and me.
The entire room smelled like heaven—roasted garlic, fresh herbs, a hint of truffle oil. Alonzo had outdone himself. I speared a parmesan spinach ravioli with my fork and swirled it in the truffle sauce before putting it in my mouth, groaning as the flavors exploded over my tongue.
Massimo sat across from me, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his tie slightly loosened as if he was trying to relax. But I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders were tight, the way he swirled his wineglass without really looking at it. His mind was somewhere else, far away from this quiet, private dinner between the two of us.
“Are you even tasting any of this?” I teased, reaching over to steal a bite from his plate. “Alonzo might cry if he sees you ignoring all of his hard work.”
Massimo looked up, his eyes softening a little as he met my gaze. “I’m tasting,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual confidence.
“Liar,” I replied, smiling as I chewed. “You’re brooding again.”
He sighed, setting his glass down and leaning back in his chair. “I can’t help it,” he admitted, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “I can’t help but think about your father. I’m supposed to be protecting you, Sofia. But instead, I’ve dragged you into this mess and I’m going to have to explain that to him.”
Ever since that night on the road with Raffaele, he’d been tense. I know the police had talked to him, but I hadn’t been brought in for questioning, at least not yet. Leo and Stefano had insinuated that there had been some interest in me, but nothing had surfaced yet.
Whatever it was, I would deal with it when the time came.
I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand, watching him closely. “I’m not scared,” I said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
He shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “You should be scared,” he muttered. “This isn’t your world, Sofia. It’s dangerous, it’s unpredictable… and I don’t want you to end up paying the price for my decisions.”
I could see the conflict in his expression, the guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. It was almost… endearing, watching this powerful man wrestle with his conscience, torn between wanting to keep me safe and knowing that I was already too deep to turn back now.
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, my tone light, but my eyes serious. “Is that what you’re saying, Massimo?”
His head snapped up, panic flashing across his face. “No,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “No, of course not. I just… I don’t want you to regret being here. To regret being with me.”
I smiled, standing up slowly and moving around the table to his side. “What’s the alternative?” I asked, letting my fingers trail along the back of his chair. “You want me to go back to school, get a business degree, and work in marketing?” I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Is that what you want, Massimo?”
He chuckled, the tension easing just a little as he looked up at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You? In marketing?” he asked, his tone teasing. “I don’t think that’s you,la mia bella.”
I moved closer, letting my hand drift to his shoulder, feeling the strength in his muscles beneath the crisp fabric of his suit. “No,it’s not,” I agreed, my fingers sliding down his arm, tracing the lines of his sleeve. “And you know it. I’m in your world now, Massimo. I’m not going back to anything else.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with a mix of desire and frustration. “Sofia…”
I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. “What do you really want?” I whispered, my hand slipping down to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. “I’m not some delicate flower that needs protecting. I want this. I want you.”
He groaned softly, his hands finally moving to my waist, gripping me tightly, as if he was trying to hold on to some semblance of control. “This is dangerous,bambina,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.
She belonged with me.
There was only one thing that could get in my way.
Her father.
CHAPTER 26
One week later
Sofia
News of Raffaele Moretti’s death rippled across Italy like a shockwave, dominating headlines from Rome to Palermo, with every media outlet spinning their own theories about the high-profile assassination.
Speculation ran wild, with most reports linking the murder to a violent escalation in organized crime, pointing fingers at various rival families jockeying for power in the shadowy underworld. Yet, despite the bold headlines and relentless coverage, the investigation quickly hit a wall; no concrete leads surfaced, no suspects were officially named, and the stories on the streets were leading to nothing but dead ends.
But I wasn’t worried about any of that tonight.
Tonight was about Massimo and me.
The entire room smelled like heaven—roasted garlic, fresh herbs, a hint of truffle oil. Alonzo had outdone himself. I speared a parmesan spinach ravioli with my fork and swirled it in the truffle sauce before putting it in my mouth, groaning as the flavors exploded over my tongue.
Massimo sat across from me, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his tie slightly loosened as if he was trying to relax. But I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders were tight, the way he swirled his wineglass without really looking at it. His mind was somewhere else, far away from this quiet, private dinner between the two of us.
“Are you even tasting any of this?” I teased, reaching over to steal a bite from his plate. “Alonzo might cry if he sees you ignoring all of his hard work.”
Massimo looked up, his eyes softening a little as he met my gaze. “I’m tasting,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual confidence.
“Liar,” I replied, smiling as I chewed. “You’re brooding again.”
He sighed, setting his glass down and leaning back in his chair. “I can’t help it,” he admitted, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “I can’t help but think about your father. I’m supposed to be protecting you, Sofia. But instead, I’ve dragged you into this mess and I’m going to have to explain that to him.”
Ever since that night on the road with Raffaele, he’d been tense. I know the police had talked to him, but I hadn’t been brought in for questioning, at least not yet. Leo and Stefano had insinuated that there had been some interest in me, but nothing had surfaced yet.
Whatever it was, I would deal with it when the time came.
I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand, watching him closely. “I’m not scared,” I said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
He shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “You should be scared,” he muttered. “This isn’t your world, Sofia. It’s dangerous, it’s unpredictable… and I don’t want you to end up paying the price for my decisions.”
I could see the conflict in his expression, the guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. It was almost… endearing, watching this powerful man wrestle with his conscience, torn between wanting to keep me safe and knowing that I was already too deep to turn back now.
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, my tone light, but my eyes serious. “Is that what you’re saying, Massimo?”
His head snapped up, panic flashing across his face. “No,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “No, of course not. I just… I don’t want you to regret being here. To regret being with me.”
I smiled, standing up slowly and moving around the table to his side. “What’s the alternative?” I asked, letting my fingers trail along the back of his chair. “You want me to go back to school, get a business degree, and work in marketing?” I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Is that what you want, Massimo?”
He chuckled, the tension easing just a little as he looked up at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You? In marketing?” he asked, his tone teasing. “I don’t think that’s you,la mia bella.”
I moved closer, letting my hand drift to his shoulder, feeling the strength in his muscles beneath the crisp fabric of his suit. “No,it’s not,” I agreed, my fingers sliding down his arm, tracing the lines of his sleeve. “And you know it. I’m in your world now, Massimo. I’m not going back to anything else.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with a mix of desire and frustration. “Sofia…”
I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. “What do you really want?” I whispered, my hand slipping down to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. “I’m not some delicate flower that needs protecting. I want this. I want you.”
He groaned softly, his hands finally moving to my waist, gripping me tightly, as if he was trying to hold on to some semblance of control. “This is dangerous,bambina,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.
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