Page 14 of Always Mine
Ashorttimelater,I pull into the secret underground carpark reserved for Bella Donna staff and VIPs.
Sophia hums along to another of her favorite songs from our playlist, “Songs to convince Sophia to forgive me”—formerly known as “Missing you”. A playlist I created with songs we loved that summer six years ago, her favorites and ones that made me think of her or reminded me of something I loved about her. If she suspects I’ve been adding to it for years, she doesn’t let on.
She’s more relaxed after dinner, but I can tell by the looks she sneaks at me out of the corner of her eye she still has reservations. About me? About what we could be? Like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’s the one who suggested “speed dating” but I can feel the weight of her unanswered question. The one she didn’t ask but wanted to: “Why didn’t you tell me to stay?”
I’m just hoping my actions give her the answers she needs until the final puzzle piece is in place and I can tell her everything she wants to know. No question.
We head up the VIP elevator to the section reserved for me and Sebastian and our nominated guests. On the same level but elevatedslightly higher is the DJ booth. It used to be my second home in the early days of Bella Donna. A way to kill time and use music to fill the large void I felt. But over the last few years, as Vault Enterprises gained more high-profile clients both onshore and internationally, I took on a partner role and developed the security technology we use. As I said, time was the enemy I needed to fill.
Now I make guest appearances every so often and DJ for our special events. These days, the resident DJ gig well and truly belongs to Trix Six, who is currently keeping this crowd kicking. I’ll take over the decks soon, but all I can think about is the push and pull between me and Sophia. I haven’t so much as kissed her properly yet, but my restraint is free-falling, especially after her thinly veiled comment about me being a master at pushing buttons and the coquettish wink she gave me when she said, “Maybe you’ll have to show me some time.”
“Damn! That was quick—you fly here or some shit?” quips Sebastian, stopping my spiral into thoughts of all the unholy ways I want to push his little sister’s buttons.
He leans in to kiss Sophia on the cheek first before he takes my hand and tugs me in, bumping my chest and giving me a whack on the back in a man hug.
Thumbing towards me, voice dripping in sarcasm, Sophia responds, “I think he’s having some sort of identity crisis—thinks he’s an F1 driver now.”
Sebastian just shares a knowing look with me. He’s no stranger to pushing the limits on the road. The adrenaline rush is like no other feeling. Along with his older brother Raf and younger brother Luca, who’s in fact a professional F1 driver with Black Panther, we often take our toys out for a spin on the open road upstate. Not saying it’s smart, but when you have that amount of power in your hands, it’s hard to fight the urge to fly.
“To be honest, I’m just glad he made it out of dad’s New Year’s Eve party in one piece,” he snickers into his fist and shakes his head.
“I guess news travels faster than my car. Might be time for me to upgrade.”
“Heeeeeyyyyyy sisssy!!” interrupts a tipsy Luca throwing one arm around each of our shoulders as he joins our little reunion party. Eighteen months older than Sophia, Luca could pass as her twin. Sophia is far more fiery and strong-willed than Luca, who is like a playful golden retriever with boundless energy. Yet, given the right situation, I’m certain my girl’s all bark and no bite.
“Where have you been? This set is so freaking good.” He shimmies around us, shaking his shoulders and hips rhythmically. The boy’s got moves on the dance floor and the track.
Currently leading the F1 points board and adored by fans the world over for his fun-loving personality, it’s no surprise he’s got a line of hot little bodies vying to keep his bed warm.
Laughing, Sophia lets him grab her hand and move her to the circle where her best friends Stella and Evie are showing off their own dance moves. When they spot Sophia, they do that thing slightly tipsy girls do—they jump up and down, go in for a long hug which turns into a dance of sorts, loudly compliment each other’s outfits and then hug again to cement the deal. It never gets old watching these three together. They’re all gorgeous, but Sophia is the only one I have eyes for.
I spot Raf sitting on the plush velour couch. I can already tell by his steely expression his father has been in touch. I was surprised he wasn’t there tonight. But I suppose if the event was in honor of introducing his sister to the who’s who of the law world’s fuckwits, he didn’t want to bear witness to that shit either.
As the eldest and heir to his father’s legal empire, he’s closest to Patrick in the sense they share a mutual respect for the law and work together every day. I wouldn’t say his relationship with his dad has the camaraderie or warmth of the one I share with my own dad, but compared to his siblings, it’s the least fractured. They have a mutual understanding and respect, but it mostly revolves around work and doing what’s best for the firm. I doubt Patrick pays attention to what’s best for Raf the man, not the lawyer, and Raf is not one to share his feelings or opinions easily. The less involved he needs to be in family drama, the better for him.
Once Raf made partner earlier this year, I asked him to go over all the legal paperwork for my investment in Joey’s Pizza Parlor. The paperwork is all under a trust name, so it didn’t state AJ’s name anyway, but something tells me Raf did his research. All he said was, “Professionally speaking as your lawyer, this is a sound contract, and everything appears above board. But personally, speaking as your friend, just be careful who you’re getting into bed with.” That’s the first and last we spoke of it. Like me, Raf doesn’t trust easily. He’s one of the few people who plays their cards closer to their chest than me.
Rising from the couch and leisurely walking over to me, Raf claps me on the shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing, brother. Father dearest is about to blow a gasket.” I get the impression Raf is aware of the chemistry between me and Sophia. He’s never tried to stop it, but he’s never given me his blessing either. I love these boys like brothers and as an only child, they’re really the closest I’ve got, so the last thing I want is to jeopardize what we have.
“Would you leave your sister to become prey to the likes of Arthur fucking Bartholomew Jones?”
His expression turns steely, and he locks his jaw in response. “Just be careful. Besides his extracurricular activities, Arty is a more dangerous operator than meets the eye, and he’s got plenty of people in high places fooled.” He zeroes in on me, eyes dark and sharp. “As you know full well, Dad doesn’t play when it comes to Sophia. He wants her full focus to be on making her mark at the law firm.”
I nod in understanding, because I know Raf is nothing like his father, but it irks me they think she can’t make her own decisions.
“Which begs the question, why the fuck he would want her to be with someone like him?”
“I hear you, brother. It’s that old boys’ club mentality of creating powerful alliances. Don’t worry; I’ve got my eyes open. I just want what’s best for her—and you too.”
I know it all comes from a good place, but we didn’t spend the last six years apart just so she could come back and still feel smothered.
“She’s a smart and capable woman, Raf. You all need to trust that she can decide who and what’s best for her.”
“Uh-huh. If not, let me guess? We’ll be dealing with her newly self-appointed guard dog,” he says, smirking at me over the rim of his scotch glass.
“You bet your ass. New year, new me.” I raise my glass and salute him before I make my way over to Sophia.
“I hear you’re adding knight in shining armor to the resume,” shouts Stella by way of greeting when I make it through the crowd of partygoers to where Sophia is dancing with her girls.