The thought makes something violent rise in my chest, dark and absolute.
If she doesn't come back.
I'll burn the world down.
I'd torch everything. The compound, the bratva, every careful plan I've spent eleven years building. None of it matters without her.
My phone sits silent on the nightstand. No word from the driver. No update. Just me alone in sheets that smell like the woman who's remade me into someone I don't recognize.
Someone who would betray his brother's memory. Someone who would kill his own blood. Someone who lies here like a lovesick fool, counting minutes until she comes back.
Come back to me, kotyonok.
Because if she doesn't, if she chooses them over me, I'll become exactly what Kaz predicted. A wolf who abandoned his pack. Meat for the taking.
But worse than that, I'll be a man without his heart.
And that's not survivable.
20 - Sofia
The Rosetti compound smells like garlic and pesto, and for one devastating moment, I forget I’m a traitor.
The driver, Alexei's man, silent as a tomb, brought me exactly as promised and dropped me around the corner. "Midnight," Alexei had said, his lips against my temple, his hands still possessive on my waist from the shower we'd shared. "Not a minute later." The threat and promise in those words follow me up the familiar stone path.
My heels click against stones I've walked since childhood, past the fountain where Alessandro and I once caught fireflies, through gardens where Nico taught me to throw knives by moonlight. Each step feels like walking through a museum of who I used to be: Sofia Rosetti, beloved sister, protected princess, secret weapon.
Now I'm someone else entirely. Someone who woke up wrapped in Russian sheets, marked by Russian hands, carrying Russian secrets I'll never tell.
The front door looms ahead, warm light spilling through windows like honey. Through the glass, I catch movement, shadows of my family living their lives, unaware that I'm about to walk in wearing designer silk that hides the bite marks of their enemy.
My hand rises to knock, but the door flies open.
"SOFIA!"
Alessandro. Of course it's Alessandro, always the first to laugh, to forgive, to make the unbearable bearable. He sweepsme into a hug that lifts me off my feet, spinning me once before setting me down. He smells like that pomade he special orders from Milan.
"Jesus Christ, Sof. When I saw you stride through the gates, I thought I was hallucinating." His green eyes scan my face, searching for damage that doesn't show. "How the hell did you get out? Marco's been planning extraction scenarios for days."
The lie comes easier than it should. "Found a weakness in their security. Third floor, service corridor. I have maybe four hours before they notice."
"And you sneaked out in heels and a gown?" he asks, eyeing me.
I shrug. "Naturally."
"That's my girl." But his eyes narrow slightly, catching something I didn't hide well enough. "You look…"
"Tired?"
"Different." But he smiles, choosing not to probe. That's Alex, he sees everything but picks his battles. "Come on. Maria's been stress-cooking since you disappeared. She'll cry when she sees you."
The warmth of the foyer envelops me: fresh flowers in crystal vases, the lingering scent of Marco's afternoon espresso, the faint sound of piano music from somewhere upstairs. Dante, probably, playing what he cannot say.
"SOFIA ROSETTI!" Maria's voice echoes from the kitchen, followed by rapid Italian that roughly translates to 'too skinny, going to fade away, men don't know how to feed anyone.'
My throat tightens. This is home. Or it was. Now it feels like standing in someone else's life, wearing a skin that no longer fits.
Marco appears in the hallway, and my breath catches. My oldest brother moves with that stillness that made our enemies rename him 'Il Silenzio' before they learned silence could kill. His dark eyes conduct their assessment, studying my posture,my breathing, the way I hold myself. Looking for breaks, for damage, for evidence of what Alexei might have done.
