I watch Marina wipe tears from Sophia's face with a tenderness that makes something twist in my gut. This is what Sophia needs. Not me and my complications, not this world of violence and arrangements. She needs her friend.
But she can't have normal anymore. That ended the moment Francesco decided to sell her to the Russians.
"You had a backup plan," Dante says. It's not a question.
"Always do." I pull out my phone, showing him the tracker I had ready. "If Marina hadn't come willingly, you were going to her apartment."
"To convince her."
"To bring her. One way or another." I pocket the phone.
I sink into my desk chair after Dante leaves, eyes still on the monitor.
Vittoria's words from yesterday echo in my head. She'd cornered me in the kitchen at the compound, that look in her eyes that meant she was about to say something I didn't want to hear.
"She has no one, Lorenzo. No one." She'd set down her coffee with enough force to make her point.
"She's protected."
"She's alone." Vittoria had tilted her head, studying me. "When Papa died, I had you. I had Pietro and Riccardo and Nico and Bruno. Even when it hurt so much I couldn't breathe, I had family. Who does she have?"
I'd walked away from that conversation, but her words stuck.
The truth is, I know what isolation does to a person. After Luna, I tried it. Cut myself off from everyone except business associates. Pietro and Riccardo dragged me back, literally sometimes. Showed up at my apartment at three in the morning with a bottle of grappa and wouldn't leave until I talked. Nico would appear at my restaurants, plant himself at the bar, and wait me out. Even Bruno, would text me stupid memes until I responded.
They wouldn't let me disappear into my own head.
I watch Marina reach across the table to squeeze Sophia's hand, and I know that this is what Sophia needs. Someone who knew her before.
My phone buzzes. Pietro.
"Where are you?"
"Rosso's. Handling business."
"The Torrino girl?"
"Among other things."
There's a pause. Pietro's calculating, weighing whether to push. "Francesco's going to make his move soon."
"Forty-three hours left on the deadline."
"He won't wait that long."
"I know." I lean back in my chair, still watching the monitor. "I've got eyes on him."
Two hours pass. I've reviewed the security footage three times, checked the restaurant's books twice, and still my eyes drift back to the monitor showing Sophia and Marina at their corner table. They've moved from tears to quiet conversation, Marina's hand never leaving Sophia's across the table.
Marina left five minutes ago and I'm now scrolling waiting for Sophia to come whenever she's ready.
The knock on my office door is soft, almost hesitant.
"Come in."
Sophia enters, closing the door behind her. Her eyes are red-rimmed but brighter somehow, like crying washed something clean. I stand, reaching for my jacket on the back of my chair. Time to get her back to the compound before Francesco decides to do something stupid.
But she doesn't stop at a polite distance. She keeps coming, crossing my office with purpose until she's right in front of me.
