“Of course.” I nod.
His attention leaves me as my head spins. I find my thought patterns becoming oddly worried about her. My initial idea of putting her in the dungeon sounds more and more horrifying when I think about what would happen. I’ll have to crack down on Sofia and make sure she behaves and stays put in my home.
Eventually, Marco dismisses all of us. I make my way through the castle, back to my quarters, wondering how Sofia is faring. Wondering how much fucking drama I can expect from this ordeal. From her. From Marco. Or from her family trying to save her. I resent Marco for choosing me to be the lucky groom in all of this. But the only solace in this situation is—Vincenzo is hurt.
And if he dies. I can become boss one day.
Chapter 9
Sofia
Iturnoffthehot water in the shower. The good cry gave me a cathartic release, and I finally feel level-headed. I step out, wrapping a plush white towel around myself. My surroundings are more luxurious than I’m used to. Obviously, I grew up privileged, but my house still felt like… a house? While here, everything in his bathroom is pristine white marble. The showerhead made it feel like I was standing in a waterfall, and there’s a large tub on the other side of the bathroom.
I wipe the condensation from the mirror to look at my face. My eyes are no longer puffy from crying. Good. I do not want him to see me as weak. I run my fingers through my hair, lightly combing it, and then crack the door open to his bedroom, pleased to see that it’s empty.
I head to the closet where my bright-pink suitcase sits, but I get distracted by all of his things. Everything: his shirts, his pants, his suit jackets—are meticulously organized by type and color. Although most of his wardrobe is black, so maybe I’m giving him too much credit. I open up some drawers, curious if the obsessive organization follows in here. I almost laugh when I see his ties rolled up in a neat array of manly colors. Just to mess with him, I pluck a blue one out and swap it with a red one. Then I swap a dark gray with a different gray one that lacks a pattern—somehow there’s a method to distinguish patterned from plain too.
Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky, and this will give him a heart attack. It could be my chance to escape.
I continue opening drawers mindlessly until I stumble upon his boxer briefs. I slam that shut and then finally move on to opening up my suitcase and grab the first pair of shorts and sports bra I can find—I’m boiling. They don’t have the air conditioning on in this castle.
I leave the bedroom and continue out to the hallway, and I’m surprised I don’t see him waiting for me on the couch or in the kitchen. But I was in the shower for a while, so that gave plenty of time for Marco or something to have called him away.
I take a few steps in the living room.
He’s not even on the balcony. A sense of calm comes over me knowing that I’m free of him, at least momentarily.
But I sense a pair of eyes on me. I turn and see a man I’ve never met before waiting by the door—guarding it.
“Oh!Buonasera,” I greet him, forgetting that I’m not supposed to even say anything to him.
He gives me a quick nod, and it almost seems like he’s looking past me.
“Do you know where Alessandro went?” I ask.
“My instructions were to keep you inside his home and to keep my hands off.”
This guy seems really straight to the point, which I like—Alessandro didn’t find some psycho to guard me when he’s away. Might as well try to get to know him, even if it breaks his stupid rules. I don’t see a problem with exchanging names.
“Got it. I’m Sofia, but I suppose you already know that.”
“Antonio—”
The door opening next to him cuts him off.
Of course, Alessandro is back already.
My heart pounds when his eyes rake over my body. Something is wrong.
I can see his chest heaving as his eyes fixate on my sports bra, and I realize he does not approve of my current outfit.
He continues to stand there in angry silence. He’s out of his suit now and is only in a white t-shirt. I watch his forearms flex, shifting the black tattoo that crawls up his left arm. Alessandro’s attention shifts to Antonio, who is still acting stoic, but I can see underneath that fake layer that he’s terrified.
“Hi,” I try to break the tension, but my voice is so weak I don’t even know if he hears it.
His green eyes flick back over to me. “Hi?”
My mouth goes dry, and I don’t know what to say next. I feel like I’m standing face to face with a rattlesnake. I’m frozen because I know anything I say at all will make this situation worse.
