Proud of you, Soph.
Now get some sleep
and come see me
tomorrow. That’s
an order.
I smile and type back:
Yes, ma’am.
I scroll to my text thread with Vin, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I should probably delete the whole thing, but instead, I type:
Thank you for
everything you
did for the restaurant.
I’ll make you proud.
I stare at the message for a long moment, then delete it and type:
I hope you are happy.
Delete. Try again:
If you need me—
Delete.
In the end, I don’t send anything. I just lock my phone and set it face down on the table.
Tomorrow I’ll call contractors, start interviewing staff, and begin building something that can’t be taken away by a man who never really wanted me in the first place.
But tonight, I let myself feel the full weight of losing him and grieve the loss of a future I was stupid enough to believe in.
I cry quietly into my hands at my kitchen table, letting the tears run down my face. When they finally stop, I stand up.
Because I’m a Bellamorte, and Bellamorte women don’t stay broken.
49
Vin
The war room, AKA the 17th floor at Dragovari Tower smells like stale coffee and an air freshener that’s making me sick. I’ve got blueprints spread across the table along with charts and notes all cataloging Aurelio’s known locations, his patterns, his weaknesses. Matti’s on his laptop tracking financial movements. Tommy’s on the phone with our contacts at the ports while texting with our hackers.
This is what matters. This is what I need to focus on. Not the way Sophie’s whole face lit up every time I walked in the room. Not the sound she made when she came on my cock for the first time. I slam my fist on the table, making the coffee cups jump. Both my brothers look up.
“What’ve we got?” I bark.
Matti’s eyes narrow. “You good?”
“I’m fine. What’ve we got on Aurelio?”
Tommy sets down his phone. “Three possible locations. The brownstone in Brooklyn, the warehouse in Queens, or the estate in Connecticut.”
