Although I was impatient to be with Sofia, to check on her and comfort her and make sure that she understood how vital her safety and happiness were to me, I was stuck in the security room. Or pacing in my study as I spoke with the Rossis. Then waited in my father’s office while spies came to us and discussed what Giovanni representatives were saying.
An official communication had been set up. Roberto had demanded that we meet at his nightclub uptown to discuss the matter of our trespass on his property and the kidnapping of his “beloved” niece.
Half of the efforts were to deny or deflect any wrongdoing. We’d come in there to extract Sofia from the situation she was in too carefully, such that no one could know it was us. Of course, he knew it was us. That I had gone to get her. But he had no proof. No video. No fingerprints. Anything.
His accusation of our trespassing and kidnapping a member of his family was a hefty claim, though, and that was why the Rossis were up in arms.
They’d take any chance to ally with anyone who hated the Giovannis. But letting them participate in this fight would imply future expectations and obligations to repay the favor. My father handled the diplomatic conversations about all that, and I knew that while he wouldn’t renege on accepting Sofia into our family, he wasn’t going to change his “lone wolf” approach to being the boss. We could be friendly with the Rossis, and often were, but letting them fight alongside us was a more significant bond than what we welcomed at the time.
After missing dinner, I gave up. The wait was getting to me. The anxiety of all these plans and decisions wore away at me. My stomach growled. I was starving. All my nerves were shot with the inability to go see Sofia myself and check on her.
I stood and faced Oleg. “Tell the Rossis to stand back.” I turned to Sergei. “Get a crew ready to meet Giovanni at his club.” Facing Roman last, I nodded once. “And start the process of tracking the dispatch to deter any calls to law enforcement.” I rubbed my jaw. “This ends tonight. If Giovanni wants to meet tonight, then we will.”
We could nitpick at this all day and night. But my patience was used up. Fueled by rage and love, I was determined to move swiftly and clear up the obstacles that blocked me from thefreedom of comforting Sofia and talking about our future. One with marriage and a baby on the way. With her going back to school and being a nurse. A scene of trust and love and never having to be apart again.
My father rose too, clearly annoyed with the long day or negotiating, analyzing, and strategizing. “You should relocate her, first. Just in case.”
“I agree.” Keeping Sofia here was ideal. She was surrounded by security. Safe. But shit happened, and with how high the tensions were with the Giovanni threat, it seemed prudent to add another layer of protection. “I’ve already asked to have the safehouse prepared.” I’d chosen the building nearest to this block. Security was already in action, scoping the area and setting up surveillance measures.
“I think Anya and Claire already mentioned the chance of being moved,” he told me as we exited the room together.
“Good. Then she’s got a heads up.” I heaved out a deep sigh.
“Are you ready for this?”
“I’m more than ready to end this.” I cringed. “But I don’t like this suspicion that he won’t show.”
He nodded. “That’s why we’ll have another crew positioned to take him out if he’s hiding.”
While I would hate to miss out on the glory and honor of killing Roberto Giovanni myself, I knew it mattered more that he was dead. We’d get him one way or another before morning dawned.
We parted ways, and I hurried to see Sofia. Claire hadn’t told her to stay in bed with any worry for bed rest, but it seemed that shewas still so exhausted that she’d wanted to lie back and give her body a chance to recover from all she’d endured.
To my surprise, she wasn’t in bed when I entered the room. She was packing a small bag.
“Where are you going?”
She faced me, raising her brows. “To… a safehouse?”
I sighed, going to hold her. The sight of her packing intimidated me.
“Anya texted and said?—”
I kissed her silent, absorbing all the warmth from her that I could. “Yes. We think it’s safer to move you. Just in case.” I waited, watching her expectantly, half-convinced she’d argue.
“Okay?” I asked, arching one brow.
She huffed lightly with a little smile. “Okay? Yes, Andre. It’s okay. It’s more than okay. Whatever you think is best. And safest.”
I held her at arm’s length. “That’s it?”
She shrugged and smiled shyly. “Yeah?”
“You’re not going to give me a hard time about my deciding everything?”
She let out a soft exhale and framed my face. Pulling me in for a delicate kiss, she made me wish that we had all the time in the world to be intimate and affectionate just like this. Right now.
“I love you, Andre, and I trust you.” She swallowed and blushed. “But I’m not going to adopt this bogus idea that it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” she added with a scoff.
