Lucia appears in the doorway, hands folded, and I frown. Lucia never comes out of the kitchen. “Would you like some breakfast, Vincenzo?”
“Is there any of Sophie’s food left?”
“That’s all gone.”
I stand and run my fingertips over the crisp wool jacket then drape the silk tie, cool and light, over my fingers. “I don’t want anything then.”
Lucia doesn’t move, and I sigh. “What?”
“Miss Sophie would like you to have breakfast.”
I whip toward Lucia. “Is she here?”
She shakes her head. “No. But she would want you to eat before your father’s funeral.”
I sigh again, then turn back to the suit. She would want me to eat. I nod. “Just something quick, Lucia.”
When I’m dressed, I eat standing up at the kitchen island as Lucia arranges a dish towel over my front so I don’t mess up the suit.
Maybe if I say the right things today, if I handle this just right, I can get her back. I don’t know what the fuck that looks like right now, but I have to fucking try.
I’m finishing the espresso when my phone rings.
“Boss.” It’s Grit, Matti’s head of security. I can tell from his tone that it’s bad news. “I did the morning check on Miss Bellamorte.”
I set the espresso cup down. “And?”
“She’s not at the restaurant or the apartment above it. We’ve been here since dawn waiting for her.” He clears his throat. “We saw her out with one of the Irish guys last night. We’re thinking she might have… stayed out last night.”
I look at the wall for a moment. Since dawn and she hasn’t been there the whole time. With Gavin the night before. The news hits me in the chest.
“Alright,” I say.
“You want me to run down her location?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
“Copy that.”
I stand in the kitchen, staring blankly. Sophie in Gavin’s kitchen, cooking for him. Sophie in Gavin’s bed. Sophie waking up with him.
FUCK.
I want to blow off this funeral and go find her myself, drag her out of there, away from him, and end him once and for all.
But that won’t make her trust me.
I yank the dish towel off me and toss it on the counter. Lucia doesn’t look up from what she’s doing and I fix my tie.
My father’s funeral is in three hours. I made the decision not to marry Ashlyn MacCuinn for Sophie, but even if Sophie never speaks to me again, marrying another woman is not an option. I brace myself against the reality that’s coming for me. The consequences of my actions.
So many fucking consequences.
I meant what I said: I need her beside me to do this. The idea of going through this day without her is—
She said she would be there. Would she lie to me? Go back on her word? Not the Sophie I know. The Sophie I know would never tell me no. Her answer to me is always yes.
But maybe it isn’t anymore.
