Page 52 of His Assistant

Rafe sighs. “Then you’ll need to go with her. From the pictures I’ve seen, she’ll need the support.”

“I’m not sure how much support I’ll be to her,” I murmur. “Or how much she’ll let me be.”

We hear the sound of buzzing, and a moment later, Sofia appears in the doorway.

“He called,” she says plainly. “I’m going.”

“We’re coming with you,” I tell her.

She doesn’t argue, probably because she knows there’s no point. We pile into a town car and head toward Queens. Her father’s garage sits in a seedier neighborhood than her apartment. Anyone could have vandalized it, though we all know the truth. Whoever did this was likely the same person who broke into her apartment, the same person who tried to attack my business.

Which means Enzo isn’t just attacking my interests anymore. He’s going after the people I care about too. This can’t continue.

When we pull up to the garage, I see Marco standing inside, hands on his hips just like Sofia. He’s assessing the damage, and even from behind he looks overwhelmed. I hate this. I can’t help feeling responsible.

He turns at the sound of our car pulling up and narrows his eyes. He’s ready for a fight. Sofia gets out first and his face immediately changes from anger to worry. Once Rafe and I step out of the car, his face darkens again.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he screams at me. “This is all your fault! They did this because of you!”

“Dad, stop!” Sofia warns. “They’re here to help.”

She turns to me and I nod. Rafe chuckles, even though it’s completely inappropriate in this moment.

“Mr. Bellini, my name is Rafael Santoro.” Rafe holds out his hand for Marco to shake.

Just like in my office, Marco stares at his hand and doesn’t shake it. Rafe is much more patient than I am. He just closes his hand and smiles.

“Mr. Bellini, we’ll help you however we can,” I promise him.

“There’s nothing to help,” he says, throwing his hands up. “They’ve destroyed everything.”

He walks into the garage and we follow, getting a better look. Every tool chest has been overturned or emptied. It looks like they stole any tool they couldn’t break. The lift nearest the back is wrecked, hydraulic fluid pooling dark on the floor beneath it. The office window is shattered from the inside. We step through to find file cabinets ripped open, invoices and receipts scattered across the floor.

Years of Marco’s life, ruined. We can replace the physical things, but his confidence is shattered. In the fluorescent light of his office, he looks smaller than he did in mine. His face is lined with grief and fury. He may not recover from this.

Over his head, I see a red Vieri business card pinned to the wall with a knife. Sofia sees it a second after I do and gasps. Marco turns around and stiffens. He walks over to it, pulls out the knife, and grabs the card.

“I believe this belongs to you,” he says darkly, handing me the card.

Sure enough, it’s my name on the card. One of my personal cards. Whoever did this wanted Marco to know it’s because of me. They want him to hate me. It all feels so deeply personal.

“Marco,” I say carefully. “I will do whatever needs to be done to make this right. You have my word.”

I expect him to lash out. How could he not? Then he looks at Sofia, and his face falls even further. I turn to her and see the tears running down her face.

“I should have quit,” she says in a small voice. “You wanted me to quit and I didn’t. This is my fault.”

“Sof,” Marco says, but she shakes her head and storms out.

I chase after her, leaving Marco with Rafe.

“Sofia,” I call as she runs out of the garage. “Sofia, wait!”

She turns on me. “He was supposed to be protected!” she screams. “I only took this job to help with his debts. He was never supposed to lose his garage because of me.”

“Nothing is lost,” I say gently. “We’ll help put it back together.”

Her eyes are alight with fury and she steps into my space.