Chapter 12 Sophia
SOPHIA
When Dante helps push my chair in once I’ve taken a seat at the family dinner table, it irks me, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the care he takes, or perhaps it’s the way he pats my shoulder before sitting next to me.
This is the most contact we’ve had since consummating our marriage three days ago. It’s not that I expected anything to change, really. We weren’t going to start sleeping in the same bed or even eating meals together just because we fucked.
That was what we did too. There was no lovemaking.
He took me hard, almost brutally. And what’s even worse than the way he acts like it never happened is the way my body remembers every moment so vividly.
Like right now, for instance, when my core heats up with the slightest thought of that morning while he sits next to me, and I have to pretend I’m not craving his touch.
He makes me feel unwanted, like a useless accessory, and I want him.
What does that say about me? What it says doesn’t matter. Not when it’s time to smile and act happy during family dinner.
The dinner, my beloved husband didn’t even think to tell me about. No, I had to hear from Guilia during lunch this afternoon.
When Dante stopped in at the house for a quick shower before changing his clothes, he blinked at me in confusion while crossing the living room. “I figured somebody else would’ve told you about it,” he said with a shrug, never breaking his stride.
I might as well be back home—overlooked, taken for granted, and ignored except when it’s convenient.
I’m glad for the opportunity to be around people, even if it means playing happy newlywed once again. It’s easier to do it here instead of in a hotel ballroom or country club. I have friends here, too, with Emilia on the other side of the table, and Guilia sitting on my right.
“Papa was saying something about making an announcement,” Guilia whispers once she slips into the chair while their cousin, Francesco, sits across from her.
An announcement? Terrific. Next thing I know, I’ll find out he’s sending Dante and me to dig wells and build hospitals in some remote part of the world, all in the name of improving the family’s image.
Nerves make my stomach churn a little, but I sample a few items from the long platter of antipasto placed in the center of the table while conversation goes on around me.
No matter how welcoming the family is, I’m still the new kid, watching and listening for the most part.
“I have an announcement to make.” Rocco leans forward in his chair at the head of the long dining table, tapping his knife to his water glass until silence falls over the room.
It’s incredible, the way he commands attention even from Cesco, who spends all of his life making smartass jokes but now sits up straighter.
Rocco smiles down the table toward Isabella, seated at the other end.
As usual, they stare at each other like they’re the only two people in the room while my heart twists with faint but persistent jealousy.
“It’s no secret we’ve been burning the midnight oil around here lately,” he begins.
“I’ve put Dante through his paces with good reason.
I’m happy to say he’s given me the confidence to stand by my decision. ”
Dante is sitting on my left, at Rocco’s right. He’s stone-faced when I glance his way. Big surprise.
Rocco continues, “Between now and Luca’s wedding, I will be taking steps to withdraw from day-to-day business activity.
Dante will officially step in for me, as intended.
After the wedding, I’ll be taking my bride on an extended vacation, revisiting the places where we honeymooned.
By then, I expect everything will run smoothly in my absence and going forward. ”
“And that’s it?” Luca is scowling as he looks from Rocco to Dante and back again while Emilia tugs on his shirt sleeve. “You’re stepping down? For real?”
The question isn’t the problem. It’s the way he asked it, full of disbelief and maybe more than a little irritation.
“What’s the matter, little brother?” Dante asks, smirking. “All this time, you’ve told me you’re glad I’m the one with all the responsibility. Don’t tell me you were lying to yourself to get over your jealousy.”
It’s my turn to tug on his sleeve, not that it will make a difference. Luca is pretending not to notice Emilia, and he actually loves and respects her. I might as well not exist.
“Oh, trust me,” Luca replies, wearing a sly grin. “You’re more than welcome to it. I’m concerned about the issues we still have with the Scarpettas and Alessios circling the wagons. Are we in a solid enough position for the family leader to step down? What does that say about our stability?”
My mouth is open, and my tongue is moving before I can think about it.
“It means that instead of letting his ego drive him into holding on longer than he should, your father knows when to step back and feels comfortable doing it because he can trust Dante. This ought to give people more confidence, if anything.”
It’s only once I’ve finished that I realize how silent the room went again.
Now I went and aimed the spotlight on myself. Son of a bitch.
But instead of telling me to mind my own damn business, or worse, Luca tips his chin downward ever so slightly. “Good point.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Rocco agrees, almost boisterously. When he lifts his glass to me, my heart swells a little. “It looks like you’ve been paying attention over the years. You learned a thing or two.”
Yes, and for the first time in my entire life, I’m not being scolded for it. The words come back to me…
“Nobody asked for your opinion.”
“You should know better than to listen in on grown-up talk.”
“Isn’t there something else you could be doing now?”
Every time I would make the mistake of opening my mouth and hinting at a brain in my skull, the same shame would trickle through my veins and make me wish I could blink my way out of existence.
The tension that was starting to build is gone now. Cesco lifts his wine glass, leaning back in his chair while grinning at Dante. “Congratulations, cousin. You have my loyalty and support. I only hope you don’t expect me to kiss your ring.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to kiss my ring,” Dante replies with his own grin. “I had a couple of other places in mind.”
“Dante!” Isabella shakes her head even though it’s obvious she’s fighting a laugh. “How crude. Sophia, don’t you let him get away with that kind of talk.”
It took me weeks to get the man to have sex with me, and we’ve barely spoken since. I’m supposed to control his language?
Everyone else is laughing and teasing, meaning they don’t notice the voices and footsteps in the hall right away.
But I do. One of the guards I usually pass on the path leading up to the main house pops his head into the doorway, his narrowed eyes seeking Rocco. He crooks a finger before disappearing.
And I forget to breathe because Rocco is right, I’ve been paying attention my whole life.
And a guy in that guard’s position doesn’t order his boss around without saying a word unless something serious is going down.
The men who were posted at the corners of the dining room follow him, moving swiftly.
“Something’s wrong.” So Guilia pays attention too. That’s no surprise. She’s razor sharp. Anyone stupid enough to take her at face value would deserve the consequences that followed.
Before I know it, my hand is firmly tucked into hers, and she is pulling me out of my chair, not that I’m offering any resistance. “Where are you going?” Isabella asks, just as confused and concerned as anyone else.
“Whatever it is…” Dante announces, already walking ahead of me, “… leave it to us.”
“You mean leave it to the men?” Guilia scoffs. She expresses withering disdain by rolling her eyes. “I’m only curious.”
I’m curious, too, and even more curious about the way Dante and Luca both left the table without saying a word to each other, dropping their napkins on their chairs and almost jogging out of the room.
We follow them as far as the hall before Dante gives us a single, foreboding look over his shoulder.
I’m not someone who likes to be told what to do, but it occurs to me now that this might be something Giulia doesn’t need to see or hear.
“Hang on a second.” Instead of letting her drag me down the hall, I spot a small, white envelope on the floor and can’t help but pick it up.
I’m careful, though, handling it by the corners, even if I doubt there could be anything all that dangerous inside.
It’s the kind of tiny card that comes with a flower arrangement.
While Guilia watches, I carefully ease the card out far enough to read it.
It’s plain, with no markings to tell where or who it came from.
Congratulations to the happy couple.
Remember: I’m always watching.
And underneath that, a single letter—a capital A.
A strangled, surprised cry from inside Rocco’s study makes us both look toward the open door up ahead. Guilia lunges like she’s ready to run, but something stops her.
“I don’t think so, kid,” Cesco grunts, shaking his head, one hand wrapped around her arm.
“Let go,” she grunts. I watch as his grip tightens before he shakes his head.
He might be able to tell her what to do, but I’m free to walk down the hall with my heart in my throat. It can’t be Alessandro, but then who else could it be? What did he send? I’m not sure I want to know, but at the same time, I have to. I might end up regretting it, but I have to see.
“Did it come with a card? Do you know who sent it?” It’s Luca’s voice, and it’s filled with disbelief. How bad does it have to be for him to sound that way? I’m more nervous than ever, but force myself to take one step at a time until I’m in the doorway, holding up the card.
My voice shakes when I announce, “Here. It was on the floor.”