Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
SOFIA
I hurried down the sidewalk, balancing two Starbucks cups while trying not to spill them all over my designer boots. The morning air had a bite to it, but the sun was shining, making it manageable.
My phone sounded off in my pocket. I shifted the coffee cups to one hand and fished out my phone, expecting to see Meredith asking where I was since I was running a few minutes late.
Instead, I froze mid-step when I saw the name on my screen.
Ernesto Savoca.
My uncle. Marco's father.
So he was finally calling back. His name alone had my heart fluttering anxiously.
I wanted to ignore it, to continue living in denial, but I knew that would only delay the inevitable. With a deep breath, I answered.
"Hello, Uncle."
"Sofia." His voice was deeper than I remembered in the last call, or maybe it was just weighted with grief now that he was no longer in shock. "It's time we talked."
I moved to the edge of the sidewalk, leaning against a storefront. "I'm sorry about Marco. I really am."
"Thank you. It has been hard. I'm sorry we couldn't invite you to the funeral. I know how much he meant to you. But the family… we didn't want to cause any unrest." He let out a heavy sigh as my heart dropped.
So I'd not been invited to the funeral. Go figure. But it stung, and tears welled in my eyes.
I'd not even been able to say goodbye to the man who'd freed me. A part of me wanted to scream at him for tearing that chance away from me, but the other part understood. I'd left that life. Why would I be granted the chance to say goodbye when I'd turned my back on them all?
"I understand," I murmured as my shoulders slumped while I blinked back the tears. "You said he was ambushed. By who?"
"It's been handled. We have more pressing matters to discuss."
I closed my eyes. Of course. So much for him grieving, for just reaching out in a familial way. I'd known better. This was no call to fill in the gaps. He wanted something, it was the only reason he'd called to tell me in the first place.
The family needed me. But why? What did he want from me?
"There's a war brewing now, one we need to avert if we can."
The coffee in my hand suddenly felt cold. "What do you mean? What does this have to do with me?"
A sickness was pooling in my stomach, and I prayed my thoughts were wrong.
"The Ference family has been pushing at our territory for some time. Marco was handling it, keeping them at bay. Now they think we're vulnerable after his death."
The Ference family. I knew the name—a newer power in the organized crime landscape, only a few generations old, and they were aggressive and ambitious. Juan Ference had taken his father's small-time operation and expanded it rapidly over the last nine years, his father still calling the shots but letting Juan run majority of things in his place. I'd left just when things had started to get more heated after they'd also moved their operations to Vintmere.
"Did they kill Marco?" I ground my teeth together. It made the most sense, which would mean if he was to ask what I thought he was going to, it'd make it so much worse.
He was quiet for a moment. "No. We thought so at first, but it was another player," he said, his voice heavy now. I almost felt sorry for him. Had Marco's death been by someone small? Someone considered insignificant in our world? Of course that'd upset Ernesto, if his son had died by some simple street thug or even a wronged dealer in our circle.
I shook my head.
Our. It wasn't our circle. It was theirs. I was out.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said carefully, "but I don't see what this has to do with me."
"You're a Savoca." The way he said it made it sound like both a blessing and a curse. "The true heir to your father's legacy."
I pursed my lips, hating where it sounded like this was going. "I walked away from that legacy years ago, Uncle. You know that. I forfeited my place in the family, left Marco in charge."
"And we respected your choice. We let you go to school, become a nurse, play at having a normal life." His voice hardened. "But circumstances have changed. The family needs you now. Marco is dead, and you can end this war before it even begins."
"I can't come back to that life. I won't."
"I'm not asking you to take his place," he said. "I'm asking you to secure our future through a strategic alliance."
I'd not for a second thought it'd be to take his place. I knew better than that. What he was asking was exactly what I'd thought.
"What kind of alliance?" I muttered, already knowing what it was going to be.
"Juan Ference has proposed a solution to our... territorial disputes. A marriage alliance. Between you and him."
My heart thumped loudly in my chest, and my grip tightened on my phone. I wanted to hurl it into the street and scream.
I had never truly been free. I'd been kidding myself all these years, thinking I could walk away. That I wouldn't get yanked back in as soon as I was of use.
But Juan Ference? I knew of him and his reputation. How he abused women. How there was a rumor he'd killed off a fiancée years ago because she tried to leave him. A man like that was not a man I wanted to know. Let alone be wed to.
"You can't be serious."
"I've never been more serious, Sofia. This alliance would end the bloodshed before it begins. It would secure the Savoca family's position for years to come. The territory disputes would be sorted without a single life lost."
"You're talking about my life, about handing me over to a killer, a man believed to have murdered a past partner. There's a reason he's not found a woman." My voice rose, drawing glances from passersby. I lowered it to a harsh whisper. "I have a life, Uncle. A career. Friends. I want no part of it."
"You also have no partner, no serious relationship. I've had you watched, Sofia. There's nothing tying you down."
My heart faltered as a chill swept over me. "You've been spying on me?"
"Keeping tabs. There's a difference."
For how long? How long had he been watching? Since I'd left the family? Or was this a new thing?
"I refuse. Find someone else."
"Sofia, when I said I was asking you, I was being polite," Ernesto said flatly. "You're the only female of the main Savoca line with the right standing. Your cousins don't have the respect that comes with being Antonio Savoca's daughter."
I was to be a trophy then in the Ferences' eyes. That's what he was saying. There'd always been whispers it was either the Malatestas or the Ferences that had killed my father, but they'd never found proof of the exact killer, and no one had claimed it. But it had been awfully odd when they'd also moved their operations to Vintmere after Marco chose to change cities, not wanting to keep struggling for survival with the more prominent Donati, Malatesta, and Lynch families that called Ironstone home.
But there was also Bianca, Marco's sister, Ernesto's only daughter. I'd not been close to her, since her mother, my aunt Julia, had kept her from getting as involved in the family affairs as I had. She'd not wanted her to get close to me, whereas with Marco, she couldn't stop that. Julia had always been unsettled by my father. Understandably.
Then again, her own husband was just as bad.
Perhaps Ernesto had a heart after all, and he didn't want to condemn his own daughter to the cruelty and potential death at Juan's hands. Either that, or it was the more likely option—he'd already promised her to another family. If my memory served me right, she'd be eighteen this year.
"I can't do this."
"You can, and you will." His tone softened slightly, but I knew it was false, meant to reel me in. "Sofia, we let you walk away. We respected your choice to leave the family business. But now we need you. Your family needs you."
I stared hard at the pavement, wanting to run from all of this, to truly be free.
This marriage would avert a war between the families. Stop blood spilling on the streets. As much as I wanted to hate my family, I couldn’t, not all of them.
Bianca and aunt Julia would be caught up in that. Families like the Ference and the Savoca didn't care if women and children got caught in the crossfire. If anything, they'd use them to their advantage.
"You can finally meet Marco's daughter. He married that sweet thing, Cara, remember her? Had a little girl with her, Rosette. She just turned three.”
My heart nearly stopped at his words.
Marco had a daughter? I remembered Cara, a woman he'd been seeing just before I'd left. She'd been sweet, a part of our world but not to one of the big families. She was the daughter of one of the main gun dealers, although she was soft, a rarity in the darkness of our world.
Something Marco had been drawn to.
And now there was a little girl.
How would they be treated now that Marco was gone? Would Ernesto try to marry Cara off as well? She was not a true Savoca, but perhaps it was enough in his eyes and others. His own daughter-in-law, family in his eyes, if you believed he actually cared for her.
"Would you leave her unprotected? Let her grow up in a war between the families?"
I closed my eyes, feeling the trap closing around me. He knew I was soft, that I cared. I had more family than I cared to admit that I wanted to have good lives, like my other aunt, Caterina, my father's sister. She'd always been sweet to my mother and I, and her remaining son was raised well, less cruel than some of the other Savoca men. But he was strong and had a good standing in the family, especially since his father had been a renowned arms dealer turned Savoca.
"This is your duty, your way to protect all those in our family who are not cut out for a war. The Ference alliance will stop bloodshed on our streets. You can't turn your back on that."
Of course he was pulling on my heartstrings, on my empathy. I'd become a nurse to help others, it was obvious I cared too much sometimes.
A blessing and a curse. Definitely a curse right now.
"I..." I what? What could I say to get out of this? To avoid becoming a pawn in his world?
I had nothing, no way out. Running would see me hunted for failing in my duty to the family.
"Take the day to come to terms with it. I'll be in touch tomorrow." His voice shifted, becoming darker. "And Sofia? Don't think about running. We know where you are. We know where you work. Don't try to turn your back on your family again."
My blood turned to ice as I shuddered. "Are you threatening me?"
"I'm reminding you to think of those you love before you make any rash decisions."
The call ended before I could respond.
I stood there, trembling, as the meaning of his last words sank in. He wasn't talking about my blood relatives like many would think, I knew him too well. He meant Meredith. Maybe even Grayson. My newfound friends and family—the people I'd built my new life around.
Going after them would start another war if he did, something else I couldn't risk.
"Fuck." I shoved off the wall, heading for my car as my mind spun and my heart hammered.
Fucking Ernesto. He and my father were the cruelest men in my family that I knew of. They'd been so close until he made a bad call, sending a handful of Savoca men into a trap and getting them killed. Including one of Caterina's sons, my cousin Orlando, and her husband, Gio.
That had sliced a rift between my uncle and father, considering how my uncle had gone against my father's orders for that call.
He'd lost all trust.
Memories flooded back—unwanted and far too vivid as I climbed into my car and gripped the steering wheel.
I stood in my father's study, my heart pounding wildly as Uncle Ernesto and my father stood on either side of me.
"Loyalty means doing the things we need to do for the family, even if they're difficult," Ernesto said, and I stared at the man kneeling before us with his head bowed. "We don't tolerate thieves."
"We protect what is ours, always." My father offered me the gun as my heart caught in my throat.
I didn't know this man, I'd never seen him before in my life. But he'd stolen from us. That's what my father had said.
I was only fourteen, but I'd been running errands for my father, delivering messages, doing all sorts for him. When I obeyed and did as told, I didn't wind up with the punishment of his belt. The few times I'd disobeyed or refused, he'd shown me what that earned me. Not just him though.
Uncle Ernesto had given me orders as well, dangerous ones. And when I'd refused, I'd wound up with two broken fingers.
My father had broken bones as well, but he'd also broken me with words while trying to mold me.
Sometimes, I wasn't sure who was worse out of the two.
"Women are weak, but not you. Not my daughter, right?"
I looked up at my father, the gun still outstretched.
I nodded as I took the gun, finding the weight of it more than I was used to. Marco had taught me to shoot years ago, but I'd never shot anything before. Nothing alive.
"Good." My father nodded before he focused on the man in front of us. "We need to make an example of him."
I knew what those words meant, what he wanted me to do.
But taking a life?
I turned my gaze on the man before me, who was still bowed, unwilling to look at me. I'd seen his bruised and beaten face when I'd first been brought into the room.
He'd never see another sunrise or sunset. Breathe in the scent of flowers, or experience joy and delight. My family wanted this room to be his final sight.
For me to be his executioner.
"Family does what must be done, Sofia. No hesitation." My father stepped closer to me, his presence stilling me even more.
I was a Savoca, a woman willing to protect this family like he'd raised me to do.
Without another thought, I lifted the gun up, holding it with both hands and pulling the trigger without hesitation.
I'd protect my family, as was my duty.
"That's my girl, I'm proud of you." My father smiled as I turned to him, not wanting to look at the slumped body of the man whose name I didn't even know, whose skull I'd just put a bullet in.
It was the first time I'd seen true pride on my father's face.
It was also the moment I began to truly question the Savoca name and everything that had been ingrained into me.
I'd pulled the trigger many more times after that, acting as my father's tool. Dishing out punishment and making examples of him. Every time, he was so proud of me, and a part of me was delighted to have made him proud, a sick, broken, twisted part of me. Until I'd see my mother, and she'd look so broken, so lost. I was torn between two parts of myself, the one who yearned to do right by my family and earn my father's approval, and the part of me that wanted nothing to do with it all.
But I had no choice, it was do as told or be punished, and the punishments had grown more and more severe. The belt and broken bones had turned into beatings and being locked up with no food for days.
Eventually, I'd stopped disobeying or fighting, becoming nothing more than a shell of myself.
Until he'd died. When I'd gotten the call, it was a mess of emotions. Pain and despair at losing my father, but also relief that perhaps I could break free.
Everything had changed after that, and I'd seized the moment to escape with Marco's help.
And now he was gone.
I took several deep breaths, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest. What were my options? Run? Fight? Comply?
Running meant leaving behind everything I'd built—my career, my friends, my home. And based on Ernesto's warning, it would put others in danger.
Fighting? Against the combined forces of the Savoca and Ference families? That wasn't just suicide—it was delusional. I was just one woman. Sure, I could probably try to ask the Donatis for help, we were close, but were we close enough for them to risk a war on my behalf?
Probably not, no matter how much I hoped.
Complying meant sacrificing my freedom, my future, myself. Becoming a pawn in a game I'd spent years trying to escape, becoming the punching bag of Juan Ference, or his next buried secret if I upset him.
My phone pinged, pulling me from my mind. I checked the message from Meredith.
Big line at Starbucks?
Right. I had somewhere I was meant to be. Someone who loved me for me.
I couldn't figure this out right now, nor did I want to. I didn't have many choices either.
I had to pull myself together, at least for now. I'd figure this out later.