Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
GRAYSON
S omething was wrong. I felt it in my gut.
I tapped an impatient finger on my leg as my driver went over the speed limit as requested. I needed to get to Sofia's, now.
My phone rang, Leo's name flashing on the screen.
"Gray, you need to know something," Leo's voice was tight, controlled in that way that meant trouble. "Ernesto Savoca is there. Right now, I'm looking at him on the security feed."
My heart skipped a beat as I focused on the road ahead, cursing the traffic at this time of day. "What the fuck is he doing at her place? Is Meredith there?"
"I don't know, and yes. She's heading out the back door by the looks of it. But Gray, think this through. If Ernesto's there?—"
"I'll handle it, I'm nearly there." I cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever caution he was about to advise.
I hung up before he could argue, muttering as I flicked through my contacts.
I called Meredith instantly, and she answered on the second ring.
"Mer, are you out of Sof's safe?" I asked first and foremost.
"Yes, I'm getting into the car with Jackson. Wait, safe, do you?—"
"I know Ernesto is there. I'm nearly there."
"Gray, maybe you should?—"
"Meredith, I need to find out what's going on, I'm not thinking things are good with what I've learned lately," I cut her off.
"They aren't, and she was going to call you to talk," she said, her voice strained.
"Why? What do you know?"
The pause on the other end was heavy. "I think it's better if you two talk. It's between you both, I know you two are close, she told me."
So Sofia had told her about our time together?
"What did she tell you?" I asked again, refraining from shouting at her for answers.
"She'll tell you. But maybe you should wait until Ernesto has left and she calls you, she seemed very worried about him, wanted me gone through the back door."
"He's bad news, as are the Ferences," I muttered.
"You know about them?" she asked quietly. "How bad are they?"
"I know that they're no good to their women for the most part," I said, my stomach twisting into knots. "Is she the one engaged? She told me she wasn't, but I feel like she was lying."
Meredith's silence was answer enough, and I slammed my hand on the back of the front passenger seat. Thankfully, my driver, Daniel, barely flinched.
"This is not right, Mer. Sof would never agree to that," I spat.
"I know."
So there was more to this than we knew for fact. Ernesto was manipulating her, probably with threats. "I'll say I'm there to see Sofia about something. Ernesto won't recognize me, not until he looks up my name. I'm not as high-profile as Leo. But maybe that'll be enough to get him to back off."
"Gray, do you think that's smart? Maybe you should wait."
"I'm not waiting, Mer. Sofia is family, she's like a sister to you, we can't let this happen," I said, knowing I was going against what Leo had told me to do. I couldn't just let this die. Not unless it was truly what Sofia wanted.
Even then, I wasn't sure if I could.
Meredith sighed unhappily. She wasn't the only stubborn one in this family, and she knew when to not try to fight me. "Okay. But please be careful. And keep me updated?"
"I will," I promised before ending the call.
Five minutes later, we pulled into Sofia's driveway, spotting an unfamiliar black sedan parked out front. I straightened my tie as I climbed out, instructing my driver to park down the street before I walked to the door with purpose and rang the doorbell.
When Sofia opened it, the sight of her sent a wave of mixed emotions through me. Relief that she looked unharmed, unease at the entire predicament, and a sliver of delight at just seeing her. I'd been dying to see her again, to hold her, and now, it was just a mess, nothing like what I'd hoped.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I looked past her and into the house. "I know your uncle is here."
"Now isn't a good time." She looked unsettled at the sight of me as she glanced over her shoulder.
Understandably, given the situation.
"Sof, I need to know what's going. You're keeping things from me, just tell me the truth," I said, and her gaze returned to mine. She was trying to mask her emotions, but I could see the mix of them warring behind those dark eyes.
There was so much going on that she wasn't telling me, and I was getting far too concerned about it all.
"I'll call you later, okay?" she said in a sharp whisper. "I need to figure all of this out."
Meredith had pretty much confirmed my belief, but now, with how she looked, the strong, confident Sofia I knew, now uneasy and looking so lost, I knew for certain. She was being manipulated, her options probably a small handful of varying levels of hell.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, I just needed to know what was going on, what she wanted, and get a feel for what I was up against. Who I had to deal with.
Starting with the man who'd shattered her world.
"I'd like to speak with Ernesto."
"Gray, no, please. Just go." She moved to block me from going inside, but it was of no use as the man in question appeared behind her, his focus on me.
"Who is this?" he asked, a false smile spreading across his face. Too bad I knew a damn snake when I saw one. This was a man who preyed on others. Who loved the feel of power.
A man I would want nothing to do with, because he'd as much shake my hand as stab me in the back.
I looked to Sofia, stunned to find the distraught, panicked look in her eye, like she wanted to get the hell away from here, away from him.
An expression I'd never seen on her face before.
She was afraid of the man, and that cemented it for me. I sure as hell was not going anywhere now. I'd help her sort this all out and deal with him. I'd fix this mess that had been dumped on her, one she'd tried so hard to leave behind.
"I'm her boyfriend," I answered as I plastered on my most charming smile and extended my hand. "Grayson Cassaro. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." It'd be a pleasure to never see you in our city again.
Sofia's eyes widened, her lips parting in shock for only a moment before she masked her expression.
I didn't care about giving him my real name. Maybe knowing who I was and who I was involved with would make him back off, drop this desire to use Sofia as a pawn for the family she'd turned her back on.
"I was unaware Sofia had a partner of any kind," Ernesto said, shaking my hand with a slightly perplexed look. "Unfortunately, it will need to end."
"Excuse me?" I stared at Ernesto, at the assured look in his eye. He expected me to just walk away. Sure, it was a fake relationship, but who the fuck was he to tell me what to do?
"I believe my niece has much to tell you," Ernesto replied as he shot a smile at Sofia that made me want to put him on his ass. "Especially regarding her upcoming engagement."
There it was, confirmation in the flesh. The whole reason the bastard had come back into her life.
"I'll collect you tomorrow for the engagement, Sofia," Ernesto said as he stepped around us to leave. "Wear something appropriate."
I waited for the door to close before I turned to Sofia fully.
"We need to talk." I kept my voice low, doing everything I could to keep my face masked and my emotions in check.
Sofia was not mine, no matter how much I wanted her to be, no matter how I'd said it to her.
Did I want to make her mine? Yes, and if she was already being pulled back into this world, then I'd do whatever I could to make her mine instead of some wretched Ference.
"Yes.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she turned towards the living room. "We do."
"This engagement, is it to Juan Ference?" My voice was low, controlled, despite the unease simmering beneath the surface.
I followed Sofia to the couch, watching as she sunk onto it, looking so weary and exhausted. I wanted to make it better, to hold her and promise her everything would be okay. To make her smile once more.
"Gray—"
"How long have you know?" I pulled out my phone, quickly texting Meredith.
Ernesto gone. Mentioned engagement to Ference. Talking to Sofia now.
I pocketed the phone, ignoring the immediate ping of a response. "When I called you earlier, you said you didn't know anything about this. You lied to me."
"I don't owe you anything!" Sofia's voice rose suddenly. "We're not together, Gray. We had one night—one night that we agreed would be no strings attached!"
"This isn't about strings," I shot back. "This is about your safety! The Ferences are fucking psychopaths, Sofia. And if you're supposed to marry Juan, that's even worse. I've heard the stories, I know his reputation. And you're keeping me in the dark about something that could get you killed! Not to mention Meredith is your best friend, someone they can threaten, my sister!"
"I didn't ask for your protection! This is my own shit-show, and yes, I know that Meredith is your fucking sister, why do you think I'm so stuck? Why I need to figure this crap out, make a choice, likely just play my damn part!" She was shouting now, her face flushed. "I didn't ask for any of this!"
So they'd threatened Meredith, probably her entire circle here. I knew she had other friends through her work, but none were on the same level as Meredith.
"I care about you, Sof." I stepped closer, softening my voice. She looked so broken now, and it killed me inside. "More than you realize. I just want you safe and happy. Not tangled in this mess."
"That's not possible! I am caught in this mess, in this damn Hell!" Tears welled in her eyes. "You don't understand?—"
"Then help me understand! What the hell is happening, Sofia? In detail. We can figure it out. What are they holding over you?"
Her face contorted, and suddenly she doubled over, rushing to the kitchen sink where she violently threw up.
I moved to her side instantly, gathering her hair back from her face with one hand while rubbing her back with the other.
Was she sick as well? Or was all this stress too much for her? I'd never seen her break like this, to cry from something like this. She'd always been strong, helped Meredith, handled things that most people couldn't.
Whatever was going on, it was worse than I realized.
"It's okay," I murmured. "Just breathe."
When she finished, I grabbed a kitchen towel, dampened it, and gently wiped her face. She closed her eyes, drawing slow, deep breaths as she leaned on the counter. She looked so pale, so lost and broken. I hated this for her.
I filled a glass with water and handed it to her.
"Small sips," I instructed softly as I reached for a glass for myself. I had a feeling I'd need a drink to endure whatever we were about to discuss in order to figure this mess out.
She took the water with shaking hands, and my heart lurched as tears began to fall. She closed her eyes, fighting them as she rinsed her mouth out and then took a few sips of water. She let out a shaky breath as she set the glass down and looked up at me, her expression utterly broken, ripping my heart apart.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered.
I stared at her, the words repeating in my head, all the possible ways it could have happened spiraling through my mind.
Had a Ference…
Rage boiled through me at the thought, a desire to bury someone six feet under surfacing. The glass in my hand shattered, a shard slicing into my palm, and blood immediately welled from the wound.
"Did they…" I started, staring at my bleeding hand with a strange detachment.
Fuck, it was bleeding bad.
"God, no, not that. Gray, it's yours."
The room began to move. The sight of blood—my blood—pooling in my palm triggered something, something I'd thought had died when I'd had to spill blood that day we were all attacked by the Malatestas. My chest constricted, my breathing now shallow and rapid.
"Gray? Let's get that cleaned up." Sofia reached for my hand, but I was already sliding down to the floor, my back against the kitchen cabinets.
"Gray!" Sofia's voice seemed distant as black spots danced in my vision. My heart hammered in my chest, threatening to burst through my ribs. I stared at the blood coating my hand, trickling down my arm as glimpses of my father's face flashed through my mind.
So much blood. Blood I'd caused.
Sofia knelt in front of me, her hands on either side of my face. "Look at me, Gray. Focus on my eyes."
I tried, but the panic was overwhelming, crushing me from the inside as I struggled for air, gasping.
I barely noticed her shoving a hand towel into my hand and wrapping it around the bloody wound.
"Breathe with me," she instructed, her voice firm but gentle. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it."
She placed my good hand on her chest, letting me feel her steady heartbeat and the rhythm of her breathing. "Match me. In... and out."
I don't know how long we stayed like that—me on the floor, fighting through waves of panic while Sofia talked me through it. Eventually, my breathing steadied, the room stopped spinning, and I became aware of the dull throb in my hand.
"I'm sorry," I managed. So much for finally beating my issues with blood. Issues I'd had ever since the day my father had died.
I'd gotten better at dealing with it to some extent, normally able to turn and walk away without becoming a mess. Leo had understood over the years, another reason I was all about the legitimate side of the business, not the darker stuff.
Blood and I didn't mix well.
"Don't be." Sofia had already gathered first aid supplies from under the kitchen sink and began cleaning the cut on my hand. "This isn't that deep, but it might need a butterfly bandage."
I watched her work, her movements precise and confident. "How did you know what to do? For the panic attack, I mean."
"Meredith used to have them, remember?" She applied antiseptic, her touch gentle despite the sting. "I got pretty good at helping her through them."
She glanced up at me, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "For a man in the Donati crime world, that was quite a reaction to a little blood."
I gave a weak laugh. "I don't usually get involved in the bloody side of things."
"When you got shot during the shootout, you didn't react like this," she observed, carefully placing a butterfly bandage across the cut.
"I was more worried about you and Meredith then," I said with a shrug. "Too much happening to focus on the blood. Adrenaline and all that. Guess it overrode it."
She finished wrapping gauze around my hand, securing it with medical tape. "Why does it happen?"
I hesitated, then sighed. "It started after my father died."
Sofia's hands stilled. "Your father's death?"
"Yeah." I flexed my bandaged hand, testing the dressing. "There was a lot of blood that night. Leo and I... we both beat him pretty badly for what he did to Meredith."
I swallowed hard, the memories still vivid after all these years. "For a long time, I thought I'd killed him. That's what Leo told me after I had my first panic attack, that he thought it was guilt causing the reaction."
"And was it?" Sofia asked quietly.
I shook my head. "No, he told me right then that he'd been the one to land the final blow. He thought knowing I hadn't killed my own father would help stop it." I gave a humorless laugh. "Turns out it didn't matter. The trauma response was already wired in. But I've never regretted beating that bastard for what he did to Meredith."
"Good." Sofia bobbed her head. "He deserved what came his way."
I looked at her then—really looked at her. She was facing a situation that would shatter most people, and she was still showing strength, trying to find a way through, along with carrying my child.
My child.
Something shifted inside me, a fierce protectiveness unlike anything I'd ever felt before.
I leaned forward and kissed her, pouring every ounce of emotion I couldn't express into the contact.
She froze up, and I broke away, searching her startled gaze. Had I done the wrong thing?
"Gray, I just threw up, remember?"
I chuckled. Of course that was the issue. "I don't care," I murmured, kissing her again, deeper this time.
Her resistance lasted only seconds before she was kissing me back, her hands gripping my shirt. The heat between us built rapidly, the blend of tension and weeks of separation combusting into raw need.
"We shouldn't do this," she gasped as my lips moved to her neck. "Not now, not with everything?—"
"Okay," I agreed, pulling back slightly, my breathing ragged. "You're right. We need to figure all this out first?—"
But then she was kissing me again, her hands working at my belt. Whatever objections either of us had dissolved as clothing was hastily pushed aside, neither of us willing to break contact long enough for proper undressing.
I lifted her onto my lap as we sat on her kitchen floor, her legs wrapping around my waist. Our coming together was desperate, almost violent in its intensity—a physical manifestation of all the fear, anger, and need that had been building between us.
"Gray," she gasped against my mouth as she moved above me, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt.
I gripped her hips, guiding her movements, losing myself in the feel of her. This wasn't like our night at the hotel—that had been exploratory, controlled despite its passion. This was raw, primal, a claiming of each other in the midst of chaos.
When she came, her body tensing around mine, I followed immediately, burying my face against her neck to muffle my groan.
We stayed like that, connected and breathing heavily, as the reality of our situation slowly filtered back in. Sofia was still straddling me on her kitchen floor, her forehead resting against mine.
"I'm going to take care of you," I promised as I held her. "I'm going to find a way to fix this. We're going to have this baby and sort out everything with your family."
Her body trembled as she clung to me, like she was fighting back tears. "I don't know how we can do that. I don't know if having this baby is…"
My heart lurched as I sucked in a breath. "You want to get rid of it?"
"It's the smart decision with all of this, but… no." Her voice was so low, so fragile, but relief swept over me.
I held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head. "I'll handle it. Trust me." I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "I'm going to protect you and our child. No matter what it takes."