37. SOPHIE
SOPHIE
The sound hits before the heat does.
A concussive wall of air that knocks me sideways into Gavin’s arm, and then it’s just ringing. High pitched ringing in my ears. Gavin’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
Then everything is noise. Screaming, glass, the whoosh of wind whipping fire into a frenzy—and I cannot breathe. I can’t breathe and my ears are ringing, and the pavilion is on fire.
Just like the Arsenal. It’s the Arsenal all over again.
The thought locks every muscle in my body.
Smoke and the smell of burning roses burn my lungs.
I stand frozen, my vision tunneling at the edges.
Gavin has my arm. He’s saying something.
His mouth is moving but I cannot hear him over the ringing and the screaming and the sound of another piece of the pavilion ceiling giving way.
Breathe, Sophie. Breathe.
I press my fist against my sternum and force my lungs open by sheer will. In. Out. My tunnel vision widens by a fraction.
Around me is chaos. Matti and his men are already mobilizing, cutting through the panicked crowd, directing guards.
Tommy has his phone up to one ear, his finger plugging the other ear, yelling orders.
Guards are materializing out of nowhere.
In the middle of it, I see Siena and Giovanna being hurried through the crowd, protected on all sides by guards.
“Sophie.” Gavin has both my arms now and he gives me a shake to get my attention. “Sophie, I need you to come with me. We have boats ready to go—”
“I need to find Siena—” I try to twist away from him in the direction I saw her headed, but he pulls me back.
“She’ll be fine. I need you to come with me so I can get you away from him. Now, Sophie, while there’s still time.”
His expression is harder, more urgent that I’ve ever seen, and it startles me enough to stop moving.
“Away from—” I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I need to find—”
“Sophie—”
“Let go of me.” I try to jerk my arm out of his grasp. “Gavin, let go.”
He doesn’t let go.
Matti appears by my side. He simply steps between me and Gavin and gives him a look that makes it clear that the conversation is over.
“She’s with us,” Matti says.
Gavin stares at him, then at me. His jaw tightens as hurt and frustration briefly flash across his face.
From behind him, someone calls his name.
“The boats are waiting,” he tells me, a last ditch effort to change my mind.
“I know.” I hold his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
He looks at me for one more second, then turns away.
I immediately turn to Matti, trying not to panic. “Where is he?”
Matti takes my arm and starts moving me through the crowd, angling toward the far edge of the pavilion where the smoke is thinner. “Let’s get you to Siena and Gi first—”
“Matti.” I stop walking. “Where is Vin?”
“I don’t have a confirmed location yet.” He starts moving again, but I don’t move with him.
The tunnel starts to close in on my vision again, and I breathe against it. Instantly, I see Vin’s face, how he looked at me, how he touched me. The way he said ‘I love you.’ The way I didn’t say it back.
I pull out of Matti’s grip and turn back the way we came.
“Sophie—”
I don’t run. I don’t panic; I don’t have that luxury right now. I move quickly and with intention through the thinning crowd, back toward the main pavilion, scanning every face, every cluster of guards.
“Sophia.” My father’s voice sounds like a whisper in the chaos, even though he’s yelling my name.
He leans against the far wall of the covered walkway, his jacket gone, his shirt collar open. He looks 10 years older than he did an hour ago. Matti comes up behind me and stops.
“Papá.” I go to him. He takes my face in his hands and looks me up and down, taking inventory. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Have you seen Vin?”
His hands tighten on my face. “You are staying with me—”
“Where is Vin?”
He drops his gaze and closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, I see nothing but distress.
“Papá.” My voice cracks. “Tell me.”
“We were together when it happened. Talking.” He swallows. “The device was directional. It came from the east side of the pavilion. Vin was standing in front of me when it went off.”
The world tilts.
“So he took the brunt of the—” I can’t even finish my sentence. I grip my father’s hands, pressing them against my face and shake my head, closing my eyes.
“The guards found him immediately.” My father says this like I should be reassured by it. “He is hurt, Sophia, but his men have him.”
“How hurt?”
“Sophia, I’m not a doctor—”
“Papá. How hurt?”
My father kisses my forehead gently as his hands drop from my face. “He is hurt,” he says finally. “Go to him.”
I turn. Matti is already moving, and standing still in the flow of people moving out of the pavilion is Tommy. Matti and I pick up the pace, and when we reach him, Tommy starts walking. We fall in step beside him.
He brings us through a service corridor and out through a door, down a set of stone steps to a lower level of the estate where the walls are thick and the light is different.
Vin is there.
Laid out on a thin cot, his jacket gone, his white shirt torn open on one side, Vin is pale, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. There is blood everywhere.
A man is standing next to him, checking him out.
“Hey Doc,” says Matti, his eyes on Vin. “This is Sophie, Vin’s… Sophie Bellamorte. Sophie, this is Dr. Rossi, the Demonio family resident doctor.”
Dr. Rossi nods at me but holds up a hand to keep me at bay as I try to go to Vin. My vision goes white at the edges. Shoving Dr. Rossi out of my way, I move to Vin’s side.
His eyes flicker open, and I gasp. Thank God. I cross myself and kiss my fingers. He doesn’t say anything. He looks exhausted, an exhaustion so intense it looks like grief.
“I’m here,” I say.
His jaw moves, but he doesn’t speak.
Dr. Rossi moves to the other side of him as I take Vin’s hand. It’s cold, his knuckles torn, and I hold his hand in both of mine, trying not to cry.
“We need to move him,” Matti says behind me. “The Edge has a full facility—”
“No.” I keep my eyes on Vin. “He stays here. I can take care of him here.”
Matti opens his mouth, glancing at Tommy who raises his eyebrows but says nothing.
“He stays here,” I say again.
Matti closes his mouth.
I lift my gaze to Dr. Rossi. “Tell me.”
Dr. Rossi is tall, stiff, reserved. In this moment, that is exactly what I need to quell the intense freak out bubbling just below the surface.
“Blast concussion, significant soft tissue damage along the right side. Damage to two ribs, possibly three; I need imaging to confirm. Lacerations across the back and shoulder. I need to check for internal bleeding and I want him monitored through the night.” He pauses. “He will be fine.”
I think I nod. Breathing is very freaking hard right now.
“You,” Dr. Rossi says, shifting his attention to me, “need to sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are gray.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I need you focused on him right now.”
Dr. Rossi narrows his eyes at me. “He is stable. His vitals are strong. I have done what needs to be done before we move him to a room.” A pause. “The same cannot necessarily be said for you. If you are Vin’s… If you are Vin’s, my job requires that I ensure you are okay medically.”
“I am perfectly—”
“Sophie.” Vin’s voice is jagged like his throat is riddled with broken glass, but his gaze is steady. His hand turns in mine and his fingers close around my wrist. “Sit down.”
“I will sit down when—”
“Sophia.”
The commanding way he says my name undoes something in me. I hear it echoed across every time he touched me, every time he took me, every time he said it in my ear as he came inside me.
There’s a scrape of metal against the stone floor as Matti moves a chair beside me. Vin keeps a hold of my wrist, his thumb moving in slow circles, as I sit down.
Dr. Rossi clears his throat. “I’ll give you a minute, but then I’ll need to—”
I wave him off. God, this man is weird, so freaking robotic.
I look at the blood on Vin’s shirt, the shirt I chose for him, and pluck at the sleeve.
“You took the blast,” I say. “You were standing in front of my father.”
“It’s hardly heroic, Sophie. It’s not like I knew it was going to go off.”
“Why were you talking to my father?”
He closes his eyes, but maintains his grip on my wrist.
“You’re not leaving the estate,” I say.
“Bossy.” His voice has a note of a smile to it. “I tell you I love you and you think you’re in charge now.”
“Vincenzo, don’t try me right now.”
He’s so quiet, it’s hard to hear him. “Don’t try me, Sophia.”
His thumb continues its slow circuit across the inside of my wrist.
The pavilion is still burning somewhere above us. I can smell the smoke distantly, muted by the thick stone walls. Outside there are voices and movement and the sound of machinery. In here it is quiet.
So much for ‘just one day.’