45. SOPHIE
SOPHIE
How he managed to slip by me, I have no idea but by the time I come upstairs to my apartment, exhausted, at the end of the shift, Vin is in my little kitchen with Dr. Rossi.
“Vin! What the frig are you doing here? I told Jett to tell you I’d call you in the morning.
” I toss my apron on the chair more exhausted than I’ve felt in a long time.
I made the dubious decision to put on heels and spend most of my time in the front of the house because the heat was too much in the kitchen, and I regret it now.
“Why are you telling Jett anything? You should be talking to me.” He’s standing at my stove, stirring something in a pan. I scrunch my nose at him.
“What are you making?”
“I made you dinner. You need calcium. Rossi said so.”
“I do?” I’m having a hard time processing all this. Vin in my apartment. Dr. Rossi nodding calmly beside him. A baby in my belly. “And your solution to that is what?”
He turns, slapping a very blackened square onto a plate and hands it to me with a grin. “Grilled cheese.”
I look at it, then at him, then at Rossi. Taking it from him, I sigh. “Thank you, Vin. But this is just not what I need right now. I need a shower. I need bed.”
Vin steps in close to me and slides his arms around my waist. “After you eat and let Dr. Rossi examine you and the baby, I’ll make sure you get both.” He nuzzles into my neck and I can’t help but laugh. “At home.”
I pull back, frowning. “At home? Vin, I’m home.”
Vin snaps his fingers at Dr. Rossi. “Let the man do his job, Sophia.”
I scowl at Vin, but let Dr. Rossi give me a full examination while Vin hovers six inches a way, glaring at the doctor every time he touches me.
“Everything looks good,” Dr. Rossi finally concludes. “Based on your bloodwork, I have some supplements for you to start taking every day. As long as there are no issues, I will see you in a month.”
“A month?” Vin snaps. “Fuck that. You’ll see her in a few days.”
“Vin, it’s not necessary,” I say softly.
“Fine. Every week then,” he concedes. “Now pack a bag for yourself. I’m taking you home.”
“No. I’m taking a shower and going to bed, Vin. I told you that.”
“No, you’re coming home where it’s safer. I can’t protect you as well here, and there’s no way I’m letting my wife and child camp out in the middle of Manhattan. This place is a glorified tent, Sophia.”
I push past him, heading to my room. “Not your wife, Vin. And you’re making it sound like I’m a bad mother. I don’t appreciate that.”
He grabs me, spinning me back into his arms. “You are an amazing mom, but this pregnancy is my fault and you need to let me protect our child.”
I can’t help but laugh at the earnest look on his face. “Vin! I told you that I made my choices. I knew the risks. I’ll be honest: I didn’t really think it was going to happen. I mean we only had sex a few times, and it didn’t happen when we were first together.”
Vin grips my shoulders, his expression hardening. “What are you saying? Are you trying to tell me you think there’s a chance that this baby isn’t—”
I slap my hand over his mouth. “Think before you speak. Would I tell you this baby is yours if I thought for a second that it was possibly someone else’s?”
His whole face softens and he kisses my palm. When I pull it away, he looks ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
I sigh. “This isn’t a sustainable situation, Vin.”
“What isn’t?” He slides his hands under my shirt, and starts to lifts it up over my head, but I stop him.
“Vin,” I hiss, tilting my head at Rossi who is standing patiently by the door.
His brow furrows until he sees what I’m looking at. “Rossi, go down to the restaurant and wait with Jett and Darius until we’re ready.”
I sigh as Dr. Rossi leaves and smack Vin’s hands away as he tries to take off my shirt the second the door shuts. “You can’t be next to me every minute.”
“The fuck I can’t. You’re carrying my child, you’re going to be my wife, and there’s a fucking war on. I’m not going anywhere without you.” He leans back against the counter and watches me as I get a butter knife out of the drawer.
“I’m not going to be your wife.” I bump his hip to move him out of the way in my tiny kitchen and scrape some of the extra black off the sandwich into the sink.
“That’s not negotiable.” His gaze stays on my mouth.
“It absolutely is. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have to get married, nor does it mean I have to marry you.” I tap the knife against the sink to get rid of the extra char then flip the sandwich and start again.
“That’s not very traditional of you,” Vin growls. “Didn’t you say you wanted to have a traditional marriage?”
“Yes, and I still do.” I can feel his tension skyrocket and mentally brace myself.
“But not with me? You’re going to marry someone else and have my baby? Sophia—”
“Vincenzo, this is not your choice,” I say firmly.
He slams his fists into the counter and grabs me around the waist, yanking me to him. The sandwich and knife fly out of my hands and into the sink with a clatter.
“No way am I letting my son be raised by another man.”
“But women don’t matter as much as men so if it’s a daughter then it’s fine?” I snipe. This is the problem. This right here.
“No, it’s fucking worse!” He covers my belly with both hands and closes his eyes, his voice getting quiet. “You have to let me protect her, Sophia.”
“Your little boy would require protection, too, Vin. Women are not objects that you own and men your partners.” I shove his hands off me, and go to the refrigerator looking for leftovers. Pure rage has wiped out my exhaustion and replaced it with starvation.
“Fuck, why are you saying that? You think I hate women?” He sounds incredulous, but he can’t be serious. This cannot possibly be the first time he’s heard this. Siena alone must have said it 100 times.
“Yes, Vin. You are the textbook definition of a misogynist. You treat women badly. You think they should be relegated to the kitchen and the bedroom, and you view them as disposable.”
“But you—”
“I like the kitchen.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I roll my eyes.
“And the bedroom, but I don’t want my daughter raised by someone who believes that women are not as good as men. And I don’t want my son raised to believe that women are something to be used.”
“To be used,” he growls. “I seem to recall this woman, my woman, enjoying it when I used her. Your pussy got awfully fucking wet for someone who says she hates being demeaned. In fact, you initiated things that I never even considered: crawling to me with a rag hanging out of your mouth, undoing my belt with your teeth and laying down with your head hanging over the counter so I could fuck your throat.”
“That was my choice. But you didn’t like that, did you, Vin? You had to have control. You had to be in charge. You didn’t like it when I tried to direct things or shift the narrative.”
“I believe the last time I was inside you, you were the one in control. Or are you conveniently forgetting that.” He tries to calm down, takes a deep breath in. “If you want to be in control, all you have to do is ask.”
“Do I? On my hands and knees?” I practically bare my teeth, all my emotions, so much pent up rage and anger coming out. Freaking men! This is how men have treated me my whole life. “Is that how you ask me for freaking anything?”
He sneers at me. “You want me on my hands and knees, Sophia?”
I flash my eyes at him. “Don’t worry, Vin. I know you would never debase yourself for a woman, though you expect every woman in your life on her knees looking up at you.”
Before the sentence is out of my mouth, he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands on my hips. “Now what.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me. I’m being very freaking serious.”
“I’m not mocking you. You want me on my knees, then I’m on my knees. Now tell me what you want.”
Suddenly a wave of nerves washes over me. I asked for this but it never occurred to me that he would do it. I shift my weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve the pain from the heels.
Then I get an idea that I know without a doubt will end this conversation right now.
I lift my foot and push it into his chest, the high heel spiking into his skin. “There’s a scuff on my shoe,” I say drily. “Clean it.”
He looks at me for what feels like a full minute. I almost smirk, waiting for the outrage, the indignation, the evidence that he is about to deliver that proves me right about who he is.
But that’s not what he provides.
His eyes locked on mine, he kisses my shoe gently.
Then he licks the leather, his hands roaming up my calf, massaging my muscles.
Oh my God, it feels so amazing I have to reach back and grab the counter to hold myself up.
Being pregnant in heels is a fool’s game but this… I can’t take my eyes off him.
“Take the shoe off me,” I whisper.
He slips the shoe off my foot slowly, pushing his thumbs into my arches and kissing my toes. Fuck, it feels so good I can barely produce a coherent thought. I clear my throat. “Other one.”
He repeats the process on my other foot, massaging my calf, dropping little kisses. I groan and close my eyes, enjoying every bit of it.
But when he pushes his hands up my legs, sliding them under my dress, my eyes fly open and I slap his hands away.
“I didn’t say you could do that.”
He drops his hands and rises halfway up on his knees, his face at the level of my pussy. His mouth looks so inviting, I can barely concentrate.
“What would you like me to do, Mistress Sophia?”
I cannot even believe that this is happening right now. And that it is hands down the hottest thing I never knew I wanted. “Take off your clothes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He peels off his shirt and tosses it aside in a flash, unbuttoning his jeans, and shuffling them off. He’s already hard. So very hard. My pussy clenches in response.
“Good. Get on your hands and knees.” He does as he’s told. I’m impressed he’s let it go this far, but I honestly can’t even believe that I’m the one saying these words. “Good boy. Now wait.”
I let him stay there on the kitchen floor on his hands and knees as I go back into my bedroom and open my nightstand drawer. Hmm, so many fun options. I pick what I want and bring them with me.
I dump everything on the floor next to him, and Vin scans the toys and raises an eyebrow at me.
“So you’re taking the whole mistress thing literally then.”
“We’re just going to test your statement. You said you are not a misogynist, that women are equal to men.”
“Yes,” he says slowly.
“Then what you do to me, I should be able to do to you, right?”
“Well…”
“It’s either true or it isn’t.” I pick up a flogger and flick it against my hand. The leather is so soft and supple. Every time Vin used it on me flashes through my head, and I’m instantly wet. “Am I your equal, Vincenzo? Or do you view me as your slave that you use whenever you want?”
“I’m not interested in being fucked in the ass, Sophia.”
“Interesting that you would start there. I believe I placed that boundary when we met.” I drag the flogger down his back, over his ass, and thighs. “Do you recall what you did with that boundary?”
He exhales hard and drops his gaze to the floor. “Sophia…”
“Do you recall what you did with that boundary?”
“Yes,” he clips.
“And? Did you respect that boundary?”
He hangs his head and sighs. “I know where this is going, and I don’t want—”
“We’re not here to talk about what you want, Vin. We’re here to test your assertion that you believe I am your equal, that what is fine for you is fine for me and vice versa.”
Letting just the tips of the flogger touch his skin, I stipple it lightly up his back until a chill runs through him. I smile.
“I don’t like pain, and you do. It’s not going to turn me on to be hurt by you. And as far as I could tell, you liked all the things I did to you even if you started out saying you didn’t want them.”
“Hmm. Fair point.” I keep dragging the flogger lightly over his ass and thighs and he tenses. “You can relax, Vin. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise you that I will keep everything pain-free unless you ask me.”
His back muscles soften slightly, and he watches me over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.
I sigh. “You don’t trust me. Yet this is how women feel when they are with men. But here’s where you and I differ: I don’t want to do anything to you that you don’t want to happen. And unlike you, I don’t tell two people the same thing at the same time.”
His brow furrows. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“You were telling both Ashlyn and I the same thing: marriage, commitment, forever. I don’t do that.”
Rage passes over his face. “What the fuck are you saying? You let me come inside you a few hours ago, and I never fucked Ashlyn. Can you say the same thing about Gavin?”
“I can,” I say drily. “Stop trying to derail the conversation.”
“Tell me how the situation between Ashlyn and I and the one between you and Gavin is different then?”
“It’s different because I’m transparent. I told you I wanted to fuck you but I didn’t want to be with you. I told him that I wanted to take things slow but that I would consider it.”
Vin gets to his feet, more enraged than I’ve ever seen him. “You’re considering being with him when you’re carrying my baby?”
I shove against his bare chest, an exercise in futility. “Are you going to hurt me, Vin? Humiliate me? Degrade me like you love to do?”
He sneers, moving closer to me, his mouth inches from mine. “Don’t act like you didn’t love every single thing that happened between us.”
It’s true, but there’s no freaking way I’m going to give him the satisfaction of saying it.
I steel myself and try to find the right words to end this conversation.
“I’ll keep seeing Dr. Rossi for prenatal care.
He can report back to you so I don’t have to.
Otherwise, I don’t want to talk to you or see you. ”
The anger cracks and practically falls off his face. He looks heartbroken. “Sophie, no.” He drops to his knees, still naked, no longer hard, and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing my stomach. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”
I swallow hard, telling myself that the urge to cry is nothing but baby hormones. This man is toxic, not good for me and not good for the baby.
“Vin. I need you to let me go.”