Chapter 35 Andre
ANDRE
Another deep sigh heaved out of me as I sat and watched Sofia sleep.
Seated in the chair that I’d pulled up close to my bed, I dismissed the feeling of déjà vu.
Just days ago, I’d been in here doing this.
Watching her rest and knowing that a difficult conversation would be waiting for us when we woke.
Unlike that miserable wait, I was more confident now.
I would apologize for reacting the way I did when she told me about her secrets and lies.
I’d spend the rest of my life trying to make up for how she’d felt pushed away and rejected, assuming I hated her or wanted her dead. Without that mic Oleg had put on her, I wouldn’t have known how hurt she felt, how worried she was.
And that was on me.
Yes, it had been hard to hear her confess her wrongdoings, but I’d erred in assuming the worst of the situation. I had committed a colossal mistake in not believing in who she was. She was too good to hurt me, and I should’ve known that first.
“How is she holding up other than resting?” Claire asked as she prepared to leave the room.
She’d been coming by to check on her since we’d returned.
The initial plan was to take Sofia to a safehouse, away from here to further throw off her uncle from getting her back.
One look at the bruises and wounds on Sofia had me furious and cautious, though.
It seemed prudent to bring her here where Claire could be within reach for any medical emergencies.
“Time will tell,” I replied.
Hours had passed since I’d brought her back. Spies were still out there, observing and reporting in on Roberto finding her gone. We were in a waiting period, anticipating him to attack or declare war. Or to demand that we give her back.
Not fucking happening.
“Go easy on her,” Claire advised after a long moment of watching me. “Nice and slow.”
I almost laughed.
That was the same thing Sofia had told me when she found me bleeding out in my office.
“I will. Whatever she wants, whatever she needs…”
Claire smiled and leaned against the doorframe. “I think she just wants you. And safety.”
“Done.” I already knew which ring I’d give her out of the family vault.
“But I think she needs time. Space. And to know her cousin is all right. When she’s ready and more rested, please let me know.”
I lifted my gaze to my “stepmother”.
“I’ve been in contact with the hospice. Esmeralda is stable and adjusting. I know Sofia will be anxious for a report.”
My father entered the room, here to get his wife. “And I’ve checked that the security I’d sent there are monitoring the situation.”
I nodded at him, grateful that he’d go that far and compromise for this woman. A former—inept—spy who could’ve hurt our family.
Claire kissed his cheek. “I’m sure Owen’s impatient for me.” She smiled at me before leaving, letting me have a moment with my father.
“You’re sure about this? About her?” He came in and sat in another chair, glancing at Sofia. He scowled, and I knew that the sight of the injuries and bruises on her face pissed him off.
“Yes.” No question or doubt about it. “I will marry her,” I told him.
“And risk war,” he added matter-of-factly.
“Yes.” At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I nodded. “Let him come and fight us. It will be my honor to kill him for her. It will be my duty to remove him so we never have to face him again.”
“Are you determined to right the wrongs like this because she carries your child?” He raised his brows.
“I am determined to keep her by my side and protect her because she is mine. Because I love her.”
For a long, heavy moment, he stared me down.
Then, with a quirk of his lips, he sighed and stood. “I won’t waste my breath telling you that you have my permission.”
I smiled.
“Because you’d do what you want anyway.”
“I’d never betray the family, Father. I will always adhere to my duty.”
He nodded. “I’m relieved that you understand that both matter. Duty and family,” he said, gesturing at her before shoving his hands into his pockets. “You have my permission to do whatever is necessary to finish this.”
To finish him. Roberto Giovanni’s life would be ending while Sofia and I were just starting a whole new life together.
“Haven’t you realized it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission?” Roman joked as he knocked quietly and entered the room.
My father shot him a wry smirk. “Not always.”
He acknowledged me. “Oleg and I were in the control room, and it sounds like Giovanni's getting ready to contact us.”
I frowned, knowing I needed to be present there and head up this fight. But I didn’t want to leave Sofia alone. I wanted to be there the second she woke up.
“Go.” My father sat back down. “I’ll make sure she’s not alone.”
I smiled at him, glad that he was the one I could call my parent, my boss.
Sofia would have a learning curve to getting to know him, but I wouldn’t stand in the way of her figuring out how she wanted to befriend him and how he’d manage to accept her and welcome her to the family as a future daughter-in-law.
“Thank you,” I told him as I left to meet with the others and begin this response to our enemy.
I meant it from the bottom of my heart. With my father doing his part to let Sofia know she wasn’t a threat or outsider, she’d have more reason to believe that I intended on a lasting future with her, one not only out of duty but also love.
Roman spoke with one of the soldiers as we walked toward my security room, but I struggled to leave Sofia behind, in my room where she could rest. The memory of how quiet and shuttered she was in the car ride here bothered me.
Doubt had shone too clearly in her eyes until she snapped and fought with me, giving us the fire and tension we’d turned into passion in the shower.
I don’t blame you.
I can’t blame you for being so jaded.
Her uncle had used her and treated her like a pawn for so long. Her misinterpretation of my questions, when I’d asked her about the baby because I saw how worriedly she’d covered her stomach, wasn’t hard to accept either.
But there will be a way forward for us.
There has to be.
And that way forward would start with war. A final fight, a conclusion to the trouble her uncle had tried to give us for too long.
We will have nothing but love to count on, sweetheart.
I would promise her that day and night until she could truly convince herself of that dream.
Dream?
No. The future we’d have to embrace and build on would be real.
Because now, as I would need to switch gears and concentrate on how to kill her uncle, I knew what real love was. And I’d hold on to it with both hands and never let it—or her—go while we grew our family.