Chapter 10 Sophia
Sophia
The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee drew me to the dining room.
The house staff had laid out the daily breakfast spread.
Bowls of fresh fruit gleamed under the morning light, neatly arranged beside platters of sausage, bacon, pastries, bread, and more than enough coffee to keep a small army alert.
I filled a mug and grabbed an apple, biting into its crisp flesh as I wandered around the expansive, empty dining area.
The long table stretched before me, a setting of delicate porcelain plates and polished silverware arranged meticulously for a family meal that would never happen. I pulled out a chair, wincing as the hardwood legs scraped against the floor, then sat down, taking another slow bite of my apple.
No one ever ate together here, but the house staff, unfailingly loyal, still prepared this table every morning, just in case.
I took another bite, set the apple on the table, glanced around at the empty room, and slipped out of my chair, careful this time not to let it scrape.
My exploration of the mansion took me to the room with the chessboard. A single pawn had been moved since I’d last seen it.
“So this is how it’s going to be,” I murmured. Taking a seat, I slid one of my pawns forward in response. I lingered there, staring out the wide window that curved along the room’s outer wall.
From this vantage point, I spotted Gabriel.
He moved at a slow, deliberate pace through the gardens, his father at his side.
From here, they looked like any other father and son, sharing a quiet moment.
They were talking normally, casually, it seemed, then the Don stopped, staring straight ahead.
Gabriel said something and urged him forward, but the Don hesitated, turning to look at Gabriel like something was wrong.
From the far corner of the garden, a woman appeared.
Confident and elegant, she moved with a soft, unhurried grace toward them.
The Don’s gaze snapped between the woman and Gabriel, sharp and accusing, as if he’d just realized he was walking into a trap.
The woman approached, unshaken, her presence quiet but insistent.
A moment passed. She said something. Gabriel replied.
Then the Don dismissed them both with a sharp flick of his wrist and turned back toward the mansion.
The woman didn’t leave. She stepped closer to Gabriel and handed him something, a small orange pill bottle. He slipped it into his coat pocket without a word, keeping his eyes on the Don.
A soft knock behind me made me jump.
I turned. Nikolai stood under the archway, posture crisp, hands folded in front of him like he’d been standing there silently for longer than he should have. His polite smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Forgive the intrusion. May I?” He gestured into the room.
I nodded, already uneasy.
He stepped in a little, gaze flicking briefly to the chessboard, out the window, then back to me.
“There’s a small issue with the paperwork for the painting you sold.
Some minor oversight on the ownership transfer form.
The museum needs your signature on a few documents.
I don’t mean to sound condescending, but I should remind you not to sign with your real name, of course. ”
My brow knit. “Now?”
“They’d prefer to get it done before things get busy later,” he said smoothly. “It won’t take long.”
I glanced toward the window again, toward the garden where Gabriel was still talking. “Okay, well, I’ll let Gabriel know I’m going then.”
Nikolai’s interruption was gentle, seamless. “No need. He asked me to tell you.”
There was nothing overtly wrong with his tone. But something in the way he said it made the back of my neck prickle.
Still, I nodded. “Can someone drive me?”
“Michael will drive you. It’s arranged. Have you met him yet?”
“I’ve only gotten to know a few of Gabriels men in passing, but I know who he is.”
He gave me a small, reassuring smile, but it didn’t linger.
…“I’ll just get ready to go, then.”
I stared sideways, watching him leave. The faintest unease stirred in my chest again. Something about his voice was just so off-putting.
I studied the chessboard for a few minutes, then reached for the pawn I had moved, and slid it back to where it had been, intending to shift a different piece, only to jump again at the sound of another voice in the doorway.
“Once you let go, there’s no going back.”
I’m beginning to not like this room anymore.
The Don stood in the doorway, strong and clear-eyed, controlled, commanding. Nothing like how he was last night.
He nodded toward the board. “Move the pawn back.”
I obeyed, sliding the piece into place.
“Your move,” I said softly.
He stepped inside, no cane this time, muttering something under his breath as he rounded the board. His hand hovered, then moved with confidence. He shifted his knight without giving it much thought, then turned and walked away.
I watched him go, unsure which version of him I’d just seen and which one would be waiting next time.
The tapping of his cane resumed out of sight, muffled and slow.
I took his pawn with my knight, then left the room.
Outside, Tony and Michael were seated at a patio table with a few other men, all dressed in suits and looking sharp, as always.
Michael smoked lazily, studying the cards in his hand with detached ease.
He glanced up at me, and as if it were a signal, the other men took notice too, straightening slightly in their seats.
“Hey, wanna play?” Tony asked, his voice easy, his frame massive compared to the others.
“I think I’ve had my fill of games. And I don’t know how to play cards.”
“That’s alright. I’ll teach ya,” he said with a smile and eye contact warm enough to make me forget, just for a second, that he was a killer under Gabriel’s command.
“It’ll have to be another time,” Michael said, stubbing out his cigarette. “I’m taking her downtown. Something at the museum.”
“I’ll come along.” Tony added.
“Fine, but I’m driving.” Michael insisted.
“What’s wrong with my driving?” Tony asked, mock-offended.
Michael didn’t respond right away as we walked toward the car.
“You drive just fine, Tony,” he finally said flatly, opening the back door for me.
“I do drive fine. More than fine,” Tony muttered as Michael shut the door, leaving me alone in the backseat for a moment. Then the passenger door opened and Tony slid in, the car rocking with his weight.
“I’m a great driver,” he added, twisting around to flash a grin. “So if I’m ever driving you somewhere, don’t worry about it. Ask anyone, besides Michael.” He finished saying just as Michael got in the driver’s seat.
Michael snorted. “You ran a red light last week.”
Tony waved a hand. “It wasn’t red. It was yellow. Barely.”
“It would have been fine if you braked. It would have been fine if you floored it to make the light. But what did you do?”
Tony threw up his hand, “You always got somethin to say.”
Michael started the engine, then looked back at me. “He slammed on the brake, changed his mind, then slammed on the gas, but by then the light was red.”
I smiled weakly, not sure how involved I was really meant to be in their conversation.
Tony let out an exaggerated breath. "Alright, alright. Let's get going, I'm starving."
"What do you mean you're fuckin starving? We're not getting food. You know what, get out," Michael snapped, half-serious.
Tony turned in his seat, already halfway through a sigh, his hand half-lifted like he might argue but didn’t. Instead, he glanced back at me, quieter now.
“…What do you think, Sophia? You hungry?”
His voice lacked the usual bravado. It was almost pleading. Like he was scared I might say no.
I nodded gently. “Kind of, I had a light breakfast. Maybe after the museum we can pick something up.”
He looked at me for a second longer smiling, then let his shoulders fall back against the seat.
“Alright get drivin Mike we don’t have all day.”