2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
D om
My thumb hovers over my phone screen as I stare at the profile. Sophie Greco.
Her background is impressive.
She graduated from Harvard Law School at the top of her class and got a job at one of the biggest law firms in the country, closing five to ten large M if I pushed the right buttons, she’d come alive like a firecracker.
Much like the muted red on her mouth and the way it seemed to take a life of its own every time they parted for her to speak. It matched her auburn hair, with little streaks of red hidden behind the layer of glossy brown —and beneath it all, those sharp green eyes that didn’t miss a thing.
She was beautiful .
That’s not the point, though. “How did you come across her?” I ask Raff.
He shrugs. “She got in touch with me. I was in a meeting with some people from another agency, and she sent an email. We met for coffee the next day, and her pitch was hard to resist.”
“She graduated from Harvard,” I state. “Top of her class. She was a junior partner at a law firm two years ago.”
“Okay?” he drags.
“Why would she contact you when she could’ve used her intel for something else? Why would she want a job here when she had more?” My tone is biting because something is going on.
I know there is… But I can’t, for the life of me, put my finger on it.
Raff strokes his chin. “That’s an interesting take. Maybe—” he snaps his fingers, “maybe she didn’t like her job? You might find it hard to believe, since you’re not personally likable, but we get a ton of applications every year.”
My brows furrow, and he raises his hand. “It’s not an insult. It’s just your personality. And,” he raises a finger, “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. Unless you’re saying that you don’t want her here?”
The image of Sophie, standing behind the chair, her chin raised slightly in defiance, slips into my head.
“ You need someone they can relate to .” She sounded more confident than anything else, and I was a bit surprised. My plan was to find a slip, but she held her own until she left.
“No.” I shake my head. “She’ll be useful.”
Raff smiles. “I knew you’d say so. You wouldn’t have given her the job just to take it back. And I need someone like that in More Media.”
“You’ll have to find someone else.”
His jaw drops. “Someone else? She brought the deal to More Media. She’s a corporate lawyer. I say we need her more than you do. You have a team working for you already.”
He’s right. More Media is the company’s smallest subsidiary, and it’s still gaining ground, which is why we were looking into buying other entertainment agencies.
And I could—I could give Sophie to Raff for the sake of the Moretti Group as a whole.
But the nagging feeling I have, that she’s hiding something, is more than just an itch. “She can handle whatever cases you have, but I need her here.”
Raff leans in abruptly, his brows knitting curiously. His arms are folded under his chest, and his face is inches from mine.
“Why do I feel there’s something you’re not telling me? And don’t say it’s because she’s invaluable,” he adds before I can respond. “We both know nobody is invaluable to you. So,” he clicks his tongue, “spill.”
How do I explain what I don’t know?
My instincts? Do I tell him that the color of her lipstick didn’t match her drab clothing, and when she stood up to me, I felt a slight charge run through my chest?
That I watched her walk out of my office, inexplicably drawn by something other than her proposal?
I’ve never acted on bare instincts before. It’s always been facts and figures, because running the company requires taking calculated risks, rather than relying on emotions.
And yet, thinking about Sophie Greco pushes my thoughts out of focus and raises every alarm I’ve learned to pay attention to.
“If you wanted her, you’d have been here when she arrived,” I say flatly, pulling away from him. “You didn’t, so I’ll keep her for now.”
He rolls his eyes. “That might be the lamest excuse you’ve ever given me. Oh well,” he continues with a shrug, “might be good in the long run. I’ve never met anyone who looks like they might be a match for you, but Sophie Greco… she’s something.”
He pauses, his mouth curling into a devious grin. “This is going to be fun after all.”
I wish I could find the fun in it.
Raff pushes the chair back as he stands. “I’ll look into Blackwater, see if they’re truly in the deep water. If so, I’ll make an offer.”
“Not yet,” I stop him as he walks away. He looks over his shoulder. I sigh. “Give me a day. Then it’s all yours.”
“Okay.”
The door closes again, and I lean back, closing my eyes to clear my head. Instead of clarity, I get a vivid image of Sophie and the same inexplicable feeling.
I run my hand through my hair as an exhale pushes through my chest.
Whatever she’s hiding, I intend to find out.
For some weird reason, a part of me hopes it has everything to do with Blackwater and nothing to do with the fact that I can’t get the image of her lips out of my head.
***
I pull up outside a sleek bar with restricted parking space and ample security, nodding to the man at the entrance as he greets me.
Another uniformed person appears as I walk into the spacious open floor of the bar. “Good evening, Mr. Moretti. What would you like this evening?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I won’t be staying long.”
“Okay. If you do change your mind, please don’t hesitate to send for a bottle.”
As he leaves, I make my way through the back of the sitting area, down a reserved hallway, and straight to the door at the end. The bouncer opens the door promptly, politely ushering me in.
“Domenico Moretti.” A man with a gold robe and a gold tooth, seated behind the desk, spreads his arms out when he sees me. “It’s always good to see you, my friend.”
I clear my throat as I take my seat. “I’m not here for small talk, Rodrigo. Do you have what I asked for?”
He points to a bottle of scotch in the corner. “Why don’t you have a glass first? It’s been a while since you’ve paid us a visit.”
The corners of my mouth tug downward in open irritation, and my tone is clipped. “I don’t pay you for small talk, Rodrigo. Do you have what I asked for?”
His smile falls off, and his tone turns grim. “Yeah, I do. I was surprised you asked me to look into it, though. I usually deal with cleanups. Why her?”
The same question Raff asked. The same one I asked myself when I reached out to Rodrigo. I could’ve asked a proper private investigator to look into Sophie, but I figured they wouldn’t get any further than I did.
Or if they managed to, it’d take a while. And I needed answers as soon as possible.
“Like you said, you’re on cleanup duty,” I remind him.
He chuckles, showing off his tooth. “Know my place. I get it, boss.” He reaches into his drawer and brings out an envelope. “There’s not much on her. She’s a smart woman, but it looks like she might be running away from something.”
I leave the bar as quickly as I entered, slipping into my car. The envelope sits on the passenger seat, and I stare at it for a long moment, itching to look through and get it over with.
I do.
My fingers slip into the brown paper, and I remove several clipped papers. The first couple of pages tell me what I already know—her college and law school history. Her employment history. Records of excellence.
I flip faster, and something catches my eye.
Birth certificate. My eyes widen in shock as I see the name. Not Sophie Greco, the way she introduced herself.
No.
It’s a name I haven’t heard in over a decade. I thought I’d buried the hate in the past, but it’s here, staring at me right in the face.
Sophie Bellini.
Not a common last name, but not so rare either. It wouldn’t have hit me like a punch to the gut if I didn’t see the names next to hers. Mother and father—Aurora and Marco Bellini.
My fingers dig into the corners of the papers, curling them as anger burns through me. My jaw grinds so hard it feels like it might snap. Sixteen years. That’s how long it’s been since it happened. I managed to put it behind me.
I thought I’d grieved enough.
Not once did I think that I would one day meet the daughter of the man who killed my parents.
“Not a coincidence,” I mutter hoarsely. Not with her green eyes—calm, precise, and calculated. Not with the way she walked into my office, quiet yet determined.
“Fucking hell,” I curse as I toss the papers away, dragging my fingers through my hair and scraping against my scalp. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”
It was too good to be true. I should call her now and tell her that I know everything.
“No,” I shake my head. I’d rather see the look on her face, and I tell her that I know who she is. It’ll be pure pleasure.
Or, the thought slips into my mind. I could wait. She changed her last name for a reason; she came into my company for a reason.
Right now, I’m one step ahead. All I need to do is keep her close and find out what she’s up to. I thought about avenging my parents, but never went along with it.
Now’s the time.
My phone vibrates as I kick my car alive, and I almost ignore it when I see Raff’s name on my screen. “Yeah?” I say curtly.
“Did someone punch you in the guts?” he asks. “You sound hoarse.”
“You’re calling at night,” I say, sidestepping the subject. “What’s up?”
There’s a slight pause. “I know you said not to do any closing yet, but I did some more digging, and she was right. Blackwater Talent is on the verge of bankruptcy. I think we should make a move tomorrow. What do you say I take the lawyer along and bring the trophy home?”
“No.” The reply comes out before I can stop it. At this point, there’s no telling if we’re walking into a trap.
“No?”
“I’m sure you can close it yourself, Raff,” I say. “You’re the director, after all. Whatever paperwork you need to file can be sent to the legal team. Sophie Greco—” I halt. Bellini. “She’s off the case.”
“Do I get to know why?”
“Is Blackwater too hard for you?”
He chuckles. “I see what you did there. I’ll handle it,” he adds, “but don’t forget I was the one who brought her to you. You owe me one.”
The only person who’s going to be repaying any debt is Sophie.