Chapter 28
Dante
Something's wrong.
I know it before I'm fully awake, that instinct honed by years of sleeping with one eye open kicking in. The bed feels too empty, too cold. My arm reaches across the mattress, searching for Sofia's warmth, but finds only rumpled sheets.
"Princess?" My voice is rough with sleep, echoing in the quiet safehouse.
Silence.
I sit up, scanning the room. Her clothes are gone. The small bag—gone too. Panic starts as a cold knot in my stomach, spreading outward like ice water in my veins.
That's when I see the letter on the pillow.
My hands shake as I unfold it, reading her careful handwriting once, twice, three times. Each word is a fucking knife between my ribs.
Don't come after me.
You gave me something I never thought I'd have—the feeling of being chosen.
Find someone who can love you without costing you everything.
"Goddammit, Sofia." I crumple the letter in my fist, then smooth it out again, re-reading the postscript that makes my chest tight. I was wrong about one thing. I was never your prisoner. You were mine.
She thinks she's protecting me. Thinks she's saving me from some great sacrifice. The stubborn, brilliant, impossible woman doesn't understand that she didn't cost me everything—she became everything.
I'm on my feet, pulling on clothes, my mind racing. How long has she been gone? The sheets are cold, but not ice cold. Maybe an hour, two at most. If she's on foot, she can't have gotten far.
The safehouse has a landline in the kitchen, an old rotary phone that probably hasn't been updated since the seventies. I dial the number for the other safehouse, the one where Rina and the others are hiding.
It rings twice before one of the guys picks up. "Hello?"
"It's Dante. Is Sofia there?"
"Dante! Thank God. We've been trying to reach you. We can't locate her."
My blood turns to ice. "She's not with you?"
"No, she... Dante, she's gone."
"Shit. Does Vito know?"
The pause tells me everything. "Yeah. He knows."
"Fuck." I run my free hand through my hair, pacing the small kitchen. "How did he—"
"The Irish were casing this place, Dante. They've been watching us. Vito came personally last night."
A knock at the door cuts through my panic like a gunshot. Hard, authoritative. Not Sofia coming back.
"I have to go." I hang up.
I grab a gun from beneath counter, checking the chamber as I approach the door. These safehouses are equipped with weapons throughout. The knocking comes again, patient but insistent.
"Dante." Marco's voice carries through the wood, calm and steady. "You better not be thinking of shooting me, kid. And there's no running from this."
I keep the gun raised but don't respond.
"Come on, Dante. We both know you're smarter than that. Open the door."
"Where is she?" I call out.
"That's what we're trying to figure out. And standing here with my dick in my hand isn't helping anyone find her."
Against my better judgment, I unlock the door but keep the gun trained on him. Marco steps inside, hands visible, no weapon drawn. He's alone, which surprises me.
"You look like shit," he observes, taking in my hastily thrown-on clothes and what I'm sure are wild eyes.
"How did you know where I was?"
Marco's expression shifts slightly. "Sofia called Gianna last night. After your little crash."
Of course she did. And of course... "All the Rosso lines are monitored."
"Every single one." Marco confirms. "Vito knew exactly where you two were the whole time."
Vito let us think we were free, let us make our choices, all while watching from the shadows. "Son of a bitch."
"He's waiting for you. Both of you, but since we can only find one..." Marco shrugs. "You're coming with me."
"I need to find Sofia."
"We're working on that. But first, you're going to explain to the boss why his enforcer decided to go AWOL with his sister-in-law."
I lower the gun slightly. "Where is he?"
"The other safehouse. He's not leaving until Rina's secure and Sofia's found."
The drive is tense, Marco behind the wheel while I stare out the window, my mind racing through possibilities. Sofia could be anywhere by now. If she hitchhiked, took a bus, if someone picked her up... The Irish have resources, connections. They could have been watching all the roads.
The safehouse comes into view. "How many men does he have here?" I ask.
"Enough." Marco parks near the main entrance. "Try not to make this worse than it already is, Dante."
Inside, the tension is thick enough to cut. Elena and Gianna are sitting on a couch, both looking exhausted and worried. A few soldiers I recognize are posted at windows, watching the perimeter.
And there's Vito, standing with his back to me, staring out a window with the rigid posture of a man barely containing his rage.
"Boss," Marco announces. "Found him."
Vito turns slowly, and I see the full weight of his fury in his dark eyes. But underneath it, there's something else. Fear. For Rina, for Sofia, for the family he's built.
"Where is she?" His voice is deadly quiet.
"I don't know."
"Bullshit." He crosses the room in three strides, getting close enough that I can see the muscle ticking in his jaw. "You were supposed to protect her."
"I was protecting her. From you."
The words hang in the air like a lit fuse. Vito's eyes narrow dangerously.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." The anger that's been building since I read Sofia's letter finally boils over. "You gave her an impossible choice. Marriage to that bastard Kieran or war. What the fuck did you think she'd do?"
"I thought she'd be smart enough to see the bigger picture."
"The bigger picture?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "You mean your picture. Your empire, your deals, your fucking legacy."
"Watch it, Dante."
"No, you watch it." I step closer, matching his energy. "She's not a bargaining chip. She's not collateral. She's not some pawn you can move around your chessboard."
"She's family. And family protects family, even when it means making hard choices."
"Then why didn't you protect her from Kieran?"
Vito's hand moves faster than I expect, grabbing my shirt and slamming me against the wall. But I don't back down.
"Because some prices are worth paying," he snarls.
"Not her. Never her." I grab his wrists, pulling his hands away from my shirt. "She belongs to me now, Vito. And I'm never letting you hand her over to anyone."
The words are out before I can stop them, raw and honest and irreversible. Vito's eyes widen slightly, and I see the exact moment he understands what's really happened here.
"You fell for her." It's not a question.
"She's mine," I repeat, my voice steadier now. "And if you make me choose between her and you, it's going to be her. Every fucking time."
Silence stretches between us, heavy and dangerous. I can feel the other people in the room watching, waiting to see how this plays out.
That's when the front door opens and Rina walks in, her dark hair disheveled and her face pale with worry.
"Any word on—" She stops when she sees Vito and me squared off, the tension in the room hitting her like a wall. Her eyes move between us, taking in our aggressive postures, the way we're both breathing hard.
"What's going on?" she asks quietly.
Vito doesn't take his eyes off me. "Dante was just explaining why he let your sister run off into the night."
"I didn't let her do anything," I snap. "She made her own choice."
"Because you couldn't control her."
"Because I love her."
The admission silences the room completely. Rina's hand goes to her throat, her eyes widening. Vito stares at me like I've just admitted to murder.
Maybe I have. Maybe loving Sofia Gallo in this world is suicide.
But I'd rather die protecting her than live without her.