Chapter 28
Sophie
The last time I had seen a crowd like this at the Marcello estate was on the night of my wedding.
All morning, the veranda has been gradually overtaken by elegant banquet tables and Chiavari chairs, all dressed in pristine white linen tablecloths.
Fragrant hydrangea arrangements mark the spaces between each place setting.
Every single detail—the upbeat music, the caterers, the thoughtfully arranged seating charts—was chosen over the course of the month with Courtney, who helped me through every pivotal decision that needed to be made.
She did it because she loves me. Because she knew that stepping into my mother’s shoes was what I have dreaded most in this life… And it wasn’t just her.
Despite taxing days navigating the city, attending frequent meetings, and handling problems far beyond the scope of a mere party, Xavier would carve out days to drive us into the city, pretending to care about floral arrangements and hors d’oeuvres while juggling the literal lives of those around him.
He never complained, insisting on taking us for lunches and strolls through Central Park when we had enough security.
Arturo Marcello would have never done that .
In truth, no man at this gathering would have been raised to follow me on womanly duties. My father would’ve laughed in my mother’s face for even trying.
From the corner of my eye, Dario is shoving the camera-toting paparazzi away from the driveway, waving his arms at the undercover police sedan lurking at the curb while the nervous caterers haul in truckloads of Dom Pérignon, fearing for their safety.
A normal day in the Marcello household.
Growing up with Vito Marin as a father, I’ve seen my fair share of parties like this one, but never quite like this. Never as a host. I could always hide behind my parents. Or his parents.
Not today.
While everyone socializes beneath the shimmering lights, my attention drifts over the recognizable faces, pausing on the more intimidating ones, resisting the urge to retreat into this room until they all leave.
A few months ago, I was dragging people to the ground on blood-stained mats and eating half-cooked food, just trying to make it from one day to the next.
That hardened woman is still here, inside me, watching these people with distrust, now skilled in their game.
They will smile and praise while plotting your downfall.
They’ll turn a blind eye to injustice for the sake of power and money, sleeping soundly while I still struggle to close my eyes at night.
Spotting my cousin Bianca and her husband Ivan, toting not one, but two kids to the banquet table, has me sitting in strange emotions.
A dainty arm curls around my own, stained with dark age spots. Courtney flashes me a knowing smile. “You’ve got to go greet them sometime.”
“I will.”
“Nervous?” She nudges my chin when I shake my head, obviously lying. “You look tired. ”
“I haven’t been sleeping too well,” I confess.
Through the window, my gaze drifts beyond the party to the building concealed in the shadows. The prison. No matter how hard I try, I can never forget it’s there.
Together, we pass the long line of men and women waiting for a meeting in the parlor, exiting through the living room to join the party.
Xavier clearly won’t be free for a while.
The media announced my return across a broad range of outlets, but all the chatter in the garden quiets to a hush when the guests notice me on the stairs in a pale pink cocktail dress and mini heels.
I didn’t bother to do anything with my hair, which sways at my waist as I risk another step, concealing my fear while I grab the nearest drink and lift it toward the group.
“Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me—to us—that you all could be here.”
Maybe I should say more.
I can’t say I ever listened to my mother’s speeches.
A part of me doubts my father ever gave her a chance to make one, and perhaps that’s why my mind is drawing blanks, especially when my gaze roams the garden, and my eyes focus on the very person I’ve been thinking about all day—a person I was sure I’d never see again.
Courtney goes totally rigid beside me as Camilla Marin, clutching her purse to her chest, weaves through the crowd, heading this way.
Mamma .
My first thought, even though it doesn’t deserve to be.
Losing sight of her when I'm suddenly surrounded, my heart pounds. It isn’t real. She can’t be real.
Bianca is doing her best to get my attention, shaking my shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re here. You don’t even know how worried I was when you were gone. Tell me… You were in Sicily? Where? Why for this long? Sophia? ”
I'm not even looking at her.
Some man taps impatiently on my shoulder, introducing himself. Another one creeps up to my ear, and my fists clench, suppressing the programming Isaac drilled into me to prevent me from punching someone in the face.
It’s more than I can handle.
Their prying eyes and meddlesome suspicions of me, scrutinizing my body for signs of the rumors they’ve all inevitably heard.
Deep down, they know I didn’t leave my life of my own accord four years ago only to return now.
Their Boss hasn’t been alone for four years because I was caring for a friend in Italy. The media may buy that—not the family.
Not when they all know what powerful men do to headstrong problems like me.
“Sophia, my name is…”
A firm hand settles on my shoulder before a broad back shields me from the crowd.
In an instant, I release any and all fear as my fingers feebly clutch the cinch of Xavier’s pinstriped vest. With effortless and unwavering dominance, he asserts his presence, forcing them to retreat under the scorching intensity of his disapproving gaze.
At the same time, Dante blends into the masses, closely following my mother, who fends off anyone who tries to slow her down.
Xavier turns to me, stone-faced, every bit an intimidating Mafia Boss in this moment. “Go see your mother.”
Bianca stands tongue-tied as I pass through the bewildered crowd, venturing down the untraveled path, confronting my mother where Dante has halted her with a massive hand blocking her chest, forbidding her from getting any closer.
Ignoring his intimidating scowl, her gaze remains fixed on me, her eyes widening as if she’s just now pieced together that it’s really me.
“Sophia.”
“Camilla.”
There’s no outcry of emotion. No crushing embrace. Just cold restraint behind beautiful golden-brown eyes. One look and I’m already sure she isn’t here because she hasn’t been able to live all this time without me.
“Why did you come?” I ask.
“I had to see you with my own eyes.”
Dante flashes his eyes at me in a silent question, letting her move only when I tell him to.
She isn’t here to kill me. She has no gun, and even if she did, at least I now know how to strip it from her.
As he shoots daggers at the woman who gave me life while she heads into the house, I nod, letting him believe I can handle this, even if I can’t.
Upon entering, I glance back at the crowd and easily locate Xavier, who is noticeably taller than anyone else around him.
His attentive eyes are solely on me as he invites everyone to help themselves, directing them toward the winding buffet catered from the city.
Passing through the French doors, I find my mother admiring a framed photo on the table.
“Giulia was a wonderful woman. I was sad to hear of her passing.”
“Not mine, though.”
She touches the gold frame. “I knew you were alive.”
“How?”
“Because Xavier still was.”
A blow. A gut punch . Right off the bat.
Camilla sinks into the couch cushion, resting her sequined purse on her lap.
She’s wearing one of the dresses I admired from her stocked closet, a caramel-colored wrap dress tied at her waist that complements the gold jewelry hanging from her ears and neck.
She embodies the charm that comes with wealth, even without Vito Marin on her arm.
She smiles at how effortlessly she was able to unnerve me.
“I may have been absent for many things, but I watched as we pushed you two together. All those years… You think I didn’t see how he looked at you?
Granted, when I heard he’d taken up with that redhead girl, I questioned if he’d found a way to suppress that little crush.
” She scoffs, shaking her head. “But you married, and he was stupid enough to let everyone see he hadn’t. ”
“Are you done?”
“I had no idea what happened to you when Vito told me you’d gone missing, but I knew it wasn’t death when Xavier disappeared too, only to return in his father’s place with control of everything, even your father’s territory. I gotta give him kudos. I didn’t think he had it in him.”
“If this is all you came to do, you can go.”
She stares at me long and hard enough to make me feel like a child again, no match for her brutal coolness. “You certainly look good. Happy.”
“I am.”
“But you don’t look like my daughter.”
I'm frozen by the door, wanting to control this, overpower her with rage, make her feel like shit, but my legs won’t budge. “Perceptive.”
“How does it feel to be everything you tried to run from?”
“You don’t get to ask me that.”
Her lips flatten. “Vito calls often.”
“I don’t care.”
“He told me not to wait for Victoria anymore… Wouldn’t tell me anything else.” She tries to unravel my lifeless gaze, but I give her nothing. Still, she says, “You know something.”
It’s easier to lie than it ought to be. “I haven’t talked to her in years.”
“Don’t play with me, Sophia. Not about my daughter.”
My eyes clamp shut with anger. “You knew nothing about your daughters, Camilla. And you couldn’t handle the truth. Sit in ignorance like you always have,” I snap, unable to expel the image of what was left of my sister’s face when I left her in another continent, where she’ll remain forever .
Forever .