9. Sofia
9
SOFIA
I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of everything that’s happened. The events of the day, of the night, replay in my head like a movie on a constant loop.
The wedding, the vows, the dance… and then the sex.
God, the sex .
I hate to admit it, even to myself, but it was incredible, Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, every cliché in the book. It was like the last four years had never happened, like all the pain and heartbreak and betrayal had been erased in a single moment.
My body seemed to instinctively know Dom, reacting to his touch in ways I hadn’t felt since I was a teenager. Every kiss, caress, every thrust—it was like coming home, like finding a part of myself that I hadn’t even realized was missing.
I’d forgotten how good it could be, how perfectly we fit together. The way he knew just how to touch me, just where to kiss me to drive me wild with desire. The way he could make me come undone with a single look, a single word.
It’s been four years of celibacy, four long years of denying myself the pleasures of sex. And God, it’s been four too many.
I hate myself for feeling this way, for craving his touch even now, after everything he’s done. I hate that my body betrays me, that it yearns for him in a way that my heart and mind cannot comprehend.
But I can't deny the truth, no matter how much I want to. The physical connection between us, the raw, primal attraction… it’s still there. It never really went away, no matter how hard I tried to bury it, to pretend it didn’t exist.
And now, lying here in the darkness with the memory of his hands on my skin and his breath in my ear… I can’t help but wonder.
What if I hadn’t pushed him away? What if I had let myself give in, let myself drown in the pleasure of his touch?
What if we could find a way to move past the hurt and the anger? Maybe start anew? To forget about the past and try again?
But I can’t help but fixate on Dom’s words from earlier, his threat to seek an annulment, to end our marriage before it even truly begins.
I should be relieved. I should be thrilled at the prospect of being free from this sham of a union, from the man who shattered my heart into a million pieces.
And yet…
And yet, the thought of Dom leaving me, of his walking away from our marriage… it feels like he’s breaking up with me all over again.
It’s a sickening, gut-wrenching feeling, one that I thought I had buried deep down along with all the other painful memories of our past.
But now, in the darkness of the bedroom, with the weight of his words hanging in the air… it all comes rushing back.
The pain, the betrayal, the utter devastation of watching him turn his back on me, on us, on everything we had shared.
I hate him for making me feel this way. I hate him for still having this power over me, even after all these years.
But most of all, I hate myself for caring.
For feeling anything at all beyond the cold, hard fury that has sustained me for so long.
I don't want to admit it, even to myself, but I clearly still have feelings for him.
Despite everything he's done, despite all the pain he’s caused… there's still a part of me that loves him.
A part that never stopped loving him, even when I convinced myself that I had moved on, that I had put our past behind me.
But I can’t let myself dwell on those feelings. I can't let myself be swayed by the traitorous whispers of my heart.
Because an annulment would ruin everything. And that… that is something I cannot allow.
No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it tears me apart inside… I have to make this marriage work.
I have to find a way to coexist with Dominico, to play the role of dutiful wife and partner.
Because in the end… it’s not about me.
It's about my family, my sisters, the legacy that my father has worked so hard to build.
And I will do whatever it takes to protect that legacy.
My mind moves to our argument, and I can’t help but replay Dominico’s words from earlier, his accusation that I’m immature, selfish, and melodramatic for holding on to the pain of our past.
How dare he? How dare he minimize the hurt he caused me, the scars he left on my heart?
He thinks he knows what it means to be melodramatic? He has no fucking idea.
I grew up with three sisters. I’ve seen my fair share of dramatics, of tears and tantrums and hysterical fits.
But this? This pain, this anger, this all-consuming rage that threatens to swallow me whole? This is something else entirely. This is the kind of pain that changes you, that reshapes you from the inside out. The kind of pain that never really goes away, no matter how much time passes, no matter how hard you try to bury it.
And for him to dismiss it, to call me immature and selfish for feeling it…
It's a slap in the face, a knife to the heart.
But you know what? Fine. If he wants to see melodrama, if he wants to see just how dramatic I can be…
I’ll show him. I'll show him exactly what it means to be Sofia Marino, the queen of dramatics.
I’ll make his life a living hell, a never-ending parade of tears and tantrums and hysterical fits.
I’ll be the most immature, selfish, melodramatic wife he's ever seen. And I’ll do it all with a smile on my face. Because if there's one thing I know how to do, it’s put on a show.
And this show? This performance of a lifetime? It’s going to be fucking spectacular.
Just as quickly as the vindictive thoughts enter my mind, they dissipate like smoke in the wind. I sigh heavily, the weight of my own conscience bearing down on me. I can almost see my mother’s face frowning at me.
“ This isn’t how we raised you, Sofia,” my conscience almost seems to say. “You are not to hurt someone just because you can. You’re better than that .”
Ugh. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes in frustration.
My parents would be so disappointed in me. They raised me better than this, taught me the value of integrity, of honor, of putting family above all else.
And isn’t that what I’m doing here? Isn’t that why I agreed to this marriage in the first place?
To honor my father’s last wishes, to secure a future for my sisters, to ensure that the Marino name lives on, even after he’s gone?
If I were to blow up this marriage, to do everything in my power to undo the alliance that my father worked so hard to forge…
It would be the ultimate betrayal, the ultimate act of selfishness and disrespect.
And it would harm more than just myself. It would put my sisters at risk, leave them vulnerable to the machinations of the other Families, the vultures who circle our empire, waiting for any sign of weakness.
The thought of Bianca, Chiara, and Mia suffering because of my own selfish desires… it’s like a knife to the gut.
I can’t do that to them. I won’t.
No matter how much it hurts, I have to find a way to make this stupid marriage work. Just for my sisters, until they are safely married off.
Even if it means swallowing my pride, my anger, my pain.
Even if it means making peace with the man who shattered my heart, who broke me in ways I never thought possible.
Because in the end, that’s what family does. That's what love means.
Sacrifice. Selflessness. Putting the needs of others above your own. And if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I love my sisters more than life itself. More than my own happiness, my own dreams, my own desires. They are my everything, my best friends.
And I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe, to give them the future they deserve.
It's a small price to pay, in the grand scheme of things. So, in the morning, I will go to Dom. I will apologize for my harsh words, my cold demeanor. I will try to find a way to build a bridge between us, to create some kind of truce, some kind of understanding.
Even if it’s just a facade, a mask that we wear in public, in front of the watching eyes of the world. Even if beneath the surface, the wounds of the past still fester, still bleed.
It’s a start, a small, tentative step toward some kind of future, some kind of life together.
And it’s one that I have to take, for the sake of my Family, my legacy.
For the sake of the love that I once bore him, the love that traitorously still lingers.
I don't know if it will be enough. I don't know if we can ever truly move past what happened. But I have to try.
For my father, for my sisters. And for myself, for the girl I used to be, the woman I want to become.
Even if it means facing my demons, my fears, my deepest, darkest secrets. Even if it means risking my heart, my soul, my everything.
Because in the end, that’s what life is all about, isn’t it?
Risk. Chance. The courage to face the unknown, to step into the darkness and trust that somewhere, somehow, there will be light.
I can only pray that I have the strength to see it through. To be the woman my family needs me to be. If only I can find the faith to believe in myself, in us, in the possibility of a future that's worth fighting for.
Despite the odds, despite the obstacles, despite everything that stands in our way. It’s a daunting prospect, a terrifying leap into the unknown.
But it’s one that I know I have to take.