31. Dominico
31
DOMINICO
I stand in the middle of the room, my chest heaving with frustration and anger as Sofia’s footsteps fade away down the hall. It’s like we’re stuck in this endless cycle, this push and pull that neither of us seems able to break free from.
Every time I think I might be getting closer to her, she slams the door in my face, pushing me away.
I sink down onto the edge of the bed, my head falling into my hands as I try to make sense of what just happened. I know I should go after her, chase her down and make her see that I’m not giving up, that I’ll never stop fighting for what we have.
But God, I’m so fucking tired. Tired of the constant battles, the never-ending cycle of accusation and recrimination. Tired of feeling like I’m banging my head against a wall, trying to break through the fortress she’s built around her heart.
One step forward, three steps back.
And yet… I can’t let her go. I can’t imagine a life without her in it, without the fire and the passion and the sheer, unrelenting force of nature that is Sofia Marino Sicura.
I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. After we broke up, I threw myself into a string of empty, meaningless flings. I tried to lose myself in the thrill of the chase, the rush of conquest and seduction.
And it worked. For a while. But there was always something missing.
None of them could hold a candle to her. None of them could ignite the same spark, the same fever in my blood that Sofia always has, from the very first moment I laid eyes on her.
It was at a funeral, of all places. I was nineteen, already jaded and cynical. I stood by my father’s side, a dutiful son paying his respects to a fallen comrade.
And then I saw her.
Sofia Marino, just fifteen years old and achingly beautiful in her black dress and veil. She walked into the church on her father’s arm, her head held high and her eyes dry, despite the solemnity of the occasion.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How had I never seen her before? Our fathers were allies. How had I never realized a literal angel walked among us?
I couldn’t look away from the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips, the way the light seemed to catch in her dark hair and make it glow like a halo.
But it wasn’t just her beauty that captivated me. No, as I watched her throughout the service, as I listened to her murmur condolences and offer words of comfort, I saw something else.
She was smart, quick-witted, and funny. She had a way of putting people at ease, of making them feel heard and understood.
And when she laughed? It was like the whole world lit up. Like everything else faded away and there was nothing but the sound of her joy, the sparkle in her eyes and the dimple in her cheek.
I knew then, with a certainty that I’d never felt before, that I had to make her mine, had to find a way to win her heart, to make her see that we were meant to be together.
It wasn't easy. Goddamn, was it not easy.
Sofia, for all her warmth and vivacity, was guarded and cautious. As a Mob daughter, she’d seen too much to trust easily or give her love freely.
But I was patient. I was persistent. It also helped that our fathers were allies and friendly with each other. I always made sure to accompany my father to the Marino house just so I could catch a glimpse of the beautiful Sofia.
I wooed her with flowers and my charm, with stolen moments and secret kisses under the stars. I showed her the man I wanted to be, the partner I knew I could become, if only she would give me the chance.
And slowly, day by day… she did. She opened up to me, let me into the hidden places of her heart and her soul. She shared her dreams and her fears, her hopes and her sorrows.
And then I left her, crushed her feelings into a million pieces with the heel of my shoe.
I thought I could live without her, and for a time, I did. I went through the motions of life without any real purpose. I tried to forget about her, tried to forget those deep blue eyes, that melodic laughter, that beautiful smile.
It wasn’t until she came back into my world, until I saw the fire still burning in those blue eyes… that I realized just how deeply I’d missed her, how much I needed her like I needed air to breathe.
And now, with every fight and every bitter word exchanged between us… I feel that same emptiness creeping back in, that same sense of desolation and despair.
I can’t lose her again. I can’t go back to that hollow, joyless existence, that pale imitation of a life that I once thought was enough.
But even if I do, it’s still all my fault.
Regret rises in me for the choices I made, the mistakes that led me to this moment. I never should have let her go, never should have walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me, the one person who saw past the mask I wore and loved me for me .
But I was young and stupid then. I didn’t want the pressures that come with taking over my father’s empire—let alone marrying the oldest daughter of the most powerful Don around.
I wanted to get out of town, see the world, and Sofia wasn’t part of that plan.
So I broke her heart, told her that she was foolish for ever believing I would marry her.
I’ll never forget the look of betrayal on her face. Of hurt. I was convinced that Sofia would tell her father about what I did out of revenge and he would come after me, guns blazing.
But she didn’t. She never said anything to her parents. She just kept that hurt in her heart for four years.
Honestly, I wish she had sicced her father on me. It would have hurt less than seeing the pain in her eyes, the way she flinches away from me.
I want to go after her, want to chase her down and beg her to forgive me, to give me another chance to prove that I’m not the same selfish, careless boy who broke her heart all those years ago.
But something holds me back. Something whispers in the back of my mind that she needs space, needs time to breathe and process and find her way back to center.
Sofia has always been like that, has always needed the anchor of her family, the unwavering love and support of the people who know her best, to keep her grounded. Especially with her father’s illness.
And right now, I know that’s where she’ll go, back to the arms of the family who will always be her safe haven.
As much as it kills me to let her walk away, as much as every fiber of my being screams at me to go after her… I know that I have to trust her. I have to believe that she’ll find her way back to me.
With that thought, I quickly dress and head downstairs to my father’s office. I never told him about how my assignment went, and my father will expect a debrief as soon as possible.
“Gaspare has been taken care of,” I say, my voice steady and flat. “He won’t be a problem anymore.”
My father nods. “And what was done with the body?”
I look at my father. “What body?”
My father nods, a rare smile of approval curving his lips. “Well done, Dominico. You’re finally taking your place as the future of this Family.”
I feel bile rise in my throat, the bitter taste of shame and disgust coating my tongue. But I force it down, force myself to meet my father’s gaze with a cool mask of my own. “I’m at your disposal, Father. Always.”
The words feel like poison, but I say them anyway, because that’s what’s expected of me. That’s the price I have to pay for the power and the privilege of being a Sicura heir.
As the day wears on and the sun begins to set, I find myself growing more and more uneasy. Sofia still hasn’t come home.
At first, I try to convince myself that it’s fine, that she’s probably just having a wonderful time with her family. But as the hours tick by and the shadows lengthen, I can’t shake the nagging sense that something is wrong.
At dinner, my mother looks around the table with a frown, her brow furrowed in concern. “Where’s Sofia?” she asks. “Shouldn’t she be here by now?”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry and tight.
“She decided to have dinner with her family,” I lie, the words tasting like ashes on my tongue.
My mother looks at my father questioningly. “Sofia did tell me she was visiting her family this morning,” he says as he cuts up his meat into small, uniform slices. “I’m sure she will be home soon.”
The look he gives me tells me that she'd better be home soon. Or else.
Across the table, Valentina narrows her eyes, her gaze sharp and assessing. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, can see the doubt and the suspicion flickering in her dark eyes. But she says nothing, just nods and turns her attention back to her plate.
I pick at my food, my appetite gone and my stomach twisting with a growing sense of unease. What if I made the wrong choice? What if Sofia wasn’t just looking for space but for a way out?
The thought makes me sick, makes my chest tighten with a panic that I can barely contain. But I push back past the feeling, forcing myself to take bites of food.
I can’t let my parents know that Sofia and I fought so badly that she left. My father will kill me.
Forcing myself to chew, I tell myself to call the Marinos after dinner. It’s time for me to bring Sofia home and beg for her forgiveness.