5. SOPHIE
SOPHIE
I’m doing this for Emilia.
It’s a mantra I repeated in the drive over, walking up the steps to Dragovari Tower, waiting for the elevator. Now, standing in the elevator on the way up to the rooftop, I consider taking my last opportunity to head back down to the lobby and disappear.
But being around Vin is something I need to get used to if I’m going to be in Emilia’s life.
The elevator doors open onto the rooftop. The air is crisp but warm thanks to the heaters everywhere. Strings of Edison lights loop between iron posts, lighting the stone pavers, and the city stretches out in every direction.
It’s beautiful.
Siena spots me immediately and cuts through the crowd with Matti a half-step behind her, his hand resting at the small of her back. She’s in red silk, her hair loose around her shoulders, and she looks so happy.
“So glad you came!” She wraps both arms around me and squeezes hard. “I was starting to worry.”
“I told you I’d be here.”
“You told me you’d think about it, which could mean no.” She pulls back and holds me at arm’s length, looking me over. “You look gorgeous.”
I’m wearing a dress I bought for the occasion and then returned but ultimately bought again: deep burgundy, long-sleeved, fitted through the waist with a not-so-deep V plunge in the front and simple draping that flatters my curves.
Nothing flashy like most of the strapless or backless dresses the other women are wearing.
I smooth my hands over the fabric, immediately self conscious.
“Where are the babies?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Downstairs with four nannies and Giovanna’s mother,” Matti says, and Siena rolls her eyes.
“Well, Giovanna’s mother, Catarina, was supposed to be with the babies but…
” She tilts her head toward a couch a couple dozen feet away.
On it sits Catarina, wine glass in hand, throwing her head back and laughing at whatever the guy sitting next to her is saying—a guy who looks about half her age.
When her hand rests on his forearm and stays there, he moves his hand to her thigh.
Olivia sits across from them and catches my eye, glances at Giovanna’s mom, and laughs behind her glass.
I laugh for the first time all night. “Good for her.”
“Giovanna would not agree with that statement,” Siena says drily, but she’s smiling.
The rooftop fills in around me as Siena steers me toward the bar where Valentina has her ass pressed against Matti’s security guy, Grit, almost bending over to touch her toes as she grinds her ass against his dick. Siena and I share a smirk.
I’ve been introduced to most of these people before, but no one recognizes me or says hello. I’m fine with that. It’s safe being invisible.
The Irish contingent here tonight I’m not as familiar with.
There are so many of them, both men and women, and I wonder if Vin is among them, if his fiancée is here as well.
I stick with Siena, a half smile on my face like I feel perfectly comfortable.
Like I’m not half dreading, half hoping to look up and find his gaze locked on mine.
Tommy and Giovanna are near the far railing, and I make my way toward them. Giovanna is radiant, her dark hair swept up, and Tommy is protectively by her side. He has that permanently watchful energy he always does, like he’s always three seconds from pouncing on anyone who looks at her wrong.
Giovanna slips her jacket from her shoulders, and I almost freeze in place.
A thick, intricate scar runs the length of her back.
At first it looks a spiderweb, but as I move closer, I see the design.
It’s a tree, intentional and spindly, the branches spanning the width of her back, the trunk split by three lightning bolts.
It’s complex and enormous and it must have taken hours. And wow, it must have hurt.
I raise my eyebrows before I can stop myself. I guess I’m not the only one who likes pain.
Giovanna catches my expression and smiles, unbothered. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It really is,” I say honestly.
I sneak a glance at Tommy who is looking at her like there’s no one else here, like he exists for no other purpose than to be hers.
I’ve seen that look before from Vin. I’ve been on the receiving end of that look. I shove the thought away before it has a chance to take root.
“Daaaammmmmnnnnn.” Vin’s voice comes from behind me and I go still, my glass halfway to my lips. “Can I touch it?”
I don’t turn around. I fix my eyes on the city beyond the parapet and focus on breathing as Siena puts a wine glass in my hand. I knew he would be here but somehow the sound of his voice feels like a shock of cold water to my system.
“If you touch her, I will break your fucking fingers.” Tommy’s voice is calm, despite the threat, but Siena exhales hard.
“Just fuck all the way off, Vin,” she snaps, and Matti makes a low, tight sound beside her.
Vin scoffs quietly behind me and I turn toward Siena who is glaring at him, praying he doesn’t recognize me from behind in a dress like this.
When Siena looks at me, she’s smiling brightly. “Let’s go find a table.”
We make our way to a spot over in the corner, out of sight of the bar where Vin is heading, but as soon as we get there, she waves at someone behind me. “Oh my friends from my old job are here! You remember Blake and Amelia, right? Want to go over and say hi?”
No, I do not want to make my way past Vin and make small talk with people I barely know while clocking his every move in my periphery.
“These heels are killing me,” I laugh. “I think I’ll nurse my Barolo and enjoy the view for a bit.”
She drops a kiss on my head before squealing and running over to her friends, in heels no less. I don’t know how she does it. Heels are not my norm, and I wasn’t kidding when I said my feet were killing me.
“I thought that was you.”
Gavin is standing at the other side of the table in a dark suit, his expression warm. He’s taller than I remember, freshly shaved, and he looks genuinely pleased to see me, which in this moment is both comforting and complicated. I’m grateful for a friendly face.
“Gavin.” I smile and mean it. I gesture toward the large group of Irish men and women laughing and drinking a few dozen yards away. “Friends of yours?”
He laughs. “Family, actually. Cousins, mostly. Ronan’s father is my father’s brother.”
It hits me that when Vin hired vendors for my restaurant, he probably hired his friends. Which makes Gavin a friend of Vin’s.
“I didn’t know the Irish mafia dabbled in laundry.” I try to keep my voice light.
He laughs again. “We dabble in a bit of everything. The linen service is just one of the businesses I oversee.” He tilts his head at the empty chair across from me. “May I?”
I give a welcoming gesture as he sits down. “You oversee multiple businesses yet you had the time to come to my restaurant in person and oversee the details of my tiny account?”
“Very important account,” he corrects me, signaling a passing server. When the server comes over, Gavin turns to me. “Would you like another glass of…”
“Barolo,” I say. “And no, I’m good.”
He has an easy confidence about him, a strong jaw and stronger hands, and when he looks at me, his gray-eyed gaze is penetrating.
“How’s the restaurant opening coming?”
I lean forward without meaning to and tell him. “The menu is set. The kitchen is exactly what I need it to be. It’s starting to feel like home, honestly.”
He leans in too and smiles. “Exactly as it should be then.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Siena clocking us from across the rooftop. She’s talking to her friends, Matti by her side, but her gaze keeps swinging over, and every time it lands on Gavin she gives me a microscopic nod of approval. I look away before I start laughing.
Gavin’s hand brushes mine on the table when he reaches for his glass. He doesn’t move it away immediately.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about your cooking,” he says, and the way he says it sounds like he hasn’t stopped thinking about me. The look on his face, the way his his hand lingers near mine, reinforces the message.
“Men always love my cooking,” I say lightly.
“I find it hard to believe they only love your cooking.” He smiles.
I feel his warmth, his clear and uncomplicated interest, and I hold it at a careful distance.
He glances around at the party, his eyes landing on Siena who immediately looks away like Gavin didn’t bust her watching us. “Big celebration.”
“Lot’s to celebrate,” I say brightly. “Babies in the family. New year. New restaurant.”
“New couple,” he adds.
I tilt my head. “Sorry?”
“Vin and Ashlyn.”
I freeze, my heart palpitating in my chest.
He shrugs. “A bit archaic but they made it official last night with a consummation, apparently. I thought you’d know, given your connection to the family.”
I turn in the direction he’s looking, toward his Irish family, and see one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life.
She’s wearing a backless emerald green dress that dips super low in back, the fabric clinging to her figure and pooling around her feet.
Her auburn hair is piled up in an intricate design.
When she turns to the side to take a sip from her glass, a few teaser curls frame her face.
She is gorgeous. Of course she is.
My stomach turns over, and everything around me blurs. I press my thumbnail into my palm under the table until the rooftop comes back into focus.
Gavin is watching me. “Problem?”
“Problem? Vin and Ashlyn?” Saying their names together makes my heart thud in my chest. “No, of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” I reach for my wine. “He’s practically family. My cousin married his brother. It’s wonderful news.”
He nods slowly. “So you were never… involved with him?”
Involved?
The sheer ecstasy on Vin’s face when he ate my food, the feel of his arms around me when he made me come the first time, the sound of his voice calling me his queen as he came in my mouth.
“No,” I say.
“No?”
“No,” I repeat.
Gavin holds my gaze for a moment. I can’t read what he’s thinking. Then he stands. “Let me get us fresh drinks.”
He moves toward the bar, and I exhale, sneaking another look at Ashlyn. Vin is next to her now, his back to me. She touches his arm, her head tipped toward his, talking to him. He’s in a dark suit, his shoulders broad, and his head is dipped down like he’s listening. But he’s not touching her.
I glance down at my dress and run my palms over the fabric a few times absently. Then I feel him beside me.
“Fixing yourself before your date comes back?”
I close my eyes for a split second then open them. He’s closer than he should be, and I have to physically force myself to breathe. I’d forgotten how disarming it is to be this close to him.
“Go away, Vin.” I stay calm. “Your rules, remember? I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
His jaw shifts. “You trying to show off your new fuck toy in front of me, Sophia?”
“Show off? Why would I do that?” My voice is even. I think it’s even. I hope it’s even. “You and I were never together. You made that clear. And even if we were, it’s been over a year.”
“Still.” His eyes move toward the bar where Gavin is talking to someone, his tone contemptuous. “Him? You’re replacing me with him?”
“At least I didn’t get engaged to someone else less than 24 hours after you came inside me.” I watch his face. “From what I understand, the two of you are as good as married after last night.”
That got him. His neck flushes red as he narrows his eyes at me and leans in closer. “Don’t judge me, princess. I’m a fucking boss doing what I have to do for my family. You’re just a fucking—”
“Careful,” I say softly.
“Whore.”
I almost laugh. No one has ever enjoyed treating me like a whore more than he did, and it definitely didn’t feel like an insult then.
“You fucking asshole,” I say under my breath.
He blinks, surprised I’m sure that I used a curse word.
“You’re wrong. You’re not the only one making choices that put this family first. It’s for them that I’m not throwing this drink in your face and making a scene in front of your freshly fucked fiancée.
” I lean forward slightly. “But try me when you aren’t protected by family politics. See how that goes for you.”
“I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t need you to do shit for me.”
“Yes, you made that clear the last time I saw you.” I sit back and sip my wine. “So what are you doing here, Vincenzo?”
He opens his mouth to respond.
“Looks serious.” Gavin’s voice is smooth and neutral as he sets a fresh glass of wine in front of me and glances between us. “Should I take a lap?”
“Yes,” Vin says.
But I say, “No,” at the same moment. I turn to Gavin with a smile. “Please, sit. Vin was just leaving.”
Gavin settles into his chair then throws me for a loop when he nudges the empty chair across from him a few inches in Vin’s direction with his foot.
“You’re welcome to join us. Sophia was just telling me about her restaurant opening, but I imagine there are a lot of good stories between the two of you. Practically family, she said.”
Sophia. Gavin called me Sophia. It’s something only my parents and Vin have ever called me.
The silence that follows is heavy.
Vin goes still, the muscle in his jaw twitching. His gaze comes to me, flat and dark, and I stare straight ahead with nothing on my face at all.
Vin’s words are for Gavin, but he keeps his eyes on me. “I’ll let Sophia tell you all about it,” he says and heads toward the bar without looking back.
Gavin watches him go. “So you don’t have a man?”
“I don’t have a man,” I confirm.
He turns back to me, his expression both skeptical and sympathetic. “Right,” he says quietly. He lifts his glass. “Happy New Year, Sophia.”
I lift mine. “Happy New Year, Gavin.”