Chapter 15
SOPHIA
I’m still sitting on the bed, staring at Luca. He’s dead asleep, turned on one side. I try to keep my eyes averted from his back muscles, from the tattoo on his shoulder blade. Why does he have to be so attractive?
He’s my kidnapper, but also the father of my daughter, so my body is confused to say the least. The weight of him on the bed feels achingly familiar—not that we’d done much sleeping that night.
I shake my head to clear it. There has to be an opportunity here. His phone is half out of his back pocket and it gives me an idea. He’s a heavy sleeper. I remember that from the night we spent together, and the way he’s snoring right now makes me think he’s fully asleep.
But what if he’s pretending? Or what if things have changed since that night three years ago? I bite my lip, but what makes the decision for me is the image of Rosa in my head: curly dark hair, his green eyes. I miss her so badly it hurts, and it’s only been a night. Will I ever get back to her?
It would be so easy to call the police, but something stops me from doing that.
I know Scott must be looking for me. I’m sure he’s told everyone.
Maybe not Agnes. He might want to keep Rosa in the dark until he finds me, not wanting to worry her.
He loves her so, he’s her uncle in every sense of the word but blood.
I slowly slide his phone out of his pocket and Luca stirs. I freeze, my heart pounding, but he just mumbles something incoherent and rolls over onto his back, one hand on his chest, his face turned toward me. God, his broad chest, the hair on his belly, trailing down into his slacks....
I shake my head to clear it.
You’ve got it to do, I think, something that my father had told me over and over when I had a task that seemed insurmountable.
I breathe in deeply and creep around the bed to take his hand. He doesn’t even stir when I press his thumb against the sensor, and the phone unlocks. I draw in a ragged breath and dart to the corner of the room, as far away from him as I can get.
I huddle in the corner, my eyes on his sleeping form, as I dial Agnes’ number with shaking hands. The phone rings once, twice, three times.
“Hello? Who’s this?” she answers and I let out a relieved breath.
“Agnes, it’s Sophia,” I whisper.
“Oh, hello, love!” she chirps, and I realize I was right. Scott hadn’t told her the whole truth. “Scott came by, said you might not be home for a few days. Undercover, that’s so exciting!”
“Y-yes,” I stutter, keeping my voice as low as possible. “It is. How’s Rosa?”
I’m trying to keep the tears out of my voice. Just hearing Agnes pick up the phone is making my heart ache. I miss my old life. I miss Scott and Agnes. I miss Rosa with everything in me. When you have a child, it’s like your heart starts walking around in another body.
“She’s right as rain. Enjoying her sleepover.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“Of course! Rosa! Hey Rosie!”
Shuffling sounds assault my ears and then I hear the sweetest little voice in the world.
“Mama?”
I squeeze my eyes shut against the tears, but they spill over anyway.
“Hi, Rosie girl. You having fun?”
“So much fun! Are you having fun at work?”
“So much fun,” I repeat shakily. “Just be good for Aggie, okay?”
“Aggie taught me jacks.”
“Jacks? Like with the little ball?”
“Yeah! I got twosies!”
I can’t help but laugh, but then Luca rolls over onto his stomach and I press my mouth shut.
After a terrifying moment, his breathing evens out.
“Mama?”
“Yeah, Rosie girl?”
“Gotta go. Wanna play.”
I smile. My bossy Rosie girl.
“Alright, baby. You be good but have fun!”
“Kay. Love ya, Mama.”
“I love you too.” My voice cracks, and for the next few moments I want so badly to tell Agnes. I want to wait until she’s back on the phone and tell her everything, send my location, get Luca taken in. Scott would come to get me, I just know it, even if he wasn’t assigned.
I could let Scott show up like my knight in shining armor, get back to my Rosie girl. But I don’t know much more now than when I started. Plus, all of this was unsanctioned. I went on my own, not on orders. I’ll be in trouble when I get back, but if I have information…
If I give up now, the charges won’t stick, and who knows what Luca will do. Come after me, probably, and then he’ll find out about Rosa. She looks so much like him. The moment he sees her, he’ll know, and then what?
I hang up the phone and delete the call log, slowly walking back over to him. Since he’s on his stomach, it’s easier to slide the phone back into his pocket.
God, I miss her. Sobs choke my throat and I stay huddled in the corner as I cry, my shoulders shaking as tears consume me.
After a few moments, I collect myself, taking in deep, shaking breaths through my nostrils and blowing them out of my mouth.
I breathe out a sigh of relief, but then a wave of exhaustion threatens to take me under. I’d barely slept the night before, my mind and body at war with each other. It’s not like that’s changed, but talking to Rosa, knowing she is all right, has done wonders for me.
I think I can actually sleep for a few hours. But I can’t sleep next to Luca. I grab a blanket and a pillow. I drape them on the floor and lie down on my side, but the hardwood hurts my hip. I grunt and roll over, but then it’s my back that feels too straight, somehow.
After what seems like hours of tossing and turning, I get up with a groan, climbing back into bed. Fuck it. He’s too asleep to try anything, and I guess he wouldn’t, anyway. He was the one who had pulled away the last time. I’d been ready to let him do anything to me.
I wrinkle my nose in disgust at myself and turn toward the door, scooting as far away from him as I can. My eyelids feel heavy as I close them, and I’m out in moments.
When I wake, there’s no sunlight coming in through the blinds, and Luca Rossi, big bad mob boss, is wrapped around me like a koala, his face pressed against the nape of my neck.
He breathes out a grunt as I wiggle, his arms tightening around me. It takes me a few half-asleep moments to realize the hardness pressing against my ass is his dick. I flush all over, cursing my half-Irish heritage again. At least he’s still asleep and can’t see how much this is affecting me.
His breath hot against my neck makes my skin pop out in goosebumps and I wriggle again, trying to get out of his grasp. Nothing. He doesn’t even stir.
“Luca,” I hiss, pushing at his arms.
He murmurs something against my skin and I have to choke back a moan as he rolls his hips. My dress has bunched up around my hips as I slept, and there’s nothing but the fabric of his slacks separating his dick from my thong and bare cheeks.
He could lift up my leg, free himself, and almost slide right in. God, I want that. I want him, but this is ridiculous. He kidnapped me. He hates me. We’re on opposing sides.
It has to be hormones. Some kind of biological instinct. My body knows that we have perfect offspring like Rosa, that’s all it is. It has to be.
Because I’m not crazy enough to fall in love with a mobster. Not after the way I was raised.
"Luca!” I say again, louder, and he snorts awake, pulling away from me like he’s going to get burned. It’s almost offensive.
“Fuck,” he curses, his voice low and thick with sleep, making a thrill rush down my spine. “What time is it?”
I swallow hard, ignoring the heat pooled between my legs. “How would I know? You took my phone.”
He grunts and sits up. I can’t see him, only feel the movement of the bed. I don’t dare turn around. He’ll see it in my eyes.
Luca stands and pulls on his shirt, buttoning it only halfway while scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t look at me.
“You’re leaving?”
“It’s nine in the evening. I’ve slept all day. I’ve got work to do.”
“Thought you said you didn’t trust anyone to watch me but you.”
“I just need a couple of hours. Diego will be here.”
Diego. I remember him. Stoic, terrifying, arms locked around me as he dragged me to that Escalade. Great.
I open my mouth to snark something else, and then he unlocks the door, jerks it open, and leaves. The click of the deadbolt makes fury wash all over me.
How dare he? How dare he lay here, looking like he does, pressing his erection against my ass? I know I shouldn’t want him, but he knows I do. He can see right through me. But he hates me. I hate him too.
Don’t I?
I tell myself I’m mad because there’s less chance of escaping with Diego. But really, am I just mad because he can’t possibly want me as much as I want him?