Sofia groans, dropping her head back dramatically. "Fine. But I'm not pretending to be happy about it."
"Wouldn't dream of asking you to."
Later that evening, we arrive at Vito's penthouse. The ride up in the elevator is tense—Sofia's been quiet since we left the Greenhouse, and I can practically feel the nervous energy radiating off her.
"You okay?" I ask as we reach the top floor.
"Just peachy," she mutters, but there's something vulnerable in her expression that makes me want to reach out and reassure her.
Before I can say anything else, the elevator doors open and we're swept into the controlled chaos of family dinner. Olga immediately commandeers Sofia, leading her toward where Rina is waiting with a carefully hopeful expression.
I hang back, watching the reunion unfold. It's awkward as hell, but at least Sofia doesn't bolt immediately. Small victories.
"Dante." Marco appears at my elbow, nodding toward Vito's study. "Boss wants to see you."
Shit. The look on his face tells me this isn't a social call.
I catch Sofia's eye and see confusion flicker across her face. Yeah, this can't be good.
Marco, Rafa, and the capos are positioned around the room, making it clear that something has definitely happened. Vito sits behind his desk, rubbing his forehead in thought.
"Kieran is trying to force a deal," Rafa starts without preamble.
"He caught wind of Sofia's stunt at Beehive last week," Marco continues, "but it's not just Sofia the Costellos are watching anymore."
"What do you mean?" I ask, taking a few steps closer but staying ready to move if needed.
"They have no interest in Elena," Vito finally speaks. "Rafa was right—they know she's not a virgin. And they made it clear they're watching all of us."
"Do you want me to shift focus to Gianna?" At least protecting Gianna doesn't involve daily escape attempts and games of sexual chicken at the breakfast table.
Vito shakes his head, pushing an envelope across his desk. "No. Kieran declared in his recent correspondence he's not interested in her either."
"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, reaching for the envelope and flipping through its contents. A single sheet of printer paper accompanies a handful of photographs. Gianna—sans clothing—is pictured in several moments of pleasure with someone I can't quite make out. "Oh."
"Tell me about it. Now I have to live the rest of my life with the image of my naked sister burned into my eyelids," Rafa gags before Vito shuts him up with a look.
I shove the pictures back into the envelope and focus on the paper:She's not who we want. We want Sofia Gallo, and we'll know if you try to leverage anyone else for the deal.
"Shit." I read over the two sentences again. "Have you told Rina yet?"
Vito shakes his head, anger pulling his eyebrows together as he drums his knuckles on the desk. "Let's just make it through this dinner before we have to tell anybody they're specifically demanding Sofia."
"Just like that?" The words tumble out before I can stop them. "You know that won't go over well?—"
Vito's expression hardens, and I'm met with the stony glare of Don Vito Rosso. "Are you questioning me?"
"No sir." I take a step back, putting more distance between us. "Whatever you have in mind will be in the Commission's favor, I'm sure."
He gives me a look I haven't seen in almost a decade, one that makes it clear he's questioning my loyalty. The disappointment in his eyes hits me hard. Vito became a mentor to me after my mother was killed—kept me off the streets when I had nothing and no one else. I owe him my life, and having him question my loyalty feels like failing him completely.
"Go," he says finally. "Enjoy the party."
I nod and head for the door, my mind racing. The Costellos want Sofia specifically. They're watching our every move. And I just spent the morning promising her a job at RRE while trying not to think about how her hand felt on my thigh.
This job just got a whole lot more complicated.
"Ah, Vittore!" Olga's voice greets us as we emerge from the study, wine in hand. Vito's tense Don façade immediately falters as he welcomes his mother-in-law with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for inviting us over for dinner tonight."
