The moment we're through the front door, I'm kissing her again, unable to help myself. Her mouth is cold but warming under mine, and she tastes like salt and courage and everything I thought I'd lost forever.
"You're insane," I murmur against her lips, my hands framing her face. "Absolutely fucking insane."
"Says the man who just drove three hours to pull me out of freezing water," she laughs, and the sound goes straight to my chest, filling up all the empty spaces that have been aching for days.
"You could have died, Sofia. What if I hadn't gotten here in time?"
"But you did." Her eyes are bright, alive in a way I've never seen before. "You came for me."
"Always." I press my forehead against hers, still not quite believing she's real, that she's here, that she wants this. "I'll always come for you, princess."
She shivers again, and I remember she's still freezing, still wrapped in nothing but my jacket. I need to get her warm, get her dry, take care of her the way she deserves.
"Come on," I say, scooping her up again. "Let's get you warmed up."
I carry her upstairs to what I assume is the master bedroom, setting her down gently beside the bed. The room is elegant but comfortable, all warm wood and soft fabrics that somehow suit her perfectly.
I look around, taking in the space properly for the first time. Rich mahogany furniture, expensive artwork, the kind of understated luxury that screams money and power.
"This has got to be Vito's house," I say, my old humor starting to creep back in. For the first time in days, I feel like myself again instead of some broken shell of a man.
"Yeah, why?" Sofia asks, tilting her head.
A grin spreads across my face, the kind that used to get me in trouble when I was a smartass kid on the streets. "I totally have to fuck you in it."
"Oh my God, Dante!" She laughs, scandalized and delighted at the same time. "You're terrible."
"I'm practical," I correct, stepping closer to her. "Think about it—Vito Rosso's personal retreat. His sanctuary. The place where he comes to think and make important decisions." I trace my finger along her collarbone where my jacket has fallen open. "Seems like the perfect place for us to make some very important decisions of our own."
"Sofia..." I'm trying to be the responsible one here, the one who takes care of her first, but she's looking at me like that and my brain is short-circuiting.
"What? Are you going to tell me you don't want to?" She reaches up and traces the line of my jaw with one finger. "Because I can feel exactly how much you want to."
She's right. I do want to, with an intensity that's almost painful. But she's cold and probably still in shock and?—
"Dante." She says my name like a prayer, like a promise. "I've spent four days thinking about what I want my life to look like. This is it. This moment, this choice, with you."
And just like that, all my noble intentions evaporate.
I kiss her again, deeper this time, pouring four days of fear and longing and desperate love into the connection between us. She responds immediately, her arms winding around my neck, pulling me closer.
"You're still freezing," I murmur against her mouth.
"Then warm me up," she whispers back.
I scoop her up again and carry her into the en suite bathroom. It’s nice. Big. Clean. Marble. But I barely see any of it. My focus is on her. Only her.
I turn the shower on full blast, hot water pouring from a rainfall head like it was designed for moments like this. Moments where you come back from the dead, and the only thing that makes you feel alive again is someone else's skin.
"Sofia," I whisper as I peel the jacket off her shoulders. "You okay?"
She nods, but it's a lie. She's trembling. Her body is cold, but her eyes are molten—locked on mine like she already knows what’s coming.
“You trust me?” I murmur, standing and tracing my knuckles along the side of her face.
“With everything,” she whispers.
That’s all I needed.
