by S. M. Soto
I hear Papa’s angered shout from inside and I flinch. Turning around, I sulk all the way back in there after him for another one of his lessons.
My eyes peel open, the remnants of my dream fading. I stare up at the ceiling, remembering that day. It was one of many that showed me how little my father cared for me. Maybe my mother just wanted to believe he loved me as much as he did. I’ve never felt it.
I shift my gaze from the ceiling, toward the heat emanating beside me, and my heart slows as I watch her sleep peacefully. Sophia’s laying on her side, facing me. She has one hand slipped under the pillow beneath her head and the other resting on her stomach. Even in sleep, she had her hand resting on him. She’s always been beautiful, but in sleep, she looked more innocent and angelic than anything I’d ever encountered. Her plump lips are slightly parted. Her breathing even and deep. Unable to help myself, I trace her brow bone, trailing the pad of my finger down her cheek and across her lips.
I lean in, pressing a light kiss to those lips and she makes this little moan in her sleep. I chuckle, committing every single one of her features to memory for a little bit longer before I roll out of bed. I get dressed, heading straight to my office. It’s still early as shit, but I have things to do and as much as I’d like to lay in bed with her forever, I can’t.
I spin the crystal decanter filled with amber liquid back and forth between my hands, eyeing the contents of the folder splayed out across my desk that Monte and Clarence compiled for me.
I’m fucked.
Plain and simple.
Well and truly fucked unless I somehow bury the evidence on me and get rid of the main men building the case against me. The case moved from my father and his illegal activities to me and my past. I’ve always been careful, but as I look at the paperwork in front of me, I realize I haven’t been as careful as I thought.
Scrubbing a rough hand over my face, I brush back my hair and lean back in the leather chair. I need to figure out a way to make this go away. I can’t have this affecting Sophia. I won’t.
Lifting one of the grainy photos in my hands, I glare down at it. There’s no mistaking that it’s me in the photographs on the docks where the shipping containers with women were held. Should’ve known the FBI were tailing. I thought we had all angles covered, but of course, I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking.
All I was thinking about was getting rid of the men that hurt Sophia. Getting rid of every last one of them. Eliminating any potential threats before my son is born.
I switch to the grainy photograph behind that one, another photo of me, this time in Vegas taking care of Miles and the HawkFire situation. What I find odd is the fact that there are only photographs of me. None with the rest of the guys. Just me. As if the person behind all of this is only trailing me. It looks like they want me to go down for everything. I rub my thumb over my bottom lip in a contemplative motion. I don’t want to have to take out an entire clan of FBI agents, but I will.
They have no idea who they’re fucking with.
When the door to my office suddenly opens, I set the photographs down, watching as Matteo strides inside. Bastard didn’t even knock.
“I had Magdalene place the piece in your quarters. As for the rest of the famiglia, is this still what you want?”
I nod.
It is most definitely what I want. A while ago, I had Monte put in a special order with Cartier for Sophia’s engagement ring.
She was mine, there was no doubt in my mind about it. Giving her the wedding she deserves is what I want for her. And because she’s Sophia, she’d never ask me for anything. She’d never ask for a big wedding or anything that came out of my pocket. That was just who she was.
We could go the simple route, with a small ceremony, keeping it hush-hush. But there’s no point. She’s going to become my wife, she’s carrying my son who will one day inherit all of this. The famiglia will ask questions. It’s better to let them see whatever I want them to than the other way around. And a big, Italian wedding with la famiglia is the best way to do it.
The surprise I have for her upstairs has to do with the wedding and whatever she chooses is completely up to her. I’ll let her weigh the pros and cons, because as long as I get to have her as my wife, I couldn’t care less about any of this other shit. I’m leaving the decision as hers.
Matteo surprisingly takes the seat across from me and his gaze settles on the photographs and reports scattered across my desk. I watch his brows pull down and the emotions play out. I haven’t told him yet. Haven’t told anyone yet.
“They’re pinning everything on me.”
His eyes flash to mine. “What did you just say?”
Turning everything in the folder around, I slide it toward him. “Seems they weren’t satisfied with you. Maybe they’re starting with me and then moving onto you, but everything, it’s all on me. They have enough for a case. Possibly even a trial. If it comes to that.”
“It won’t.” There’s a threat in his voice. His face turning an odd shade of red as he tries to contain his anger. Thought he would be happy it’s me instead of him. Guess I was wrong.
“You’re right,” I say, voice ominous. “When I’m through with them, they won’t have a chance.”
Matteo settles back against the leather chair. Eyeing me. “I assume you have a plan.”
“Don’t I always.”
“I can also presume she doesn’t know that you’re being investigated by the FBI yet?”
Definitely not.
My hands curl into fists around the arm handles of the chair. “She won’t have to know. I’m handling it. The last thing I need her worrying about is this.”
“What’s your plan?”
“What do you think?” I smirk.
Matteo nods, trying to stifle the upturn of his mouth. “Family is always the weakest link.”
“I remember.”
With that, Matteo pushes out of the chair and strides toward the door. He pauses before leaving and glances back over his shoulder at me. I raise a brow, waiting for him to say whatever it is he’s going to say next.
“I was wrong about her.”
I refrain from grinding my teeth together. “How so?”
“She may not be a weakness at all. She might just be your motivation.”
With those parting words, he slips out of my study and I glance back down at the papers. Before I can get to any of this. I have one more thing to do and she’s probably outside in the garden.
Of all places, I find her in the library. She’s laying propped up on her side with pillows and a book spread open in her hand. The light from the large, vintage windows casts a warm glow around her. She’s never looked more like an angel than she does now, with all that light surrounding her. I never understood the term glowing when referring to pregnant women. Might be because I didn’t know many pregnant people, but with Sophia. I finally get it. She really is glowing. Everything about her is different. Highlighted. She’s even more beautiful than I thought was fucking possible.
Utterly captivating.
Sweet as an angel.
I stand leaning against the doorjamb, my arms crossed over my chest as I watch her. I take my time, enjoying her from afar, watching her without her knowledge. The way a little smile tugs at her lips as she reads something. The way she brushes stray hairs out of her face when she’s concentrating on certain parts of the story. The way she changes positions, shifting from one side to the other, never once taking her free hand off her swollen belly. My chest fills with pride as I watch her.
She’s mine.
That baby—that’s ours. A part of us.
The single most beautiful thing in my life besides her.
She finally puts her book down, stretching her neck back and yawning. In doing so, she catches me there, watching her and a gorgeous smile lights up her face.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Watching you.”
She fights to hide her smile, closing the book she�
�s reading and setting it down on the table near the fireplace. Closing the distance between us, I reach my hand out to her, palm up.
“Come on, I have something to show you.”
Her brows tug down in question and I leave my hand out, waiting for her to take it. She settles her small palm in mine, my hand engulfing hers as I help her to her feet. I let her keep her questions to herself as we walk out of the library, toward the south wing.
“Is something wrong? What are you showing me?”
I chuckle. “Everything is fine. It’s a…surprise.”
She whips her head toward me, shock etched across her face. It only makes it more comical.
“Is a surprise really that shocking?”
“What? No! Of course not.” She fumbles over her words. And pauses when she sees the teasing grin on my face.
“You’re such an ass.” She pouts, jabbing her elbow into my side.
Chuckling, I sling my arm around her shoulder and press my lips against the side of her head in a soft kiss.
When we get into the bedroom, I guide her to the bed and instruct her to sit. Turning on my heel, I disappear into the walk-in closet, my gaze fixing on the garment bag. It looks good as new. It’s been preserved all these years. I had Magdalene and Matteo do me some favors.
Inhaling a deep breath, I unhook the hanger from my side of the clothes rack and fold the garment bag over my arm before walking back inside the room. Sophia perks up on the bed when I walk back inside the bedroom. Her eyes widen on the garment bag and dart back up to mine.
“What’s this?” she asks as I lay the garment bag down on the bed next to her. “Is this the…surprise?”
I scrub an anxious hand through my hair, unsure of how to explain this to her. So I decide to unzip the garment bag and pull out the item inside. I lay it on the bed and my heart twinges. It’s such an odd reaction to have to a dress, but I haven’t touched something that belonged to her, something that she wore in a very long time.
I hear Sophia’s sharp intake of breath. She reaches out a trembling hand, smoothing it over the detailed lace material. Her movements are slow and thoughtful. Like she’s afraid she might ruin it. With how old the dress is, it’s a possibility.
“Is this…?”Her voice is thick and I can see the emotion swimming in her eyes.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out raspier than I intend it to as I stare down at the dress that belonged to my mother. The dress she wore on her wedding day. I close my eyes, picturing the photos of her in this dress. How happy she looked. In every photo, she looked up at my father with stars in her eyes. I still can’t understand why.
I clear my throat. “I thought it would be a good time to talk about what you want—in terms of a wedding.”
Her gaze darts up to mine. “I-I well…I haven’t really thought much about it. Okay, actually yeah, I have.” She laughs, shaking her head. She looks back down at the dress, running her fingers over the pearls sewn into the bodice. “I guess I just never thought you’d want a wedding.”
Sliding my hand around her neck, I tug her gaze toward mine. “I want whatever you want. So long as at the end of the day, you’re both safe and everyone knows you’re mine.”
She inhales sharply. “I want that too,” she whispers, looking up at me with affection glimmering in those green orbs.
“Then tell me.” I step into her, cupping her cheeks in my palms. “You said you’ve thought about it before. What does the wedding you’ve always imagined look like?”
She closes her eyes. “I’ve always wanted something outdoors, with lots of flowers and lights. I’ve always wanted all my family there…but….” She clears her throat and I can hear the pain in her voice as she goes on. “I want that for us. Something we can look back on and smile about. And, I don’t know if this is going to be a problem, but I want to wait until this little guy is born. I want him to be a part of our big day.”
I grin down at her, liking the idea of waiting. Blowing out a breath, I decide to spring the idea of inviting la famiglia to the wedding on her. It’s tradition. And though I haven’t followed most traditional senses, if we’re going to be married and she’s going to be by my side through it all, there will come a time when they have to meet her. They have to know her. And trust us.
“How would you feel about hiring a wedding planner and giving her your ideas? And the guest list…” I pause trying to figure out how to gather my thoughts, but Sophia beats me to it.
“I want our entire family and that means your family too. I understand that this…this life is your family. These men are your famiglia so that means I want them there too. So long as our son is safe. I don’t mind it.”
Dipping down, I press a kiss against her lips and when I pull back, my brows tug down into a frown. “You’re sure? This is your dream wedding after all.”
She grins. “As long as I’m marrying you at the end of the day, I don’t care, Creed.”
“The dress…I don’t expect you to wear it, but if you want to have it tailored or save any part of it for your dress…” I trail off, not even sure what I’m trying to get at. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, but is that what she would want, to wear a used dress that belonged to my deceased mother?
I’m not cut out for this shit.
“I can try it on, well, once I’m not the size of a whale.” I glare down at her. She’s not a whale. “I love this, Creed. The fact that you thought of incorporating this means everything to me. I’m sure it means everything to your mother too. Thank you,” she whispers.
“One more thing.”
She raises her brows. “What is it?”
“Picking a date.”
Her face breaks out into a wide grin. “Well, this little nugget will be here in a few weeks. Why not wait until he’s around two to three months old. So, August or September. The last week of August or the first week of September.”
“You got it,” I whisper over her lips, kissing her.
“Now, I have another surprise.”
Her eyes widen and she giggles. “You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?”
“Get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath. I know she’s scared. The last time she went anywhere, it ended in a complete disaster, but this time is different. It’s on my terms and my men will be everywhere. There’s no longer the threat of Finlay to worry about. The threat of the underworld has been quiet regarding Sophia.
The longer I keep her hidden, the more questions will arise. Though, I’m not stupid enough to bring her out, pregnant and risk everything. We’re going to a place of my choosing. The private kitchen at La Carta di Fiori Valentina.
“Are you sure dinner is safe?” I can hear the trepidation in her voice. Feel the tremor that runs through her body.
“Where we’re going it is. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Either of you. Understand me? If you don’t feel comfortable going, we won’t, but if you need a night out, even if it’s heavily guarded at a place of my choosing, I’ll give it to you. Like a…date.”
She presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. “A date? We’re engaged, discussing wedding dates, having a baby in a few weeks and we’re just now planning our first date?”
When she says it like that, I can see how ridiculous it sounds.
I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”
“Then let’s go on our first date, Mr. Sabella.”
I smirk, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Go, get dressed.”
We file into the blacked-out SUV, equipped with bulletproof windows. Sophia’s dressed in a gray form-fitting maternity dress that shows off her newfound cleavage and a pair of Converse. I told her to dress casual. No point in her dressing up and killing herself to wear heels. And she still looks gorgeous. She could wear anything and blow me away. Especially now, while pregnant. She’s like a fucking siren, calling to me. I can’t seem to get enough of her. She places her hand in my lap, nerv
ously toying with the material of my suit slacks. I know she’s scared, and she has every right to be. But I’d never bring her out, never risk both of their lives if I knew we weren’t completely safe.
I set my palm down on her hand, stopping her nervous fidgeting. She glances up at me and I see the fear in her eyes.
“Everything is going to be fine, Angel, I promise.”
She nods, causing her freshly curled hair to fall into her face. I push the luscious strands back, not wanting them to cover her face or her eyes.
“We’re here, boss.”
I glance up at the sound of Monte’s voice in the driver’s seat. Lorenzo is seated in the passenger seat and the SUV behind us has Clarence and the rest of the guys. I notched up the security at Valentina’s just for tonight. Everyone is on high alert. Anyone who doesn’t belong to la famiglia aren’t allowed in the building. I have men stationed outside Valentina’s as well as soldiers on every corner of the street looking out for suspicious activity.
I scour the streets outside of the darkened window, spotting the rest of the guys file out of the SUV beside us. Pushing the door open, I help Sophia out and guide her toward the back entrance. She glances around, taking everything in. She squeezes my hand, her own clammy with fear. I can tell she’s still nervous.
“What is this place?” she asks as I guide her through the back entrance. The high ceilings and darkened atmosphere swallow us as well as the low melodic hum of Italian music. It was my mother’s favorite. I remember coming here as a kid, when it was just being built, a five-star restaurant and lounge bar. When I started getting older, I remember having dinner in the back with my mother while Matteo was off somewhere, doing something else for the famiglia.
This was her space.
This was the place built just for her. And even now, years later, I can still feel her here. I can still hear her laugh bouncing off these walls, though now, it’s distorted, not as clear as it used to be. I can still hear what she sounded like when she would sing along to the music, her voice bleeding into the harmonic Italian notes.
