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Sofia POV
“Soon,” he said simply. “Cole will make the arrangements. He’s already promised you’ll have everything you need in Texas. He’s assigning you a new bodyguard as well.”
He paused, then added, “I’m sure you’ll like him.”
The air in the car turned cold.
A new bodyguard.
So that was it. Matteo wouldn’t be coming with me.
I turned my face to the window, blinking hard to hide the sting behind my eyes. The city blurred into gray shapes and flashing lights, my reflection pale against the glass.
If Matteo wasn’t going with me, then the wedding wasn’t happening.
Not now.
Not ever.
Because what I felt when I was in his arms wasn’t something I could walk away from.
And no matter what my father planned…
I would find a way to stay with him.
Even if it meant burning everything else down
Matteo’s POV
The news of Sofia Romano’s marriage spread through New York like wildfire.
Everyone in the underworld was talking about it bosses, capos, even the street dealers who didn’t know her name but knew her story. The spoiled, red haired Mafia princess was about to become the peace offering in a bloody feud between two powerful gangs.
A marriage meant to stop a war.
But the part that haunted me most was this why did she have to be the one sacrificed?
I tried not to think about it. Tried to bury it under loyalty, under duty. But that night, as the city quieted and the house went still, I found myself restless, pacing the length of my room like a caged wolf.
The door creaked open.
I frowned. Luca wouldn’t come this late unless there was trouble, and no one else had the right to enter my room without knocking.
When I turned, my heart nearly stopped.
“Sofia?”
She stood in the doorway, framed by the faint yellow light of the hallway. Her hair was loose, tumbling down in messy waves over her nightgown. Her eyes too bright, too alive found mine.
For a second, I relaxed. Then the realization hit.
If anyone saw her here if Cole found his future wife standing in my bedroom in the middle of the night I’d be a dead man before sunrise.
“Sofia,” I said quietly, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”
She didn’t answer.
Her gaze drifted over me, lingering far too long. I realized, with a flash of panic, that I was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. I grabbed the blanket and threw it across my lap.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, my voice rough. “Did something happen?”
She shook her head slowly. “Can I sleep with you?”
For a full second, I thought I’d misheard her.
The words hit me like a gunshot.
“What?”
Her tone was calm, almost casual. “I said, can I sleep with you?”
I blinked, trying to make sense of it. “This isn’t funny, Sofia.”
“I’m not joking,” she said softly. “I just want to sleep. With you. For tonight.”
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “Have you lost your mind? Do you realize what you’re saying? If anyone sees you here”
“I know exactly what I’m saying.”
Her voice was steady now, too steady.
I stared at her, torn between anger and something far more dangerous. “You’re seventeen,” I reminded her.
She tilted her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t talk like you’re ancient. You’re twenty-five.”
“Eight years,” I muttered under my breath. “Eight years too many.”
"But my husband to be is thirty, she answered".
She took a step closer. “I’m lonely, Matteo,” she whispered. “And I like you.”
I froze.
“I know you like me too,” she continued. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching. You hate that I’m marrying Cole. You hate that someone else is taking me away from you. So don’t pretend.”
Her words landed like blows. Each one stripping away the walls I’d built to protect both of us.
For a moment, I said nothing. The air between us grew heavier, thicker with something neither of us dared to name.
Finally, I murmured, “I’m not a good man, Sofia.”
To my surprise, her face softened as if my warning had only confirmed what she wanted to hear. Relief flashed in her eyes.
“So you like me,” she said quietly.
“This is crazy,” I said with a harsh laugh. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
