Page 7 of His Tesoro

I felt a strange twinging in my chest.

Every muscle in my body was tense for the rest of the interminable ride to the airport. The moment we came to a stop outside my private jet, I was out the door, needing to create as much distance between Sofiya and me as possible.

I buttoned my suit jacket and turned towards the plane, eyeing the metal stairs leading up to the door. As Angelo lifted Sofiya’s wheelchair from the back of the car, it hit me—how did people in wheelchairs get on planes? I’d never given it a moment’s thought until now.

I signaled Enzo, one of my top guards. “Check with the airline staff to see how to get her on the plane,” I commanded, voice low.

I ran my hand through my hair as Romeo joined me. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Rustik kept some secrets.”

“Would it have changed your decision?”

I knew what he was asking—would I have rejected this match if I had known she was in a wheelchair? As Don, I knew that any sign of weakness would be exploited. Having a wife already made me vulnerable—my enemies would certainly try to use her to get to me—but having one who was so visibly defective? I grimaced. The word felt wrong in my mind as Sofiya rounded the car, stopping when she was beside me. She tilted her face to meet my gaze, her plump red lips mesmerizing me. Wheelchair or not, she was perfection.

We stared at each other in silence, a slight blush darkening on her cheeks as the seconds ticked by.

Enzo re-joined us. “Boss,” he said, glancing at Sofiya. “The crew said there is a wheelchair ramp, but because we didn’t notify them, it could be up to an hour before it’s available.”

“That’s unacceptable. Tell them to get it here faster.”

Enzo grimaced. “I tried, Boss.”

I closed my eyes, breathing through the rage. This was why I didn’t like to leave New York. Everyone in the city knew who I was and who they were dealing with, which wasn’t always the case elsewhere.

“How do you usually get on planes?” I asked Sofiya.

She looked startled. “I’ve never been on a plane. But I guess I could, um, scoot up the stairs.”

I glared at her, utterly confused at what her life had been. How had she never traveled before?

“I don’t have time for this. I’ll carry you up the stairs and then we can fucking get out of here.”

Sofiya fidgeted with the skirt of her dress again. “Oh, well, it’s not super safe to be carried…” She trailed off as she took in my expression.

“I’m not going to drop you,” I gritted out. “Come on.”

I strode to the plane stairs, not looking behind to see if she was following. She would if she knew what was good for her.

Romeo kept pace with me. We reached the bottom of the steps and turned. Sofiya was making her way towards me, every push of the wheelchair slow and awkward. Angelo walked beside her, leaning down slightly to speak. She laughed at whatever he said, and my jaw clenched.

“You still married her.” There was something in Romeo’s expression—a knowing in his smile—that put me on edge.

“What was I supposed to do? You were the one who said we needed this alliance.”

“We do.” Romeo shrugged.

We watched Sofiya and Angelo approach in silence. Did he have to walk so close to her? And what the fuck could possibly be so funny to make Sofiya smile so much?

“I can carry her onto the plane,” Romeo said.

I whirled to face him, something hot burning inside me.

He laughed, clasping my shoulder before heading up the stairs. “I’ll check with the pilot to make sure we’re set for takeoff.”

“Finally,” I said when Sofiya stopped in front of me. I eyed her, trying to figure out the best way to lift her. “Put your arm around my neck.” I managed to get one arm around her back and the other underneath her legs. Angelo had to help when the many layers of her dress got in the way, but then she was in my arms with a little squeak.

Her dress made holding her a bit cumbersome, but something about the feel of her loosened the knot of tension in my chest. She clutched tightly at my neck and shoulder as I headed up the steps. The warmth of her skin pressed against mine, and the wind brushed her hair across my face.

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