Page 17 of Ruthless Mafia Heir

"It is." I smirk slightly. With the influence I have at this university, I know I can get anyone I want on this guest list, and I’m sure Sophia will not miss out on the chance to see what this place has in store for her.

All at once, I spot her—on the arm of one of her friends, Rachel, I think her name is. She’s wearing a dark blue dress, her hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes outlined with a dark liner that makes them pop against her pale skin. And when she sees me standing there, she stops in her tracks.

"Ah, Sophia, Rachel," the host greets them smoothly. "Let me take your coats. If you head to the bar, you can pick up your drink tickets."

He fills them in on everything they need to know, but Sophia’s gaze is fixed on me. She looks... I can’t quite read her expression, but I get the feeling she’s not entirely pleased about seeing me here. It’s been a while since I visited the restaurant, and I’ve been craving her presence, more than I thought I would.

She moves toward the betting tables with her friend at her side, and I watch her with amusement. Does she know how much she turns me on? She can hardly be ignorant of the fact. I follow her to the table, plucking another drink off a waiter’s tray as I go by, and then slide up beside her, flashing her a grin.

I notice her body tensing as I draw close to her, and she doesn’t look me in the eye.

"Nice to see you here tonight," I murmur to her, quiet enough that I’m sure she will be the only person able to hear me.

"I didn’t think you were going to be here. If I had, I would never—"

"Red or black, babe?" Rachel chirps up from beside us as she goes to cast the dice across the spinning board in the center. Sophia quickly plasters a smile on her face.

"Red," she replies, and Rachel throws the dice. It lands on red, and she claps her hands together delightedly.

"You’re my lucky charm," she remarks, bumping her hip against Sophia’s. Rachel hardly seems to notice how stiff Sophia is right now, how clearly done she is with trying to play nice. I shift slightly so that my arm is pressed against hers, and I can tell half of her wants to pull away and half of her wants to move in for more.

Rachel continues to play, chatting with a few of the other guests who have started to crowd around the board. She has an easy, bright way about her, and she seems unbothered by the enormity of this event. Unlike Sophia. Sophia is distinctly aware of how she fits in with this world—or, rather, how she doesn’t.

There are a few people from the Silencios here tonight, though, of course, we pretend we’ve never seen each other in our lives. If anyone knew what we did, then there would be trouble. Our secret society needs to remain that way—secret.

Even if some part of me wants to spill it all to Sophia, right then and there.

"Can I get anyone a drink?" I ask, glancing around the table, deliberately letting my gaze linger on Sophia a moment longer than it had to. To my surprise, she takes me up on it at once.

"I’ll help," she shoots back and heads over to the bar as the others turn their attention back to gambling. I can’t help but stare at the sway of her ass in that dress, the way it tick-tocks from side to side. Is she doing that on purpose? I can’t tell.

But she doesn’t head to the bar. No, she walks straight out of the back exit, which leads to a large veranda outside. It’s usually occupied by smokers and people looking to get lucky with their partner of choice, but it’s empty when I follow her to it.

As soon as she’s sure we’re alone, she whips around to face me, her eyes flashing with irritation.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she demands. I raise my hands, playing innocent.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yes, you do, Blake! You organized this, didn’t you? You... you put all of this together, you made it so I couldn’t say no and I’d have to run into you. As though the restaurant wasn’t enough."

"Hey, I didn’t make you come," I reply and flash her a grin. "Though I can. If you’d like."

Her cheeks darken to scarlet, and she takes a step toward me, her hands clenching at her sides.

"You can’t talk to me like that!”

"Why not?" I reply, like it should be obvious. "You’re the one who led me out here. If you don’t want to have this conversation any longer, you’re welcome to leave."

She doesn’t move a muscle. My grin widens. That’s what I thought. She can talk a big game about the way this has unfolded, about how much she doesn’t want to be around me. But right now, she’s the one who has chosen to be here, with me, in private, where nobody is watching us.

And she knows just how dangerous that is.

"I need to make sure you understand that you can’t make a habit of this," she shoots back. Her eyes are blazing into mine, her teeth digging into her full bottom lip like she wishes she was biting me instead.

"A habit of what?"

I lift my hand to her face as I murmur the words. My thumb grazes, just for a moment, over her skin. Much as she tries to disguise it, I can see what that does to her. I see the sharp shock of desire that threatens to get the better of her.

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