Page 14 of Boss of Brooklyn

Sofia's eyes fill with tears, but this time, I think they might be happy ones. She leans down, kissing me softly. “Thank you,” she murmurs against my lips.

As Sofia drifts off to sleep in my arms, I stare at the ceiling, my mind racing. I know that by helping her, by getting this involved, I'm putting her in danger. My world isn't safe, and the deeper she gets pulled in, the greater the risk. But there’s no going back after what we’ve shared tonight.

I think about the fire at Nonna's. Was it really an accident? Or was it a message? A warning? The thought sends a chill down my spine. If someone is trying to get to me through Sofia...

Looking down at her peaceful face, I make a silent vow. I'll protect her, no matter the cost. Because Sofia Romano isn't just a passing infatuation.

She's becoming my everything. And I meant what I said. She’s mine.

And that terrifies me more than any rival family or business threat ever could. I've spent years building walls around my heart, keeping everyone at arm's length. It was safer that way, cleaner. But Sofia has crashed through those walls like they were never there in the first place.

I think about the future, about what this means for both of us. Can I really bring her into my world? Can I ask her to accept the danger, the secrecy, the constant looking over our shoulders?

But as I hold her close, feeling her heartbeat against my skin, I know it's too late to turn back now.

Because now, she's not just in my bed.

She's under my skin, in my blood, and I don't think I could let her go even if I wanted to. I realize at that moment that I’m in love with her. I’m in love, for the first time in my life.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the windows, I make a decision. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to help her rebuild her dream. With that thought, I finally allow myself to drift off to sleep, Sofia's warm presence anchoring me in a way I've never experienced before. I make a mental note to reach out to Vince Russo tomorrow, maybe his ideas about going legit aren’t so crazy after all.

Chapter 8

Sofia

Iwake to the sound of Luca's phone buzzing on the nightstand. Sunlight streams through the windows, painting the room in a soft, golden glow. For a moment, I forget where I am. Then it all comes rushing back—the fire, the devastation, and the night spent in Luca's arms. The memory of how he claimed my body sends a shiver down my spine.

Luca Del Toro stirs beside me, his arm tightening around my waist. “Ignore it,” he mumbles, nuzzling into my hair. His breath is warm against my neck, and I'm tempted to do just that, to lose myself in his embrace and forget about the world outside.

But curiosity gets the better of me. I reach for his phone, intending to silence it, when a text notification catches my eye:

“I was beginning to think you didn’t have it in you. Thanks for taking care of our little restaurant problem. Owe you one.” It’s from Dominic Esposito.

My blood runs cold. I read the message again, hoping I've misunderstood. But the words remain unchanged, stark and damning on the screen.

“Luca,” I say, my voice trembling. “What is this?”

He sits up instantly, alert at my tone. When he sees his phone in my hand, his face pales. The look in his eyes—a mix of panic and guilt—tells me everything I need to know before he even opens his mouth.

“Sofia, I can explain—”

“Explain what?” I push away from him, scrambling out of bed. The silk sheets that had felt so luxurious last night now seem to cling to me, trapping me. “That you had my restaurant burned down? That this was all some sick game to you?”

Luca reaches for me, but I flinch away. The hurt that flashes across his face almost makes me waver. Almost. “No, Sofia, it's not like that. Please, let me explain—”

But I can't hear him over the roaring in my ears. Everything I thought I knew about Luca, about us, comes crashing down around me. The past few weeks play out in my mind like a movie, every scene now tainted with suspicion. “I trusted you,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. “I let you in, I let myself believe—”

“Sofia, please,” Luca pleads, getting out of bed. He's wearing nothing but his boxers, and I force myself to look away, to not remember how it felt to be held by him. “It's not what you think. Dominic is—”

“I don't want to hear it!” I snap, grabbing my clothes and hastily putting them on. My hands shake as I button my shirt, and I hate myself for the weakness. “God, I'm such an idiot. Was this your plan all along? Make me fall for you just to destroy everything I care about?”

Luca's face contorts with pain. “No, I would never—” He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “Sofia, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with the fire. I would never hurt you like that.”

But I'm beyond listening. It's all too much. I grab my purse and head for the door, my heart pounding so hard I think it might burst out of my chest.

“Sofia, wait!” Luca calls after me. I hear him fumbling for his clothes, but I don't turn back. I can't bear to look at him, to see the man I thought I knew—the man I was falling in love with—and reconcile him with this.

I flee his penthouse, tears blurring my vision as I hail a cab. The driver gives me a concerned look in the rearview mirror, but I manage to choke out my address. As we drive through the city, I watch the familiar streets pass by, wondering how everything could have changed so drastically in just one night.

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