Page 44 of The Don's Soulmate

The cold night air bites at my skin as I watch his car disappear into the shadows. I’m shocked, confused, angry. Why would he abandon me like this? The tears filling my eyes blur the world around me and the endless rain doesn’t help.

"Damn you, Ettore..." I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. My hands ball into fists at my sides as I struggle to make sense of his actions. I’m terrified of being stranded here, on an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere, in a dress half-torn from how he fucked me in the car.

Is this why he saved me three times over? To abandon me when I don’t fit the perfect ideal? To leave me stranded somewhere I could be taken advantage of all because I expressed my need to fulfil familial obligations?

If I don't marry Ugo Caputo, the consequences will be dire. I can already imagine the whispers in the dark corners of the city, the tarnished reputation that would follow us all. If I was to run away with Ettore to let him set me up, doesn’t he understand I’d never be free?

My father and brother would hunt me down. Ugo would come seeking revenge.

It’s not a choice.

With shaking hands, I dig my phone from my purse and frantically dial Sofia's number. It rings once, twice, agony gnawing at my insides. What's happening to me?

"Carlotta?" Sofia's worried tone filters through the line. "Are you okay?"

Tears flood my eyes at the sound of her voice. "I...I don't know," I whisper. "Can you come get me?"

"Of course, I'm on my way. Send me the location." The line goes dead, and I sink to the damp ground, remembering to send Sofia the pin. That’s it. One call, and she’d be there. No questions asked.

But Ettore couldn’t do that, could he? He used me, seduced me, and then left me to fend for myself.

What feel like hours pass by and I wait for her arrival, trying to steady my breathing. I think of all that happened and press trembling fingers to my lips, remembering the searing heat of his kiss. The possessive grip of his hands on my waist. The dark promise in his gaze.

And then that same, petrifying moment when he threw me out of his car for making a choice that never was a choice in the first place.

A car horn blares in the distance, snapping me from my thoughts. I scramble to my feet as Sofia's sedan pulls up, headlights blinding in the darkness through the rain.

She steps out, her eyes wide with worry as she takes in my appearance – disheveled hair, tear-stained cheeks, and the remnants of Ettore's passionate touch.

"Carlotta, oh my god, what happened?" she asks, rushing over to envelop me in a comforting embrace. I cling to her, grateful for her unwavering support. “You’re soaking wet!”

"Let's talk in the car," I say, my voice hoarse. "I’m so tired, Sof.”

We slide into the luxurious leather seats, the scent of her expensive perfume filling the air. Sofia starts the engine and turns on the heat before driving off, keeping her eyes on the roadas she waits for me to speak. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken questions.

"Carlotta, you don't have to tell me everything, but I need to know if you're in danger," she finally says, her voice gentle yet firm.

I take a deep breath, hesitating. How can I explain my encounter with Ettore without revealing the depth of our connection? The forbidden nature of our desire?

"Something happened tonight," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. "I went out with Ugo. We went to an art gallery and there, he saw Ettore Mancini.”

“The man who picked a fight with him to protect you that night in the alley?” Sofia asks.

“The very same,” I nod.

“And then?”

“Ugo got really mad. He said I set up this night to meet Ettore and accused us of an affair. He.. he,” I don’t know how to tell her the way he pulled me by my hair, chocked me by the neck in front of dozens of people.

"Did he threaten you? Did he lay a hand on you?" Sofia's eyes narrow, her protective instincts flaring. "If he did, I swear I'll—"

"No, no, it's not like that," I interrupt, shaking my head. Sofia isn’t from our world. She doesn’t understand how dangerous a man like Ugo can be. With regards to this, I must keep her in the dark. "He got mad and Ettore insisted I come with him. When I said I want to go home, he refused to drop me. He… he said I deserve better. I just...I don't know what to do, Sofia. It's complicated."

"Carlotta," she says softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together."

"Thank you," I murmur, tears welling up again. As the car speeds through the night, my thoughts turn back to Ettore – his touch, his scent, the way he made me feel alive.

By the time the car pulls up to my family's estate, I’m trembling with fear and no amount of time spent bracing myself for the confrontation ahead puts me at ease. Knowing Ugo, he would have called ahead.

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