Page 12 of Forced Arrangement

“Not if telling her makes her run.” I turn away from the window, pacing the length of the room. “You know as well as I do that if I told her the truth, she’d disappear before we could even get her on a plane. And if that happens, there’s no telling what those bastards will do.”

“But lying to her? Keeping something like this from her…”

“I’m not lying,” I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m just not telling her everything. Not yet.”

Another pause. Franco was never one to push too hard, but I could hear the doubt in his silence. “You really think it’s wise to keep this from her?”

“Wise? No. Necessary? Yes.” I rub a hand over my face, feeling the full weight of everything I’m carrying. “Look, I know how this sounds. But I need her to trust me first. If she thinks I’m just some asshole dragging her back into a life she doesn’t want, she’ll fight me every step of the way. I can’t afford that right now. Neither can she.”

“She’s not going to trust you when she finds out you’ve been keeping this from her,” Franco warns, his voice low. “And she will find out.”

“I’ll deal with that when the time comes,” I say, dismissing the concern. “Right now, the priority is getting her back to New York safely. Everything else can wait.”

Franco sighs, a sound that is more resigned than anything else. “Just be careful, Angelo. You know how dangerous this game is. And you’re playing with more than just your life.”

“I know,” I say, and I mean it. Every word. “I’ll be careful.”

But as I end the call and set the phone down on the table, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m already in too deep. Sophia is more than just a responsibility, more than just a pawn in this dangerous game we are playing. She is…important.

Important in a way I hadn’t allowed anyone to be in a long time.

I down the rest of my whiskey, letting the burn chase away the thoughts I’m not ready to confront. There is no room for doubt here, no room for second-guessing. I have a job to do, and I will see it through. That’s who I am. That is who I’ve always been.

But as I stare out at the city below, the lights twinkling like a thousand promises, I can’t help but wonder if Sophia will forgive me when she learns the truth.

And if I would be able to forgive myself for the choices I was about to make.

Chapter Four

Sophia

The decision weighs on me like a thousand stones, each one carved from the fear of what I might be walking into. But fear isn’t a luxury I can afford right now. Not when the people I care about are at risk.

I have lived my entire life trying to escape the shadow of my family’s legacy, but now it seems that shadow has finally caught up to me, threatening to swallow everything I worked so hard to build.

I can’t let that happen. Not to Justine and not to the small circle of friends who have become my makeshift family in London. And so, despite every instinct screaming at me to stay, to run, to do anything but this, I have made up my mind.

I’m going back to New York.

But it wasn’t for me. It was for them. I had to keep them safe, and the only way to do that was to remove myself from the equation. If I stayed, they would always be in danger, always onestep away from becoming collateral damage in a war that they knew nothing about.

My hands tremble slightly as I pack the last of my things into a suitcase. I haven’t told Justine yet, and the thought of saying goodbye, of seeing the hurt in her eyes, makes my stomach twist with guilt. But this is the right choice. The only choice.

“Hey, Soph?” Justine’s voice calls from the doorway, a bright contrast to the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. “Are you ready for our movie night? I’ve got all the snacks.”

I pause, my back still turned to her as I zip up the suitcase. I want to avoid this moment, to somehow slip away without having to face the inevitable questions. But Justine deserves better than that. She has been my rock, my constant in a world that seems to shift beneath my feet at every turn.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face her. Justine stood there, a wide smile on her face, holding up a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine. Her smile falters when she notices the suitcase at my feet.

“What’s going on, Sarah?” she asks, her voice laced with concern. “Why do you have a suitcase packed?”

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “I have to go back to New York, Justine.”

The expression on her face shifts from concern to shock, then to something that looks like hurt. “Back to New York? What are you talking about? You hate New York.”

“I know,” I say, forcing myself to hold her gaze. “But it’s something I have to do. It’s not safe for me to stay here, and if I don’t go…other people could get hurt.”

Justine’s eyes search mine, trying to understand. “What do you mean ‘not safe’? Is this because of that man—Angelo?”

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