Page 14 of Forced Arrangement

“Pretty much,” I say, wincing at how absurd it sounds when she puts it like that.

“And now, Angelo—this hot, brooding guy with the world’s most ridiculous cheekbones—has shown up and told you that your father is dead, and you have to go back to New York to…what? Take over the family business?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t want anything to do with the family business. But there’s a power struggle happening back home, and because of who I am, I’m a target. If I don’t go back, if I don’t deal with this, then the people I care about could get caught in the crossfire.”

Justine stares at me for a long moment. Then she sighs and runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head in disbelief. “Sophia Agostini, huh? You know, I always knew there wassomething you weren’t telling me. I just didn’t expect it to be…this.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I thought I was protecting you.”

Her eyes soften, and she leans forward, resting her hand on mine. “I get that. But you have to understand how unfair it was to keep me in the dark like that. We’ve been through so much together, and it hurts to know you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

“I do trust you,” I insist, my voice thick with emotion. “But this…this is different. This is dangerous.”

Justine’s gaze doesn’t waver, and when she speaks, her voice is firm. “I’m your best friend, Sarah, sorry…Sophia. This is weird.”

I wince again and she shakes her head.

“I can handle the truth, no matter how messy or dangerous it is. What I can’t handle is being treated like some delicate flower that needs to be protected from the big, bad world.”

I nod, the guilt pressing down on me even harder. “You’re right. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

She smiles, a small, genuine smile that makes my heart ache. “Apology accepted. Now, let’s figure this out together, okay? I’m not letting you face this alone.”

“Justine, you don’t have to do this,” I say, though I know it is pointless to argue. “This isn’t your fight.”

She rolls her eyes, her snarky humor slipping back into place. “Oh, please. You think I’m going to let you run off to New York with Mr. Mafia Hottie and not be there to see the drama unfold? I’d never forgive myself.”

“Justine…” I start, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

“Look, I know you’re trying to protect me, but newsflash: I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions. And right now, I’m deciding that I’m coming with you. End of discussion.”

I sigh, knowing there is no winning this argument. Justine is as stubborn as they come, and once she makes up her mind, there is no changing it.

“Fine,” I say, giving in. “But I’ll have to go alone first. I need to make sure it’s safe before you get involved.”

She narrows her eyes, clearly not thrilled with the idea, but eventually nods. “Okay, but you’d better keep me updated. If I don’t hear from you regularly, I’m getting on the next plane to New York and hunting you down.”

“I will,” I promise, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety at her determination. “Thank you, Justine. For everything.”

She grins. “You’re welcome. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily. You owe me big time for this.”

“I’ll add it to the tab,” I joke, the tension in the room finally easing.

“So,” Justine says after a moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “how does it feel to be a mafia princess?”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Don’t call me that.”

She laughs, a bright, infectious sound that makes me smile despite everything. “Sorry, love. But you’ve got to admit, it’s kind of badass.”

I peek at her through my fingers, my own smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yep,” she says, popping the “p” with a grin. “But you love me for it.”

I did love her for it. Justine had a way of making even the heaviest situations feel lighter, of bringing humor and warmth into a world that often felt cold and unforgiving. She was the sister I’d never had, and I couldn’t imagine going through this without her.

“Promise me something,” I say, my voice more serious now. “Promise me you’ll be careful. If things get too dangerous, I need to know you’ll get out.”

She meets my gaze, her expression softening. “I promise, Sarah…Sophia. But the same goes for you. Don’t try to be a hero, okay? If things get too crazy, you get out. We’ll figure it out together.”

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