Page 23 of Forced Arrangement

I nod, though the idea of rest feels impossible with the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I turn to look out at the city, the skyline shimmering in the early morning light. It’s beautiful, but it feels like a mirage—something out of reach, something I can’t hold on to.

Behind me, I feel Angelo’s presence, warm and steady, a contrast to the icy fear that has settled in my chest.

“Sophia,” he says, his voice low and reassuring. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

His words, simple as they were, offer a small measure of comfort to me. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Angelo reaches out, his hand brushing against mine, the touch sending that familiar shiver down my spine. It’s a reminder of everything that has happened between us and everything that is still to come.

“Rest,” he repeats, his voice a gentle command.

I nod again, my throat tight with emotions I can’t name. As I turn to head toward the bedroom, I feel his gaze linger on me, a weight that is both comforting and unsettling.

This is only the beginning. Whatever comes next, I know it will be a test of everything—my strength, my resolve, and my heart.

And I’m not sure I’m ready for any of it.

Chapter Eight

Angelo

The penthouse is quiet, the only sound the soft click of the door as Sophia disappears into her bedroom. I watch her go, my eyes lingering on the spot where she just stood, the echo of her presence still vibrating in the air.

She’s like a storm, that woman—fierce, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. No matter how hard I try to keep my focus on the task at hand, she has a way of pulling me in, dragging me into the eye of the hurricane she carries with her.

And I’m being dragged willingly, aren’t I?

The thought makes me scowl as I turn away from the bedroom door. It’s dangerous, this pull I feel toward her. Dangerous for me, dangerous for her, and dangerous for the plan. But no matter how many times I remind myself of that, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t control.

It doesn't help that I can still taste her on my tongue, I can still feel her skin on mine, the hard pull of her fingers in myhair. I can still see her eyes shrouded in desire. Fuck, I could still hear her screaming my name as she came for the second time, quivering and holding onto me for dear life.

I was an idiot to think once with her would be enough. It was the classic case of an addict saying, “just one more time, and then I’ll quit”.

I walk to the massive windows that line the far wall of the living room, the city sprawling out beneath me in a glittering web of lights and shadows. New York is a city of contrasts, a place where power and vulnerability coexist in a precarious balance. It’s a place that has given me everything, and taken away just as much.

And now, I’m bringing Sophia into it, into this world of power plays and hidden dangers. She is strong—stronger than she knows—but this world has a way of breaking even the toughest of us. It broke me once, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to keep her from the same fate.

But I will try. For her, I will try.

A low buzz from my phone snaps me out of my thoughts. I pull it from my pocket, glancing at the screen. Franco’s name flashes across it, a reminder that there is still work to be done, still threats lurking in the shadows.

“Franco,” I greet him, keeping my voice low. “We’re back.”

“Good,” he replies, his tone clipped. “Is she settled?”

“She’s okay,” I say, glancing back at the closed door. “Trying to get some rest.”

“Rest might be hard to come by for any of us for a while,” Franco says, his voice tight. “We’ve got movement on our end. Costa’s men have been spotted in the city. They’re looking for her.”

A surge of anger rises in me, cold and sharp. Giuseppe Costa has been a thorn in my side for years, always lurking in thebackground, waiting for his moment to strike. And now, with Sophia back in the picture, he clearly saw an opportunity.

“He’s not getting anywhere near her,” I say, my voice hard as steel. “We’ll deal with him.”

Franco is silent for a moment, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his mind. “And what about Sophia? Does she know about what the betrothal means?”

The question hangs in the air between us, a weight I’m not ready to lift. “No,” I admit, my jaw tightening. “Not yet.”

“Angelo,” Franco’s voice is heavy with a note of warning. “You can’t keep this from her forever. She’s going to find out.”

“I know,” I reply, turning back to the window, the city below reflecting my inner turmoil. “But telling her now won’t help. She’s already on edge, already suspicious. If I drop this on her, she’ll run.”

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