Page 38 of Forced Arrangement

“We’ll engage in a contest. Outside. If I beat you, you’ll keep your mouth shut, follow orders, and accept my leadership. If you win, we’ll talk.”

Guiseppe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he doesn’t back down. “What kind of contest?”

“Shooting,” Sophia says, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “If you think you can handle a woman so easily, it should be no problem for you to beat me. After all, you’re all worried I can’t hold my own, that I’ll be dead weight. Let me show you otherwise. The men who were the best shots were always at the heart of my father’s inner circle. As someone who used to be his right-hand man, you should be able to prove that you earned the position fairly.”

The room is silent. I can see the calculation in Guiseppe’s eyes. He’s arrogant enough to believe he can win, but the challenge itself caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected her to push back, especially not like this.

After a moment, Guiseppe’s lips curl into a twisted smile. “Fine,” he says. “But don’t start crying when you lose, sweetheart.”

Sophia doesn’t react. “Lead the way,” she says, gesturing toward the door.

The sun hangs low as we step into the yard behind the estate, into a stretch of open space that Carlo had used for similar tests of loyalty. The tension follows us outside. It’s palpable as all the men file out to watch.

Guiseppe swaggers forward, his arrogance practically oozing off him as he grabs a handgun from one of the men. Sophia accepts her own without a word as I pass it to her, checking the weight in her hands as though she’s done this a hundred times. Maybe she has—there is still a lot about Sophia’s past she hasn’t shared with me.

“Put the targets on the wall,” Guiseppe barks, his voice full of swagger as the men set up the paper markers that indicate the silhouette of a person’s head and shoulders.

Sophia aims at the target, hefting the gun, shifting it in her hand, her focus never wavering. Guiseppe steps up beside her, still smirking. “Ladies first.”

Without missing a beat, Sophia fires. The shot drills right through the center of the head on the target. Before anyone can blink, she fires again, delivering another bullet to precisely the same spot. The silence that follows is deafening.

I see the flicker of doubt that crosses Guiseppe’s face, but he quickly masks it. “Not bad for a woman,” he mutters, lifting his gun.

He fires once, clipping the edge of the paper target. His face flushes as he readjusts, lining up for his second shot. This time, he hits the target near the center of the silhouette’s head.

“I believe the next phase was walking backward and shooting at the target,” Sophia says, and no sooner has she spoken, than she starts pacing backward. She delivers two more shots near the center of the target’s head, then glances over at Guiseppe.

“This is an excellent display,” he sneers. “How long did you have to practice to be able to put on this little show?”

Sophia laughs bitterly. “Oh, I assure you that this is not a party trick I have perfected. The life of a child of a great Cosa Nostra leader is rife with danger. I was raised to protect myself and I took the assignment very seriously. But you wouldn’t knowabout that, having come from a secondary family, and only having been in the wings of power your whole life."

I see the rage flare across his face before he manages to shove it away. He’s breathing hard as he starts walking backward, his nostrils pinched and his mouth a harsh line. I hear murmuring among the men at Sophia’s words.

Guiseppe’s first shot hits the target, but down by the shoulders. The next shot barely punctures the edge of the top of the head. He stares at the evidence of his poor marksmanship, something dangerous hiding in his dark eyes.

Sophia looks at Guiseppe with her arms crossed. She puts the safety back on and passes the handgun back to me. “Looks like you lost,” she says. “Seems that women can defend themselves, after all, if you let them have the training necessary to do so.”

She turns to look at the group of assembled men. “I dare anyone else to step up and show me that they can do better than me.”

There’s a heavy silence, punctuated only by the sound of Costa’s rough breathing.

She looks around at the gathering. “Come on now,” she baits them. “No one else wants to prove that women are only good for childbirth and blowjobs?”

The tension snaps back into the air, thicker than before. Guiseppe’s jaw clenches, but before he can say anything, I step forward. “A deal’s a deal, Costa. You lost. And now, you’ll respect her leadership or find your way out.”

Guiseppe glares at me. There is something dangerous behind his eyes. “This isn’t over, Angelo. You may have burned my crates and tried to shame me, but you haven’t won.”

The men shift uneasily. They all know about Costa’s smuggling operation—and they know I burned his shipment as retaliation for his attack on Luca. But Costa isn’t just angry about the money. This is personal now.

“I’ll tell you this once,” I say softly, stepping closer. “Talk about Sophia like that again, and I’ll make sure you leave here in pieces. Understood?”

Guiseppe’s sneer doesn’t disappear, but he gives a curt nod. He isn’t stupid. He knows the threat is real.

I turn back to the group. “Sophia Agostini is the leader of this family. And there’s one more thing.” I look at Sophia, a slight smile tugging at my lips. “We’re engaged. We are honoring the contract that my father and Carlo made years ago. They intended that we would bind our families and Sophia and I are honoring that demand.”

The shock ripples through the crowd like a wave. Guiseppe is the first to react, his voice filled with venom. “Engaged? This is all a power play, then. You’re using her to gain control of the Agostini family.”

“Say what you like,” I reply coolly. “But you’ll follow her, or you’ll deal with me.”

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