Page 40 of Forced Arrangement

I close my eyes, letting his words sink in. There’s a part of me that wants to fight him on this, to push him away. But the truth is, I’m exhausted. I’ve been carrying this burden—this fear—for too long. And for the first time in a long time, someone is offering to share it with me.

When I open my eyes again, he’s still watching me, his gaze intense but gentle. And in that moment, I make a decision.

I step forward, closing the space between us. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

The words come out before I can stop them, and I see the flash of surprise in his eyes. But it is quickly replaced by something else—something darker, more primal.

His hands move to my waist, pulling me closer, his body heat seeping into mine. “You won’t be,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.

I reach up, my fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to me. His lips meet mine in a kiss that isn’t gentle, isn’t soft. It’s fierce, demanding, filled with all the things we haven’t said, the things we can’t say.

His hands are everywhere, sliding under my shirt, gripping my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. His kiss is bruising, and I give as good as I get, my fingers clawing at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

“Angelo,” I breathe, his name a plea on my lips as his mouth moves to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that makes my knees weak.

He doesn’t say anything, just presses me harder against the wall, his hands slipping under my waistband, tugging at the fabric until it slides down my legs.

I tug at his belt, and he curses under his breath, his hands working in tandem with mine until his pants hit the floor. He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping as he pushes inside me in one swift motion.

There’s no gentleness between us, no hesitation. We move together with a raw, desperate intensity, each thrust pulling us deeper into the storm of our emotions.

I moan into his mouth, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he drives me closer and closer to the edge. His lips are on my neck, my shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

“Fuck, Sophia,” he groans, his voice thick with need as he buries himself deeper inside me.

I cling to him, my body trembling as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. And when it finally crashes over me, I shatter in his arms, my head falling back as I cry out his name.

Angelo follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he finds his release, his arms tightening around me as though he can’t bear to let me go.

For a long moment, we stay like that, our bodies pressed together, our breath mingling in the quiet aftermath of the storm. And for the first time since this whole nightmare began, I feel something other than fear.

I feel…safe.

Later, I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the day replay in my mind. The contest with Guiseppe, the engagement announcement, and the way Angelo’s touch burned away the tension in my chest.

But the calm is temporary. I know that. Guiseppe isn’t done, and neither are the men who still doubt me. This victory is onlythe first of many battles I’ll have to fight to keep control of the Agostini family.

But I wasn’t the same woman who’d arrived in New York, terrified and unsure of her place. I had proven myself today. And I would prove myself again.

I turn to look at Angelo, his face relaxed in sleep beside me. His presence, once something I’d resented, has become something else. Something I’m not sure I want to define yet. But I know one thing—he’s right. I don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

And maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing.

***

I pace the room, glancing out at the city that stretches out far below the penthouse. It should feel so foreign—New York, this world, the role I’m now playing. But it doesn’t. It scares me that this all feels so natural to me.

The engagement ring on my finger feels heavier than it should, the metal cool and unfamiliar against my skin. Fake engagement, real consequences. Angelo had announced it like it was no big deal, but the ripple effect was already happening.

I could feel the shift among the men, the way they watched me more closely. I was sure that some of them were calculating, waiting to see if I could hold my ground. Others, like Costa, were biding their time, waiting for me to slip up.

Vertigo washes over me, and I put a hand against the window frame to steady myself. The spells of discomfort have been getting worse over the past couple of days.

I swallow heavily, tasting bile in my throat. I whirl abruptly, running to the bathroom to slump over the toilet, violently sick.

Maybe I’m getting the flu. I lean back against the tub, feeling shaky and spent. This is all I need. Being sick when I’m in the throes of taking over my father’s empire is not ideal.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been crumpled on the bathroom floor when I heard Justine’s voice echoing down the hall. I straighten up with effort forcing myself to breathe deeply. My stomach still felt questionable and my head didn’t feel like it was attached to my shoulders.

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