Page 65 of His

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” I teased, brushing a kiss against her temple.

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling. “I could use some fuel after last night’s… activities.”

I chuckled, my hand sliding down her back to give her a playful squeeze. “Let’s get dressed and head downstairs. Alonzo should have breakfast ready by now.”

She nodded, and I reluctantly released her, watching as she slipped off the bed. I couldn’t help but admire the way she moved, graceful and confident, despite the blush that still lingered on her cheeks. She caught me staring and arched an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“See something you like?” she teased, reaching for one of my shirts hanging nearby.

“More than like,” I murmured, crossing the room to grab her by the waist, pulling her back against me. “But if we don’t get downstairs soon, I might just forget breakfast altogether.”

“Fine, fine,” she conceded, slipping into the oversized shirt, which hung loosely on her frame, the hem brushing just above her thighs. She buttoned it slowly, giving me a mischievous look.

“You’re torturing me,” I groaned, grabbing a pair of pants from the nearby chair, and pulling them on. “And I’m not sure if I love it or hate it.”

“Maybe a bit of both?” she suggested with a grin.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Come on, let’s go eat before I change my mind.”

She slipped into a pair of my sweatpants, the waistband far too big on her, and I found myself enjoying the sight of her wearing my clothes, looking perfectly at home.

Once we were dressed, I took her hand, and we headed downstairs to the kitchen. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon greeted us, and I felt my stomach rumble inanticipation. Alonzo was bustling around the kitchen, his back to us as he worked over the stove, humming softly to himself.

“Good morning, Alonzo,” I greeted, pulling Sofia closer as we entered the room.

He turned, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Good morning,signoreMassimo,signorinaSofia,” he replied cheerfully. “I hope you’re both hungry—I’ve prepared quite the feast for you.”

Sofia’s eyes lit up, and I could see the delight in her expression. “It smells amazing, Alonzo,” she said, smiling warmly.

“Grazie, signorina,” Alonzo replied with a wink. “Take a seat; it’ll be ready in just a moment.”

We sat down at the breakfast bar, the news playing softly on the television mounted on the wall. I poured Sofia a cup of coffee, my hand brushing against hers, enjoying the way she smiled at me over the rim of her cup.

But then, the news anchor’s voice caught my attention.

“And in breaking news this morning, we have an update on the tragic incident at last night’s charity ball,”the anchor announced, her tone serious. “Authorities have confirmed that the explosion was caused by a bomb, and suspicion is currently falling on the Russo mafia family.”

I froze, my hand stilling over Sofia’s. She glanced at me, her expression shifting to concern as I turned up the volume.

“The bomb caused significant damage to the venue,” the anchor continued, “and early reports indicate that several individuals were injured, though no fatalities have been confirmed at this time. Authorities are investigating the incident as an act oforganized crime, with particular focus on the Russo family, known for their connections to the Sicilian mafia syndicate.”

I felt a surge of anger rise within me, my jaw tightening as I listened. The Russos weren’t at fault for this.

Raffaele Moretti was.

“There’s more,” the anchor added, her expression grim. “In addition to the explosion, there are reports that sensitive data may have been stolen from the attendees of the event. Several sources have indicated that the Russo family might have orchestrated a sophisticated cyber-attack, accessing personal information, financial records, and other sensitive data. There are already reports of credit fraud and theft from bank accounts associated with several high-profile guests.”

Sofia’s eyes widened, and she turned to me, her expression a mix of shock and concern.

“The authorities are urging anyone who attended the event to check their accounts and report any suspicious activity immediately,” the anchor continued. “We will provide more updates as this story develops. For now, back to you, Ricardo.”

“I don’t understand it. Why frame them? What does he gain from pointing the finger in their direction?” I said, thinking out loud.

Sofia’s brow furrowed, her expression thoughtful. “If everyone thinks the Russos are responsible, it shifts the focus away from him. But why would he want that? What’s his endgame?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Raffaele’s smart. He knows the Russo family is already on thin ice with the authorities. If they take the blame, it distracts everyone from hisreal operations. But more than that… it could be a way to weaken the Russos. Start a war between them and other families, or even between them and the authorities.”

Sofia nodded slowly. “Divide and conquer,” she murmured. “If he gets the Russos to take the fall, they become the primary target, and he gets to move in on their territory while everyone’s busy dealing with them.”

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