Page 5 of Bound By Honor

Sofia's hands clench into fists, her knuckles white as marble, almost cracking under the pressure. "Evil is right. You're kidnapping me!"

"Saving you," I reply coldly. But beneath my icy exterior, something else flickers. My heart races at the sight of Sofia's defiant spirit—unwanted and dangerous, but undeniably there.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion and her gaze burns holes through my facade.

Sofia turns to face me, her expression a blend of fury and fear. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, betraying her rising emotions. "I don't need your protection. I know how to protect myself and have an army of men who guard me. My father didn’t raise a fool, Rocco. You want to control me to take over his territory. How do I know you won’t take out the three of us and grab it for yourself?”

"Your father’s men weren’t there to protect him. What makes you think they’re not in league with his killer?" I have a job to do, but every glance betrays an undeniable attraction that could undermine my work. Beads of sweat form on my forehead as the heat between us intensifies.

“Go to hell, Leone.” Sofia turns stubbornly toward the window. The passing lights cast fleeting shadows over her features. Her jaw is set and her eyes are cold, but I can still feel the heat of her anger radiating off her.

“I’m in no hurry to see hell. Not yet.” I meet her intense stare with my own. I can see the unspoken questions and accusations she wants to hurl at me. But at this moment, all that matters is our survival.

The car careens onto a narrow, isolated road, the dense trees looming over us like an ominous tunnel. Turning back, I see the faint glow of headlights in the distance, gaining on us with predatory speed. "We've got company," I mutter, my grip tightening on the door handle as my driver's foot presses harder against the accelerator.

"Who is that? Is it Antonio?” Sofia's shouts.

“I don’t know. Those men must be enemies of your father. He had many,” I reply through gritted teeth, my tone grim with disdain. "And enemies of ours."

Sofia's resistance fades as the threat draws near. “Ours?” she echoes quietly, realizing the danger we face.

"Yes," I confirm, as the car roars forward, cutting through the night as we race toward my estate—the only place close enough to offer us safety. Suddenly, an explosion erupts behind us, shattering the silence and sending shockwaves through the air.

"Rocco! Where are Franco and Marco?” Sofia's screams pierce through my thoughts, and time seems to slow down. My name on her lips is more of an accusation than a plea for help.

“They’re in front. Hold on!” I shout over the chaos, wrapping one arm around her waist as our car swerves wildly, trying to avoid debris raining all around us.

“Is this your idea of protecting me?” Sofia shouts, ducking down with her hands over her head.

“Ask me that when I get you home alive,” I grunt, trying hard to shield us from fire instead of focusing on her frightened eyes. I can’t let her crawl under my skin. That’s just the kind of thing that will get me killed.

Suddenly, a projectile strikes the window, a direct shot to Sofia’s head. This is an armored car, and the glass is shatterproof, but if it weren’t, that bullet would have surely killed her. Instinct makes me pull her toward me and curl her into my arms, using my body to shield her. I don’t know what’scome over me, but the thought of losing her is too painful to consider. Whoever is behind this has crossed a line that should never have been breached. The stakes have just gone up—protecting Sofia isn't just about honor anymore. It’s personal.

5

ROCCO

Iwake to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting up the stairs, seeping under my bedroom door. My men are stationed outside, and the housekeeper doesn’t arrive until later this afternoon, so it can be only one person. My feet hit the cold wood floors as I pad toward the source, and there’s a strange comfort in knowing I’m not alone in this house. Yet, the situation is anything but typical.

Sofia stands at the stove, her back to me, with an apron tied just above her round, voluptuous ass. The clink of the spatula she maneuvers offers a mundane soundtrack to the surreal scene. I lean against the doorway, arms folded, watching her.

"Good morning," Sofia mutters without turning.

Our last words were harsh, and at the end of her justified rant, she told me she’d never speak to me again. That was the day before yesterday. And although this is a pleasant surprise, I’m also slightly frightened by the sudden change.

“Would you like some eggs? I like mine scrambled, but I can make yours sunny-side up."

I nod, pulling out a chair at the small breakfast table. "Scrambled is fine," I reply. My eyes scan over Sofia—hermovements fluid and assured. Her long dark hair is pinned into a messy bun, highlighting her slender neck. The palm of my hand itches as a feverish desire to wrap my fingers around her pale throat overcomes me. I want to know what it feels like to look in those big brown eyes and feel her pulse quicken with lust. When she suddenly looks over her shoulder, I shake my head, trying hard to rid my dirty mind of those inappropriate thoughts.

Sofia carefully plates the food, setting down a steaming mound of eggs next to a crisp heap of bacon on plates she must've found in the cabinets. She joins me at the table, her plate slightly less full than mine. We initially eat in uneasy silence, the only sound being our cutlery against the plates and the occasional sip from our mugs of freshly brewed coffee that she also managed to prepare.

"You didn't have to make breakfast," I say eventually, figuring it's better to speak than drown in this quiet void.

Sofia glances at me, a quick flicker of hope crossing her features before she masks it with a polite smile. "Don’t read too much into this. I just wanted to thank you for not locking me in the room," she says quietly before biting off a piece of bacon.

"I know you’re angry, but we need to talk more about why you’re here." I stop to savor the taste of her eggs—they might be the best I’ve ever had.

Sofia’s fork pauses midair, then she sets it down gently before answering. "I was hoping we could talk about that. Maybe come to some sort of agreement."

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