Page 52 of Creed

Fuck.

“Papá, I need to go. I’ll call you later.”

I hang up without taking my eyes off the angel of my dreams, the woman who holds my heart and is my soulmate.

And know I’m about to lose her.

Chapter 16

Sophie

“Open the elevator, Creed.”

How my voice is steady and strong, I’ll never know. Not when my body shakes like a newborn colt, freshly brought into this world, and the first thing it sees is a predator.

‘Ndrangheta.

Even if someone doesn’t know what that term meant, ‘Don’is pretty damn universal.

Oh my god, I’ve been such an idiot. I’ve been cozying up with someone involved in the criminal underworld. And not just anyone. The person calling is Creed’sfather.

Creed is the son of a Don.

He's mafia.

Part of the world that my own father is embroiled in, and that my mom, grandparents, and Antonio worked so hard for me not to have any contact with.

And here I am, sleeping with a goddamn made man, through no one’s fault but my own. I sat in his office with him every night, doing homework while heworked, probably coordinating the white powder that my father kills and does horrible things for. Maybe even casually texting an order to have someone killed.

I had gone to school in the day, happily coming back here, almost skipping like Polly-fucking-Anna, to sleep with the man who kissed me in the morning before he went out to do criminal things.

Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick.

The wealth.

The privileged upbringing.

The way the bouncer at the pub that first night had backed off on IDing me when he realized Creed was with me. Creed is known in this city. The bouncer hadn’t seemed afraid of him, but maybe he’s one of Creed’s men.

I’m such anidiot.I could’ve asked anyone from around here if the last name Santoro meant anything.

I’m new to the city, to the States, so I had no idea. I want to bang my head against the wall.

“Open the elevator, Creed,” I demand again as he stares at me like he’s trying to see inside my head—into my soul—and reach me.

“Let’s talk, angel.”

“Don’t call me that!” I shout, tears filling my eyes, and I blink them back, refusing to cry.

“It’s not how you think—”

“Oh really? It’s the mafia,” I spit. “Your dad is the goddamn Don, Creed. How is thisnothow I think?”

“That’s true. But I have nothing to do with that side of the… family business.”

I laugh. It sounds slightly hysterical and unhinged. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

The tears press forth again, and I swipe at them.

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