Page 84 of Creed

Papáchuckles. Sophie sneaks a look at him, still crushed in my mom’s hug, and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Sophie.”

The man whom people equally respect and fear, the man who has reigned and grown our family’s power and wealth, who has made hard choices of whether someone is to live or die, who has cut down our enemies with his own hands… That man nearly crumbles before our eyes. The softness he only ever shows toMammahe bestows on Sophie.

Cupping her cheek, he says, his voice thick with emotion, “I know who you are,mia dolce ragazza.” My sweet girl. “Welcome.”

Massimo steps forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally, Sophie.”

Mammarelinquishes her hold on my girl, and Sophie faces my brothers. Slight wariness appears as she looks Massimo over. He’s a serious-looking dude, not to mention his size and the power that rolls off him.

“It’s nice to meet you finally, too.” Her voice is soft but steady. “Also, thank you for calling in a favor and having Bane pick me up.”

Massimo smiles and nods. Vito steps closer and holds out his large, scarred hand, and Sophie doesn’t hesitate to take it. “Glad you made it safe and sound, Triple S.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Triple S?”

“Yeah, for sweet, sexy—” Vito grunts in pain when I punch him. “Okay, sinfully… Ow, you motherfucker.” He tries to glare at me but laughs. “Stunning.”

“Let me guess, the third ‘S’ is for Sophie, yeah?” she asks, and Vito nods, laughing again at my possessiveness. “How about Spanish, then?”

Vito tilts his head, eyeing her. “Sweet Spanish Sophie… I can live with that. Welcome to the family, Triple S.” He grabs both of us and clamps us to his chest.

When Sophie bestows a content, happy smile on me, the last ravaged piece of my heart and soul is stitched back into place.

Chapter 26

Sophie

To say meeting theSantoro family is overwhelming is a gross understatement.

But with the bantering and poking fun at each other around the dinner table, it does feel like the Brady Bunch. But instead of being a blended middle-class American family, it’s an upper-class Italian mafia family.

They welcome non-blood members—not just me, but Gabriele and another man named Raf—into the fold and show them the same love. Gabrielle, Raf, and Andro hug and kiss Gina and speak at length with Tommaso. Gina clips their ears as much as she does her sons, and Tommaso is the same, not discriminating who’s on the receiving end of his scowls. Scowls that hide a little smile as he talks with his brother, Marco.

This isnotwhat I envisioned—not that I ever envisioned sitting around the dinner table with the upper echelons of a mafia family. But it’s blowing my mind.

I know, though, that this doesn’t discount their criminal activity and how they make their money… If I think about that too long, panic rises inside me, which Creed somehow detects and places a hand on my thigh or leans over and kisses my temple. But I witness these are caring people who love deeply and have a moral code based on small snippets of conversations I catch around the table.

When Creed takes it upon himself to bring up the project I’m working on for the business proposal of my not-for-profit idea, my cheeks burn, but he encourages me to share it. They all listen intently and ask questions. Like Zac, Ollie, and Antonio had asked when I told them about my idea, Andro asks about the comprehensiveness and the need to go so deep.

“Wouldn’t a place to get them back on their feet be enough? Those other pieces are so… complex and not one sector’s area of control.”

I shake my head, sipping the delicious red wine. “The poverty cycle continues to be perpetuated unless it’s broken. Those opportunities come from having housing, food, and income stability. Having services there or co-located nearby rather than the vulnerable,” I use air quotes, “I hate that word, but I’ll use it for it now—women having to find time, transportation, and other supports to access their medical and social needs, especially when that mom and children are at the height of their vulnerability, is critical.”

Tommaso rests his elbows on the table, regarding me. He coughs; it sounds phlegmy and painful, and I feel Creed stiffen slightly. Placing my hand on his muscular thigh to soothe him, he rests his tattooed hand over mine and squeezes it. “Have you seen this business proposal, Creed?”

I clear my throat. “It’s not a real—”

“Yes, itisa real business proposal, angel.” Creed doesn’t let me finish my objections. “It may have been developed for a class, but it’s still a business proposal in every sense.”

“One that sounds exceptionally thought-out,” Massimo adds; his deep brown eyes are as intense as the rest of him.

“And to answer your question,Papá, I have seen the proposal.”

Tommaso sits back in his chair. “The Glade building may be a good fit. You also purchased the land nearby, although you’d sacrifice the profits if you didn’t build for tenants as you were considering.”

“That is a great potential site,” Creed agrees.

Tommaso turns to me. “You two should do a site visit and see what inspiration and visioning comes from that, Sophie.”

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