Page 107 of Fierce Hearts

My mother guided me to sit on the edge of the bed, taking a silver-handled brush to my hair in long, soothing strokes. The familiar sensation brought me back to childhood, before I understood what our family truly was.

"You are strong, Sofia. Stronger than I ever was," she said softly. Her eyes met mine in the mirror. "I'm proud of you." Her hands stilled, resting on my shoulders. "But are you certain this is the right path?" Her gaze dropped to my still-flat stomach.

I placed my hand over my abdomen. "I know the risks—both of doing this and not doing this." I met her eyes again. "I've made my choice."

She nodded once, accepting my decision as she'd accepted so many difficult choices throughout her life. She handed me my handbag, sleek and black to match my outfit.

"I wish I could come with you."

"I know. But you'll be safer here. I don't want to imagine what Ernesto would do if you were there."

She nodded, but then she laughed slightly. "Honestly, I'd wonder what I'd do to him, given what he's put you through. But he'll pay for it soon enough."

The doorbell rang, and I headed to it, already knowing who it was after checking my camera feed. Meredith stood there, carrying a paper bag that smelled of pastries and a tray with three coffees.

"Thought you might need a bite and a decent decaf for the road," she said, setting them down before wrapping me in a tight hug. "You can do this. I'll stay here with your mom while you're gone."

"What about Gray?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be with him?"

"Leo's with him," she assured me. "Everything's under control."

I nodded, gathering my resolve. "Right, well, I should go. I'm driving myself."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Meredith's brow furrowed.

"Safer than putting a driver at risk. They'd kill one of Leo's men without a second thought, just to make a point." I embraced her once more, then my mother. "I'll be back soon."

The drive gave me time to compose myself, to settle into the role I needed to play. Grieving girlfriend. Defeated woman. Someone who had finally accepted her place in the family hierarchy.

What a fucking joke.

Now, I was driving out to Vintmere to meet in one of my uncle's restaurants. He'd not live beyond tonight. We'd all make sure of that.

I turned on my music, letting it drown out my unease and the knotted ball in my gut.

This was where it both ended and began. The end of a dictatorship, and the beginning of something greater.

* * *

I pulledup to the restaurant, an upscale place with private rooms perfect for business meetings and criminal conspiracies alike. A Ference man waited by the entrance, moving toward my car as I parked.

"Ms. Savoca," he said, opening my door with a practiced smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Allow me."

He took my handbag from my shoulder without asking, and I fought the urge to snatch it back. "I'll need to check this."

"Of course," I said, keeping my voice even.

Inside the restaurant's foyer, he turned to me. "I need to pat you down as well."

I clenched my teeth but nodded. "Fine."

His hands moved efficiently, professionally, but I still felt violated. I kept my head high, shoulders squared. I wouldn't show weakness—not to this man, not to anyone in that room.

"She's clean," he announced as we entered the private dining room.

Ernesto sat at the head of a long table, Juan Ference to his right. Both men stood when I entered, a mockery of respect.

"Sofia," Ernesto said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "I'm glad you've come to your senses after such a tragic loss."

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