Page 125 of Auctioned Innocence
“He handed me over like I was nothing,” Sofia whispers, and I see her free hand clench into a fist. “Twenty-two years of calling him ‘Uncle,’ of trusting him completely, and he—” Her voice breaks.
“I’ll kill him.” Marco says, his voice barely a whisper. Then louder, shaking. “I’ll fucking—I’ll tear him apart with my bare hands.”
“Not if we get to him first,” Sofia says, straightening her shoulders. “We have a plan.”
“Sofia…” Marco’s voice is strained, like he’s trying to process too much information at once. “Lorenzo is—was—family. He was at every birthday, every Christmas. How could he?—?”
“Because your father chose you as heir instead of him,” I interject, unable to listen to Sofia’s pain any longer. “Thirty-five years of service, and he felt passed over. Resentful. Viktor and Dominic offered him revenge and a piece of the new power structure.”
“Son of a bitch,” Marco breathes. Then, stronger, “What’s your plan?”
Sofia explains our strategy, her voice growing steadier as she focuses on tactics rather than emotions. But I can see the cost in the set of her shoulders, the way pain flashes across her features when she mentions Lorenzo’s name.
“It’s too dangerous,” Marco says finally, mirroring my earlier language, but there’s something different in his voice now. Not just protective concern, but the recognition that this is deeply personal for Sofia. That she has the right to see this through.
“I can handle it,” Sofia says firmly.
“Like you’ve been handling things?” Marco’s bark of a laugh crackles through the phone. “Taking unnecessary risks, putting yourself in danger, making Dante risk everything to?—”
“He didn’t risk everything for duty,” Sofia cuts in defensively. “He risked everything because he loves me. Because I love him.”
The silence on the line is so long I wonder if the call dropped. When Marco finally speaks, his voice is deadly quiet.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Marco—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“How long have you been fucking my sister?”
The crude words hit like a slap. Sofia’s entire body goes rigid beside me, her dark eyes flashing with fury.
“That’s not your business,” she says, her voice icy cold.
“Like hell it isn’t!” Marco’s voice explodes through the speaker, raw with betrayal and rage. “Sofia, you’re twenty-two years old! And Dante—Christ, Dante, Itrustedyou. I trusted you with the most important thing in my world and you?—”
“He does protect me!” Sofia cuts in, her voice rising to match her brother’s anger. “By treating me as an equal. By helping me become stronger instead of keeping me locked away like some fragile doll!”
My chest tightens as I watch her fight for us, for what we have. The fierce protectiveness in her voice, the way she stands her ground against her brother’s fury—it makes me love her even more.
“By taking advantage of your trauma! Your vulnerability!” Marco’s voice cracks with emotion. “Jesus, Sofia, you went through hell and he?—”
“He saved me!” Sofia screams, tears streaming down her face now. “Not just from the auction house, not just from Lorenzo’s men, but from myself! From thinking I was broken, from believing I was weak!”
The pain in her voice tears at my heart. I reach for her, but she shakes her head, needing to fight this battle herself.
“You don’t understand,” she continues, her voice breaking. “He sees me.Reallysees me. Not the little girl you and Dad want to protect, but the woman I am. The woman Ichoseto become.”
“You’re my—you’re my little sister,” Marco’s voice breaks completely. “You’re supposed to be…fuck, Sofia, you’re supposed to be safe. Not—not running around playing soldier with?—”
“I’m not playing anything!” Sofia’s voice is pure fire now. “I’m the woman who killed five men to save him. Who figured out Lorenzo’s betrayal. Who’s been fighting beside him as an equal partner, not some victim to be coddled!”
The pride and fear warring in my body threaten to overwhelm me. She’s magnificent—fierce and unbreakable and mine. But Marco’s words echo in my head:I trusted you.
The weight of that betrayed trust sits like lead in my stomach.
“Sofia,” Marco’s voice is quieter now, pleading. “He’s over a decade older than you. He’s seen things, done things?—”
“So have I!” she fires back. “I’ve killed people, Marco. I’ve been tortured, hunted, sold like livestock. I’m not some innocent child anymore!”
