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“She’s nothing, Enzo. A job. Don’t confuse obligation with—”
“Goodnight, Izzy.” I end the call before she can say anything else.
My eyes return to the screen, and I watch Sophia’s chest rise and fall. The rhythm undoes me in ways it shouldn’t.
She must be lonely. After losing my brother, the last family I had, that feeling is all too familiar to me.
Memories surface like a punch to the ribs. Dante’s laugh fills my mind, along with the day he was promoted to enforcer, and the day we moved back into our parents’ quarters. We’d been shuffled around after they died, sleeping in storage rooms and borrowed beds for years. Coming home felt like reclaiming a stolen piece of our past. Dante cracked open a bottle of our father’s whiskey that night. While we didn’t say much—didn’t need to—his promise still echoes in my mind. “Stick with me, Enz. We’ll rise. We’ll matter.”
He died for that promise.
Leaving after Dante’s death would’ve made his sacrifice pointless. My cause doesn’t need to be honorable, it just needs to be what he bled for. I gave myself to it the day we buried him. Haven’t failed to obey an order from my superiors. But Sophia is the first thing in years that feels like more than duty or blood.
I think about calling Gabi and begging for her life, but the thought withers fast.
I already know his answer. My interest in the woman will only prompt him to expedite handing her over to the Bratva without thinking twice.
I must take matters into my own hands.
He wants her traded like chips at a poker game, and I want her protected.
If those paths don’t cross, maybe it’s time to carve a new one.
Chapter 7
Sophia
Morning drags itself in like that one cat you keep telling yourself you don’t hate, but deep down, you’d punt it across the room if not for its claws. My head feels like an overused scratching post.
Sleep feels impossible down here. With every breath, the walls press closer. The flickering yellow bulb throws long shadows, creeping toward me like eerie fingers.
The cot beneath me groans every time I move, as if it’s in on the joke and treating my suffering like some kind of comedy. The blanket’s a mess, knotted around my legs and damp with sweat. I’ve been waiting for footsteps, for keys rattling, for the door to open. Preferably with him on the other side.
He said we should make this a daily thing. He said he’d come for me at the same time.
And, of course, he never did.
That little fact eats at me.
I took him at his word, so, like a fool, I waited. He must love my gullibility.
“Idiot,” I spit into the stale air. Why did I even let my heart twitch over the tiniest scrap of kindness from a man touted as a cold-blooded killer? Mafia guys don’t exactly hand out compassion. They sling bullets and deals. Trusting one is about as smart as hugging a crocodile just because it’s got a twinkle in its eye.
I clench my fists until my knuckles ache. Then I pace. Three steps…turn…three steps back. The concrete wall gets my boot. Once. Twice. The impact jolts up my leg.
He made a promise, then Houdini’d. That slice of betrayal aches more than anything he’s threatened. Maybe it’s only absurd because I actually bought it. Because, hell, there’s some pathetic sliver of me that wanted that walk.
I wanted to see the damn gardens with him again, to have his shadow right next to mine while walking side by side once more. To feel his heat. Touch his hand. Maybe even kiss.
Get a grip, Sophia.
I force my brain to ignore the images in my mind. Instead, I close my eyes and let my mother’s face drift behind my eyelids. That gentle, lost expression under those harsh psych ward lights. Does she understand why the visits stopped? Does she still look for me?
My throat tightens as I attempt to blink away the tears that start to form. When that doesn’t work, I press the heels of my hands against my eyelids until I see stars.
If she slips deeper into her world because she thinks I abandoned her…
I can’t handle that. My chest caves as if the guilt’s physical weight is literally crushing my ribs. While I’m trapped here in a basement playing games with a mobster, she needs me.