“Why were you so cold earlier?” he demanded. “Francesca works under me. Her safety falls under my responsibility. Her living situation is temporary until everything’s finalized. You understand why I’d help her, don’t you?”
A quiet, bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
“Since when do you go this far for your staff?” I asked. “At the last family gathering, you left early, said you weren’t feeling well. I didn’t question it. Now you’re reorganizing your life for her?”
Soft sobbing filtered through the line.
Francesca spoke next, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere.
“Lorenzo… maybe I should leave. I don’t want to come between you and Sofia.”
His reply was immediate, edged with authority.
“That’s not happening. Stay where you are.”
The way he said it—firm, protective—hit harder than I expected. He hadn’t spoken to me like that in years.
I drew in a slow breath, forcing my emotions back into their cage.
“You’re right,” I said evenly. “That was on me. I shouldn’t have asked. I’ve already left. Don’t bother coming back for me.”
I ended the call before he could respond.
And this time, I didn’t turn around.
Sofia’s POV
The sharp edge in Lorenzo’s voice vanished the instant my reply landed—measured, distant, unmistakably closed. Whatever argument he’d been lining up died before it could reach his tongue. I didn’t wait for him to regroup or push back.
I ended the call and sank deeper into the leather seat, turning my face toward the window as the car glided through the private forest road leading to the family estate. The headlights carved narrow paths through rows of towering trees, shadows stretching and folding over one another like dark wings. The road felt endless, and the pressure in my chest matched it step for step.
The moment I stepped out of the car, unease crept into my bones. The estate grounds were unnaturally still. No guards pacing. No distant engines. Just the moon suspended above the treeline, casting a pale, almost accusing light over the immaculate lawns. It felt less like arriving home and more like stepping into a place that remembered everything I wanted to forget.
My phone vibrated, breaking the quiet.
I pulled it from my pocket and saw the notification count climbing rapidly. Lorenzo’s executive group—the inner circle that ran his syndicate’s legitimate fronts—was active. Too active.
I hesitated, then opened it.