Chapter 4

*Slightly mature content*

Sofia POV

As the car pulled up in front of the Venditti mansion, I felt a wave of dread wash over me. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained, from the encounter with Antonio Cattaneo and Dante Russo.

Stepping out of the car, I adjusted my dress, took a deep breath, and walked towards the front door, my heart racing.

"Sofia," my father's voice boomed from the living room as soon as I stepped inside. "Where have you been?"

"I was meeting with Antonio Cattaneo, Father," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my heart.

"You are late," my father snapped. "You should have been back hours ago."

"I apologize, Father," I said, bowing my head in deference. "It was a long meeting."

"You will not embarrass this family, Sofia," my father said, his voice low and dangerous.

"You are to be married to the most powerful man in the Mafia," my father continued, his face contorted with anger. "And yet, you act like a child. A foolish, useless child."

I kept my head down, not daring to look him in the eye. I could feel the familiar sting of his words, the words that had defined my life for as long as I could remember.

"You will do as you are told," my father growled. "Or you will be dealt with accordingly."

With that, my father dismissed me, and I retreated to my room, my heart heavy with the weight of his words.

I sank down onto my bed, my thoughts swirling. I knew that I was in over my head, caught in the web of the Mafia, and with no way out.

Yet, there was something about Antonio Cattaneo that intrigued me, something that made me feel a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. Could I survive in this world, or would I be consumed by it?

As the day of the engagement party approached, my anxiety grew. I knew that I would have to put on a facade, pretend to be happy and in love with a man I barely knew.

I practiced my smile in the mirror, trying to make it seem genuine, but inside I felt nothing but a deep emptiness.

"You are not worthy of Antonio Cattaneo," my father's voice echoed in my mind. "You will never be worthy of anyone."

The day of the engagement party finally arrived, and I dressed in the most beautiful gown I could find. It was a stunning ivory creation, adorned with intricate lace and beading.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I tried to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be the dutiful daughter and the perfect bride-to-be. But deep down, I knew that I was fooling no one, least of all myself.

The party was a blur of faces, of names that I couldn't keep straight.

As I stood beside Antonio, smiling for the cameras, I felt like a fraud. I wanted to scream, to run away from it all.

Then, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. It was Dante Russo, his hand still bandaged from where Antonio had shot him.

Our eyes met, and I felt a chill run down my spine. In his gaze, I saw something that I hadn't seen in Antonio's eyes: sympathy.

As the night progressed, I tried to put Dante's presence out of my mind, focusing instead on my role as Antonio's fiancee. But I couldn't help but notice the way Antonio watched me, his eyes lingering on my every move.

"You look beautiful tonight, Sofia," he murmured, taking my hand in his. "I can't wait for the world to know that you are mine."

I shuddered inwardly, his words feeling like a threat rather than a promise.

With a forced smile, I excused myself, weaving my way through the crowd and slipping out onto the balcony.

I leaned against the railing, taking deep breaths of the cool night air. In the distance, I could hear the murmur of voices, the clink of glasses. The party was still in full swing, but for a moment, I felt as though I had escaped.

"Sofia."

I whirled around, my heart racing. Dante stood in the shadows, his eyes intense. "What do you want?" I whispered.

He stepped closer, his voice low.

"I know what you're going through," Dante said, his voice low. "I can help you."

My pulse quickened. "You know nothing about me," I snapped, my voice rising.

"I know that you're not happy," Dante countered. "I know that you're afraid. You don't have to be afraid, Sofia. Not with me."

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. Before I could respond, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Is there a problem here?" Antonio's voice rang out, his tone deadly calm.

I whirled around, my heart pounding in my chest. Antonio stood at the balcony door, his eyes boring into Dante's.

Dante held up his hands, a smile playing on his lips. "Just a friendly conversation," he said, his voice casual.

Antonio's gaze lingered on Dante, before shifting to me. "Sofia," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Come with me."

I followed Antonio wordlessly, my heart racing as we reentered the party.

The room seemed to part for him, guests quickly stepping aside as we passed. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on us, their stares like daggers piercing my skin.

"Don't speak to him again," Antonio whispered as we made our way across the room. "Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard, nodding in response. But inside, I couldn't help but wonder: What did Dante mean when he said he could help me?

ANTONIO POV

I watched Sofia move through the room, her grace and beauty captivating me. The gold of her dress seemed to match the emerald glint in her eyes, and her hair, oh her hair, it glimmered like strands of molten copper.

She was a sight to behold, a goddess amongst mortals. And she was going to be mine, a fact that thrilled and terrified me all at once.

As we made our way across the room, I could feel the gaze of Dante Russo on us, and my blood ran cold.

He was too close to Sofia, too interested in her. I had seen the way he had looked at her when we first met. There was something about his gaze that made my skin crawl.

I couldn't let him get to her. Not when she was so close to being mine.

Reaching out, I took Sofia's hand in mine, squeezing it tight. "Come with me," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

I didn't wait for her response, instead leading her out of the main room and into a smaller, private chamber.

The moment the door closed behind us, I turned to Sofia, my gaze intense. "What was he saying to you?" I demanded, my voice harsh.

Sofia's face paled. "Nothing," she said quickly. "He just wanted to talk."

I took a step closer to her, my hands gripping her arms tightly. "He wants you," I growled. "He wants what's mine."

Sofia gasped, and I saw the fear in her eyes. But beneath that fear, there was also something else. Desire.

"Non riuscirà a toccarti, Sofia." (He won't be able to touch you, Sofia.), I hissed in Italian, my voice low and dangerous. I pulled her into me, my hands traveling down her spine. "Sei mia, Sofia." (You're mine, Sofia.)

My lips found her neck, and I inhaled her scent, a heady mix of lavender and desire. She shuddered as my hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of her hips.

I saw the way she responded to my touch, the way her eyes darkened with desire. I wanted to push her limits, to make her lose control. But I knew I had to be careful. If I moved too quickly, she might run.

Pulling away from her slightly, I brought my lips to hers, brushing them against her skin in a feather-light caress.

Sofia's breath hitched, her heart pounding against my chest. "Antonio," she whispered, her voice full of need. I felt myself losing control, my desires taking over.

"Mi piaci così tanto, Sofia," (I like you so much, Sofia.) I murmured, my lips moving across her skin. I trailed a finger down the curve of her neck, my hands finding their way to her hips.

Her body arched into mine, and I knew I couldn't hold back any longer.

I pulled away, my breath heavy, my desire burning like a wildfire within me.

"Non così in fretta, Sofia." (Not so fast, Sofia.), I said, a cruel smile playing on my lips. I could see the confusion and desire mingling in her eyes.

"Pensavo ti fossi comandato di non parlare con Dante, Sofia?" (I thought I told you not to speak to Dante, Sofia?) My voice was low, dangerous.

"Non lo farò più, ti prometto," (I won't do it again, I promise.), she said, her voice soft, pleading. I saw her swallow hard, her eyes flashing with emotion.

"Menti." (You're lying.), I said, stepping closer to her. "Se vuoi essere mia, devi imparare a essere obbediente." (If you want to be mine, you need to learn to be obedient.)

As I stared into Sofia's eyes, my hand reached out and gently caressed her cheek. "Ti lascerò che riflette sulla tua disobbedienza, Sofia," (I will let you reflect on your disobedience, Sofia.) I whispered, my voice heavy with promise. "Ma non dubitare, prima o poi, ti verrà dato quello che meriti." (But make no mistake, you will get what you deserve, sooner or later.) I leaned in close, my lips brushing against her ear