SOPHIA'S POV
I bit my nail, debating whether I should answer the text or just ignore it. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, itching to type out the angry words bubbling inside me. I wanted to cuss him out, to tell him off. This fucking weirdo—did he seriously have nothing better to do than ruin my life?
A sigh slipped past my lips. What was the point? He’d probably enjoy my frustration, feeding off it like the sick bastard he was.
It didn’t matter. Once those hidden cameras were removed, he wouldn’t be able to watch me anymore. That thought alone gave me a sense of control—a tiny, fragile shred of power against Matteo DeLuca.
But what if he installed them again?
The thought made my stomach churn. Of course, he would. A man like him, obsessed with control, wouldn’t just give up that easily.
No, Sophia. Keep it together. If he installs them again, I’ll just keep removing them. We’ll see who gets tired first.