Chapter 2 2

The faint echo of footsteps reached Sofia before she even opened her eyes the next morning. Her muscles ached from the restless sleep, her mind still racing from the night before. She had spent hours pacing the room, trying to make sense of the situation she had been thrown into.

The morning light spilled through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the ornate room. This was her childhood bedroom, untouched by time. The same four-poster bed with its carved wooden frame. The same bookshelves lined with novels and fairy tales she used to devour. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it felt like a gilded cage.

A sharp knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. "Sofia, we need to talk." Luca's voice was firm, brooking no argument.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as her bare feet touched the cold hardwood floor. Pulling on a robe, she walked to the door and opened it to find Luca standing there, dressed impeccably in a dark suit. His presence was as unnerving as ever, his sharp gaze scrutinizing her.

"What now?" she asked, her tone edged with irritation.

"We're meeting with the family's captains. They need to hear from you."

Sofia crossed her arms. "I haven't made a decision yet."

His jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "Deciding isn't a luxury you have anymore. The captains are restless. They need reassurance, or this family will implode."

"Let it," she shot back, stepping into the hallway. "It's not my responsibility."

Luca's hand shot out, his grip firm but not painful on her arm. "It is. Whether you like it or not, this is your blood. And if you walk away, the consequences will follow you wherever you go."

Pulling free of his grasp, she glared at him. "I'm not my father, Luca. I don't want this life."

"And yet, here you are," he replied, his tone softer but no less insistent. "You think I wanted this? You think I had a choice? None of us do, Sofia. We survive, or we die."

The weight of his words hung between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension thick and suffocating.

"Fine," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll meet them. But this doesn't mean I'm taking over."

He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. "Get dressed. You have twenty minutes."

The meeting was held in the estate's library, a grand room lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The captains were already seated when Sofia arrived, their expressions ranging from skepticism to outright hostility. Luca stood at the head of the long table, his presence commanding the room.

Sofia paused in the doorway, her palms slick with sweat. The weight of their gazes felt like a physical force, pressing down on her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to step inside.

Luca's voice cut through the silence. "Sofia DeLuca, Michael's daughter and the new head of this family."

Murmurs erupted around the table. One of the older captains, a burly man with graying hair, scoffed loudly. "This is a joke. She doesn't belong here."

Another captain, younger and leaner, leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "We need strength, not someone who's been hiding in the shadows for years."

Sofia's temper flared. "I didn't ask for this," she said, her voice steady despite the anger boiling beneath the surface. "But I'm here now, and I'm willing to listen. If any of you think you can do better, feel free to take my place-if you survive the fallout."

The room fell silent, the captains exchanging uneasy glances. Luca's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though he said nothing.

The older captain spoke again, his tone less combative. "The Corsettis are circling like vultures. If you want to lead, you'll need to deal with them first."

Sofia's stomach twisted. She knew of the Corsettis-her father's long-standing rivals-but she had no idea how to handle them. Still, she refused to show weakness. "Then tell me what I need to know."

Over the next hour, the captains laid out the situation in stark detail. The Corsettis were making moves on DeLuca territory, exploiting the power vacuum left by Michael's death. Their demands were simple: surrender key territories or face an all-out war.

Luca's voice was calm but firm as he spoke. "Negotiation is not an option. If we give them an inch, they'll take everything."

Sofia nodded, though her mind was racing. She had no experience with this world, no idea how to navigate its treacherous waters. But if she backed down now, the DeLuca family would crumble-and she would be seen as a coward.

"I'll need time to plan," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "But I won't let them take what's ours."

The captains exchanged glances, their skepticism softening into something resembling respect.

After the meeting, Luca followed her into the hallway, his expression unreadable. "You handled that better than I expected."

"I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult," she replied, exhaustion creeping into her voice.

"It's a compliment," he said, his tone unusually gentle. "But you've just declared war on the Corsettis. You need to be ready for what comes next."

She stopped walking, turning to face him. "And what comes next?"

His dark eyes met hers, filled with a mix of warning and something she couldn't quite place. "Blood. Betrayal. And choices you'll wish you never had to make."

The weight of his words settled heavily on her chest. She had stepped into the shadows of her father's world, and there was no turning back.