Chapter 4 4

Sophia hardly slept that night. Every creak of the old apartment and whisper of the wind against the windows sent her thoughts spiraling. Enzo Carbone's voice echoed in her head-smooth, commanding, and laced with a quiet danger that unnerved her.

By the time the gray light of dawn crept through the curtains, her suitcase was packed and ready. It sat by the door, a small but weighty testament to the life she was leaving behind.

Mateo emerged from his room, looking as though he hadn't slept either. Dark circles framed his eyes, and his usual carefree attitude was nowhere to be found. He lingered near the kitchen, watching her in silence as she sipped her coffee, the tension between them a thick, unspoken thing.

"You don't have to do this," he said finally, his voice raw.

Sophia set her mug down with deliberate slowness. "You think I want to? Mateo, I didn't have a choice. It was this or..." Her voice caught, and she exhaled sharply. "This is what it takes to keep you safe."

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, pacing like a caged animal. "But it's not right. I should've been the one to-"

"Stop." Her voice was firm, cutting through his guilt-ridden rambling. "It's done. The only thing you can do now is stay out of trouble and keep your head down."

Mateo hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. "I swear, Sophia, I'll pay him back. Somehow. I'll make this right."

Her laugh was bitter, a sharp contrast to the solemnity of the moment. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't about money anymore. It's about control. Power. Enzo doesn't want your repayment-he wants to own us."

A knock at the door interrupted them, startling them both. Mateo froze, but Sophia stood quickly, brushing past him.

When she opened the door, she wasn't surprised to see Luca standing there, impeccably dressed and flanked by another of Enzo's men. His expression was unreadable, but his sharp gaze took in the scene behind her-the packed suitcase, Mateo's tense stance-with practiced ease.

"Morning," he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. "You ready?"

Sophia swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She reached for her suitcase, but Luca stepped forward, taking it from her hand.

"I've got it," he said, turning toward the sleek black car idling at the curb.

She glanced back at Mateo one last time, her heart heavy. "Take care of yourself," she said softly.

"Sophia-"

"Don't." Her voice cracked, and she shook her head. "Just don't."

Before he could say anything more, she stepped out of the apartment, the door closing behind her with a finality that made her chest ache.

The drive to the Carbone villa was silent, save for the rhythmic hum of the tires on the road. Sophia sat stiffly in the back seat, her hands clenched in her lap. Luca glanced at her in the rearview mirror occasionally, but he didn't speak.

When they arrived, the villa was as imposing as she remembered. Sunlight streamed through the cypress trees, casting dappled shadows across the stone driveway. The gates had already swung open to welcome her into a world she wanted no part of.

Luca opened the car door for her, gesturing for her to follow. He led her through the grand entrance, the marble floors gleaming underfoot, and down a hallway lined with ornate mirrors and paintings.

"Enzo's waiting in the study," Luca said, stopping outside a pair of heavy wooden doors.

Sophia hesitated, her heart pounding.

Luca gave her an almost sympathetic look. "Good luck," he said before opening the doors and stepping aside.

The study was just as grand as the rest of the villa, with shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls and a massive desk dominating the space. Enzo stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He turned as she entered, his sharp eyes locking onto hers.

"Punctual," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I like that."

Sophia stopped just inside the room, her chin lifting defiantly. "Let's get this over with."

Enzo's smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in his gaze. "You'll find, Sophia, that nothing with me is ever that simple."

He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit."

She hesitated but obeyed, lowering herself into the plush chair. Enzo sat across from her, his movements fluid and deliberate. He studied her in silence for a moment, as though she were a puzzle he intended to solve.

"Before we proceed," he said, his tone casual but firm, "there are rules you'll need to follow. If you want this to work-and if you want your brother to remain breathing-you'll adhere to them without question."

Sophia's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Fine. What are the rules?"

Enzo leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. "First, you'll stay here at the villa. Your role as my fiancée requires proximity. If you're not by my side, it raises questions."

"Fine," she said, her voice clipped.

"Second," he continued, "you'll attend all public appearances with me. Dinners, parties, meetings-whatever is required to sell the illusion."

Sophia clenched her fists in her lap but said nothing.

"And third," Enzo said, his gaze piercing, "you'll follow my lead. In public and in private. No deviations, no arguments. Understood?"

Her stomach churned at the weight of his words, but she forced herself to nod. "Understood."

Enzo sat back, satisfaction flickering across his face. "Good. Then let's begin."