Chapter 5 Hidden Truths

-----

Sophia stood in front of the whiteboard in the studio's back office, tapping the end of her marker against her lips. Words and numbers were scrawled across the surface: potential donors, grant deadlines, estimated costs. Despite the flurry of ideas from the previous night's meeting, the numbers weren't adding up.

"We're still short," Sophia muttered, running a hand through her curls.

"You'll figure it out," Mia said, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand. "You always do."

Sophia gave her friend a weak smile. "This time feels different, Mia. I'm not just fighting for the studio-I'm fighting against Dominic Moretti. The guy's a shark."

Mia tilted her head. "A shark, maybe, but not heartless. Did you see the way he looked at that mural yesterday? For a second, I thought he might actually have a soul."

Sophia snorted. "Don't let one fleeting moment fool you. He's still the man who could demolish this place with a snap of his fingers."

"Maybe," Mia said, sipping her coffee. "Or maybe he's more complicated than he seems."

Sophia opened her mouth to respond but stopped short when her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

Unknown: Lunch. Today. Noon. My driver will pick you up. – DM

Sophia stared at the message, her stomach tightening. "You have got to be kidding me."

"What is it?" Mia asked.

"It's him," Sophia said, holding up the phone. "Dominic wants to meet for lunch."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Are you going?"

Sophia hesitated. Every instinct told her to refuse, but curiosity-and a lingering hope that she might sway him-overrode her doubts.

"I don't think I have a choice," Sophia said, grabbing her coat.

---

The sleek black car pulled up outside a quiet café on the Upper West Side. Sophia stepped out, feeling distinctly out of place among the polished patrons and minimalist décor.

Dominic was already seated at a corner table, his suit impeccably tailored, his expression unreadable. He stood as she approached, gesturing for her to sit.

"Miss Hart," he said smoothly. "Thank you for coming."

"Did I have a choice?" she replied, folding her arms as she took a seat.

A faint smile tugged at Dominic's lips. "You always have a choice. But I appreciate your time nonetheless."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Let's skip the pleasantries, Mr. Moretti. Why am I here?"

Dominic leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You're here because I'm curious about you, Miss Hart. Most people in your position would have walked away by now. Yet you're still fighting. Why?"

"Because this place matters," Sophia said, her voice firm. "It's not just a building. It's a home for people who don't have one. A lifeline for kids who need guidance. A sanctuary for artists trying to find their voice."

Dominic's gaze didn't waver. "And you think you can save it?"

"I know I can," she said. "What I don't know is why you care. If you're so convinced I'm going to fail, why not just wait me out?"

For a moment, Dominic didn't respond. He swirled his glass of water, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe I'm testing you," he said finally.

"Testing me?" Sophia echoed, her tone sharp. "What gives you the right?"

Dominic's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. "Because I've seen too many people like you, Miss Hart. Dreamers who think passion is enough to change the world. They start strong, but they crumble the moment things get tough."

Sophia bristled. "You don't know me."

"No," Dominic admitted. "But I'm starting to."

The tension between them crackled like a live wire. Sophia clenched her fists beneath the table, resisting the urge to walk out.

"Is that all this is to you? A game?" she asked.

Dominic leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "No. This is business. But that doesn't mean I can't be... intrigued."

Sophia's heart thudded in her chest, though she refused to show it. "Well, I don't have time for your games. Some of us are actually trying to make a difference."

Dominic's jaw tightened, but he didn't reply. Instead, he slid a business card across the table.

"If you're serious about saving your studio, call this number. It's a contact of mine who specializes in securing sponsorships. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

Sophia stared at the card, her instincts screaming that it came with strings attached. "Why would you help me?"

Dominic shrugged. "Call it... curiosity."

Sophia hesitated, then snatched the card. "I don't need your help," she said, standing. "But I'll take the number. Thanks."

As she walked out of the café, her pulse raced. Dominic Moretti was a man of contradictions, and she couldn't decide if his offer was genuine or part of some larger strategy.

---

Later that evening, Dominic sat in his penthouse, staring out at the city skyline. He should have felt victorious-he'd planted a seed of doubt in Sophia's mind, and that was a win in his book.

But instead, he felt unsettled. Her passion, her fire-it was unlike anything he'd encountered in years.

Elena's words echoed in his mind: Maybe it's worth looking closer. Not just at the studio, but at yourself.

Dominic poured himself a glass of scotch and leaned against the window. For the first time in years, he wasn't sure what he wanted.

---

Sophia, meanwhile, was back in the studio, surrounded by half-finished canvases and stacks of supplies. She stared at Dominic's business card, turning it over in her hands.

"Don't overthink it," Mia said, appearing beside her.

"Overthink what?"

"Using the number," Mia said. "If it helps the studio, does it really matter where it came from?"

Sophia sighed. "It feels like a trap."

"Maybe it is," Mia said. "But you're smart enough to avoid it. And if it's not a trap, it could be exactly what we need."

After a long pause, Sophia tucked the card into her pocket. "I'll think about it."

As the night wore on, Sophia worked late into the evening, sketching out plans and refining ideas. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts kept drifting back to Dominic.

He was a puzzle-a maddening, complicated puzzle-and she wasn't sure she wanted to solve it.

But deep down, she knew she didn't have a choice.

Dominic Moretti was a part of this fight now, whether she liked it or not.

And somehow, she had a feeling he would change everything.

---