Chapter 4 - THE SAFE HARBOR
Alessandro found Sophia and Emma in his private study. The room was a fortress within a fortress, featuring bulletproof glass and reinforced steel doors disguised as mahogany.
Sophia was sitting on the edge of a leather sofa, wringing her hands, while Emma was on the Persian rug, quietly making her stuffed rabbit climb a stack of first-edition books.
When Alessandro entered, Sophia jumped to her feet.
“Mr. DeLuca, please. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble. We can leave. I’ll pack our things—”
“Sit down, Sophia,” Alessandro said. The command was softer than usual. He walked over to his mahogany desk, unbuttoning his collar. “You are not going anywhere. If Lorenzo knows your husband formulated that poison, and he knows your daughter can recognize it, you are both loose ends. The moment you step off my property, you are dead.”
Sophia collapsed back onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands. A stifled sob escaped her.
Alessandro watched her. He was a man surrounded by beautiful, calculating women who wanted his money, his power, or his name. Sophia was different. She was fighting for survival, for her child. There was a raw, unpolished strength to her that he found deeply arresting.
He knelt on the rug next to Emma. The little girl stopped playing and looked up at him with massive, solemn brown eyes.
“You are very brave, Emma,” Alessandro said softly.
“You’re welcome for the coffee,” Emma replied matter-of-factly, adjusting her rabbit’s floppy ear.
A genuine, rare smile broke across Alessandro’s face. It felt foreign to his facial muscles. “Yes. Thank you. You saved my life.” He reached out, gently tapping the rabbit on the nose. “What is your rabbit’s name?”
“Barnaby,” Emma said. “He’s a good guard. He watches the door at night.”
“Well, Barnaby can take the night off,” Alessandro said, looking up at Sophia, his eyes locking onto hers. “No one will hurt you here. You have my word. And the word of a DeLuca is written in blood.”
Sophia looked into his dark eyes and saw the absolute, terrifying truth in them. He was a monster to the world, but in this room, he was their shield. For the first time since her husband died, she felt a flicker of hope.
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“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Alessandro said, standing up. “The war starts tonight.”
