Page 33 of Forsaken Promises

“Is everything okay?” I ask gently, moving to sit beside her on the bed. “You left dinner so suddenly.”

“I'm fine,” she says, but her voice is too brittle, too controlled. I know she's lying and can see the walls she’s trying to build back up around herself.

“Sofia, please,” I say, reaching out to take her hand in mine. “Talk to me. If something’s bothering you, I want to know.”

She's silent for a long moment, and I can practically see the internal battle raging behind her eyes. But finally, she looks up at me, and the pain and anger I see there nearly take my breath away.

“Is that really all our marriage is to you?” she asks, her voice sharp and accusing. “Just a strategic move, a way to elevate your Family’s status and gain new business opportunities?”

I feel like I've been punched in the gut by this question. Didn’t Sofia just tell me yesterday that she was going to treat our marriage as a business transaction? What changed so quickly? Why is she so hurt by it?

“What? No, of course not! Sofia, how could you even think that?”

She laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. “How could I not think that, Dominico? Your father just laid it all out so clearly, didn't he? The Marinos gain the Sicuras’ protection, and the Sicuras gain access to power. It's a win-win situation, right?”

I shake my head vehemently, my grip on her hand tightening. “No, Sofia, that's not what this is about. Not for me, at least.”

She scoffs, pulling her hand out of mine. “Don't lie to me, Dominico. I'm not a fool. I know how this world works, how marriages like ours are nothing more than transactions between powerful Families.”

I feel a flare of anger and frustration, my jaw clenching tight. “Is that really what you think of me, Sofia? That I’m just using you, that I don’t care about you at all?”

She's silent for a moment, her eyes searching mine as if looking for some hint of deception. “I don't know what to think anymore,” she whispers finally, her voice small and lost. “I thought… I thought maybe we were making progress, that maybe there was still a chance for us. So I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself for forgetting for an afternoon that you don’t love me.”

She’s not mad at me? She’s mad at herself for not thinking that I don’t love her, that I don’t want her the way I once did?

JesusChrist.

I feel a surge of guilt and regret wash over me, a painful reminder of the mistakes I made all those years ago. I was young and stupid then, too selfish and immature to realize what I had, what I was throwing away.

But I’m not that boy anymore. I’m a man now, a man who knows what he wants and what he’s willing to fight for. And what I want, more than anything in this world, is Sofia.

This afternoon in the woods showed me how much I care for her, how I yearn for her.

I see the hurt and confusion in her eyes, the way she’s trying so hard to hold onto her anger, to keep me at a distance. But I won’t let her, not this time.

I reach out and grab her face in my hands, pulling her toward me with a desperate urgency. She tries to pull away, but I hold her fast, my eyes boring into hers with a fierce intensity.

“You’re wrong, Sofia,” I growl, my voice low and rough with emotion. “You’re so fucking wrong.”

And then I’m kissing her, my lips crashing against hers with a passion that takes us both by surprise. She stiffens for a moment, trying to resist, but I don’t let up. I pour everything I have into that kiss, every ounce of love and desire and desperate need that I’ve been holding back for so long.

I feel her start to melt against me, her body molding to mine as if it were made to fit there. Her hands come up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as she parts her lips, letting me deepen the kiss.

I groan into her mouth, my tongue tangling with hers in a dance that’s both familiar and new. I can taste the salt of her tears, the bitterness of her anger, but beneath it all, there’s something else. Something sweet and intoxicating.

As I pour my heart into the kiss, I feel Sofia’s resistance start to crumble. She melts into my embrace, her body softening against mine as she returns the kiss with a fervor that matches my own.

When we finally break apart, both of us gasping for air, I search her face for any hint of the love I know still lingers between us. “Can you really tell me you don’t want this, Sofia?” I ask softly, my voice rough with emotion. “That you don’t feel the connection between us, the pull that’s always been there?”

She looks away, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Of course I feel it, Dom,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “I’ve never been able to resist you, not really. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t trust you with my heart again. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

A pang of regret and sadness washes over me, a painful reminder of the damage I’ve done to the bond we once shared. “I know I hurt you, Sofia,” I murmur, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m not the same man I was back then. I’ve grown, I’ve changed. All I want is a chance to prove to you that this is real and lasting.”

She meets my gaze then, her blue eyes cool. “I’ll never love you again, Dom,” she says, her voice level, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy fucking you.”

Sofia’s words hit me like a slap in the face, the sting of them leaving me reeling. She’ll never love me again? She sees sex with me as nothing more than a source of pleasure, a way to scratch an itch?

A surge of hurt and anger washes over me, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Is that really all I am to her now? A convenient body to use for her own satisfaction, a way to pass the time in this sham of a marriage?

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