Page 43 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

I stare at the words, the ink bleeding into my skin like poison.

The threat isn’t subtle. It’s personal. And that line,you’ll both suffer,it’s not just about me anymore.

Sophie’s in the crosshairs.

I lift my head and find Sophie across the ballroom.

She’s radiant in that gown, half-turned toward the stage, unaware of the storm crashing toward her. She’s laughing politely with some investor in a navy tux, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s putting on a show, flawless as ever.

But I see it. The slight shift in her stance. The weariness in her expression.

Unaware that someone just promised to drag her down with me. My chaos. My enemies.

The air thickens around me, like smoke before fire.

And suddenly, this whole damn night, with the tux, the donation, the charm, feels like a fucking illusion. Like I’ve been playing dress-up while someone loaded a bullet with her name on it.

My jaw tightens.

I’ve lived my life like a goddamn grenade, pull the pin, enjoy the blast.

But Sophie?

She’s not collateral.

She’s the only thing in this mess worth saving.

Even if it means burning every bridge I’ve got.

Even if it means stepping back from her, for her sake.

Even if it means I’ll burn myself.

I shove the note into my pocket, crumpled like the resolve I used to have about keeping things casual.

Not anymore.

I’ll protect you, Soph.

Even if it means protecting you from me.

11

SOPHIE

I sit cross-legged on the bed, still in my gala dress, the satin cool against my overheated skin. My heels are abandoned somewhere across the room, I kicked them off the second the door shut behind me, shedding a night I want to forget but can’t stop reliving.

Alessio's been holed up in his room since we got back, quiet. No cocky remarks, no flirtatious smirks echoing down the hall. Just silence.

It’s unnerving. He’s different, wound tight in a way I don’t know how to read.

And the worst part? I keep listening for him.

My phone won’t stop buzzing. Notifications, press alerts, team updates. Everyone has something to say. Everyone but him.

And that silence? It’s louder than anything else. It’s not like him to disappear into himself. Not like this. Not when everything’s falling apart. And the fact that he hasn’t said a word, not even to me, crawls under my skin, makes my heart twist in ways I wish I could ignore.

But it’s that woman's voice from the gala I can’t silence, sharp, smug, slicing through my skull like glass.She’s just the next flavor.

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