Page 61 of The Bear's Perfect Mate
As Sophie disappeared through the kitchen doors, Nero felt a surge of pride so intense it nearly overwhelmed him.
His bear rumbled with satisfaction.She stood her ground. She faced her fears. And she conquered them.
Chapter Twenty-Two – Sophie
Sophie smiled graciously as the last guests trickled out of the dining room, each pausing to thank her, compliment her, or snap a final photo of the evening. Her cheeks ached from smiling, and her heart was still racing, not from nerves, but from the lingering surge of adrenaline and joy.
As the restaurant doors finally closed behind the last guest, she let out a long breath. She’d done it. She’d finally stepped out of Tito’s shadow and into the light.
“Congratulations.” Cassia gave her a quick hug, then turned to marshal the kitchen staff, already deep in post-service clean-up.
“I just need a minute,” Sophie murmured, mostly to herself, and slipped toward the open terrace, the pull of the quiet night stronger than anything else.
Sophie stepped onto the terrace, the cool night air a welcome relief after the heat of the kitchen and the warmth of congratulations that had followed her throughout the evening. The dinner service had ended triumphantly, each course received with genuine appreciation that far exceeded her cautious hopes.
Nero followed close behind. Even after hours of hosting, his three-piece suit remained immaculate, not a crease out of place.
“It was perfect,” he said quietly, coming to stand beside her at the stone balustrade. “Every dish, every presentation. You were magnificent.”
Sophie smiled, her fingers instinctively finding the ruby necklace at her throat. A constant reminder of Nero’s faith in her.
“I still can’t quite believe it happened,” she admitted, gazing out at the rows of grapevines stretching into the darkness. “Standing up to Tito, the way everyone rallied around me...it feels like a dream.”
The memory of Tito’s humiliation and hasty retreat had already begun to lose its sharp edges, softening into something that felt remarkably like closure. His power over her was gone, dissolved in the moment she’d found her voice and claimed her work as her own.
“Not a dream,” Nero corrected gently. “Simply the truth asserting itself at last.”
Sophie nodded, letting her gaze drift upward to where stars pierced the velvet darkness of the night sky. Sophie nodded, letting her gaze drift upward to where stars pierced the velvet darkness of the night sky. Behind them, in the restaurant, she could hear the distant sounds of staff clearing tables, occasional laughter, and conversation drifting through the open doors.
“Chef Marco said three different diners asked if this could become a regular event,” Sophie said, still slightly awed by the reception her food had received. “And Cassia mentioned reservation inquiries for future pop-ups are already coming in.”
Nero’s hand found hers on the balustrade, his fingers warm and steady against her skin. “Talent always shines through.”
She turned toward him, struck once again by how thoroughly he believed in her. Not with blind faith, but with a clear-eyed appreciation of her abilities that had helped her reclaim belief in herself.
Sophie rubbed her thumb over the pendant absently, the cool gold grounding her. She hadn’t just cooked tonight. She’d told a story. Shared a piece of herself with every plate.
For so long, she’d worried she couldn’t do it without Tito’s platform, without someone else’s approval. Tonight had changed that. She’d seen it in the diners’ faces, heard it in their applause.
She was no longer someone’s plus-one in the kitchen. She was the main event.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said softly. “Without this.” Her fingers brushed the necklace again, the gesture now so familiar it had become almost unconscious.
“You would have found your way eventually,” Nero replied. “Though I’m profoundly grateful our paths crossed when they did.”
They stood in comfortable silence, shoulders nearly touching as they gazed out over the sleeping vineyard. Sophie could feel the last remnants of tension draining from her body, replaced by a deep contentment that seemed to flow outward from her core. For so long, she had defined herself through Tito’s lens, measuring her worth against his approval. Now, standing in the cool night air with the taste of her own success still fresh, that version of herself seemed like a stranger.
A gentle breeze stirred the vines below, carrying the scent of earth and ripening grapes. Sophie closed her eyes briefly, committing this moment to memory.
When she opened her eyes again, she noticed a subtle change in Nero’s demeanor. He looked tense. His breathing was ragged.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, turning to face him fully.
“Yes,” he said, though his voice carried an unusual note of...was it nervousness? That seemed impossible for Nero,who approached every situation with such calm certainty. “Everything is more than all right.”
Something in his tone made Sophie’s heart beat faster. She watched as Nero shifted slightly, his hand moving toward the pocket of his waistcoat. There was a barely perceptible tremor in his fingers that both surprised and intrigued her.
Sophie opened her mouth, uncertain what to say. Perhaps something about how surreal the night had been…
