Page 4 of Auctioned Innocence
Every accidental brush of feet under the table feels like an electric shock.
Uncle Lorenzo sits at my father’s right hand, as always.
Throughout dinner, I feel his gaze on me, calculating and speculative.
When he leans over to whisper something to my father that makes them both glance my way, unease crawls up my spine.
I find myself remembering last Christmas, when I’d found Dante alone in the library.
The way he’d backed me against the shelves, the heat of his body so close to mine.
“We can’t,” he’d whispered, even as his hand had come up to cup my cheek.
Then Marco’s voice in the hallway had shattered the moment.
Now, watching him methodically cut his steak, I wonder if he thinks about these moments too.
These almosts.
These could-have-beens.
“You’re quiet tonight, Sofia,” Uncle Lorenzo observes, his voice carrying down the table. “Usually we can’t keep you from sharing your charming opinions.”
All eyes turn to me, including Dante’s.
I straighten subtly, trying not to let my irritation show.
“Just tired from finals, Uncle.” I force a smile. “Three exams in two days, plus that project I was working on.”
“Her little computer program,” my father explains to the table with indulgent pride, patting my hand like I’ve drawn him a picture for the refrigerator rather than designed a security system that keeps his assets safe. “She’s always been so clever with her little gadgets.”
Lorenzo’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And how is the computer science program treating you? Still top of your class?”
“She is,” my father continues, pride evident in his voice. “Professor Alvarez called me personally to say Sofia’s coding skills are the best he’s seen in twenty years of teaching. My little girl’s always been bright.”
I force myself not to wince at being called his “little girl” in front of everyone.
“The security system she designed is actually quite impressive,” Dante adds unexpectedly, his tone professional. “Stopped several intrusion attempts at the Miami property.”
Marco nods in agreement.
“She has a knack for finding weaknesses others miss.”
Something like annoyance flickers across Lorenzo’s face before his expression smooths out.
“Charming hobbies. Though one wonders if such technical distractions might be taking you away from more appropriate pursuits,tesoro. Young ladies should have more refined interests.”
“Every modern business needs tech expertise,” I counter, trying to keep my tone respectful despite my frustration. “Even ours.”
Did they not learn from the fall of Seamus O’Connor?
The table falls silent.
We don’t talk about “the business” at dinner parties.
Ever.
Lorenzo’s eyes gleam with something I can’t quite read.
