Page 50 of The One
“What? No.” She finishes tucking her hair behind her ear, before looking at me again. “I’ve heard of him, of course. Everyone in my family can name the key players in the De Marco empire. He’ll be the next consigliere, right?”
I pick up a pillow and hug it tightly against my chest. I don’t get why Sofia knowing my dad is such a shock. Her explanation makes sense, but I guess I just didn’t expect it.
“Did… does your family have a dossier on mine that you discussed around the dinner table?” I ask, half-joking.
“My father had information on everyone important. I doubt the De Marco brothers operate differently. Information is power, and you need to know your enemies,” she says matter-of-factly. “So why was your father looking for you here?” she asks full of curiosity.
I sigh, letting myself fall backward onto the bed. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, I have lots of time,” she replies with a humorless laugh, lying down next to me. “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere. Spill.”
“My father is furious with me.” Just saying the words seems to make my cheek throb.
“Why? What did you do? Did you run away?”
“I wish. No, I was meant to get married on Saturday. To Renaldo Conti.”
“Oh,” Sofia sighs, as if she knows exactly who I’m talking about. Seems like the Molinaro dinner conversations were a lot different from ours.
“I felt so sick about it, I fainted right before we exchanged vows.”
I leave out the part about vomiting on the priest. While it’s kind of funny in hindsight, I’m still reeling from the embarrassment.
Sofia’s eyes widen. “Wow, what a way to get out of it! Let me guess, your father hasn’t been able to patch it up and let his anger out on you.”
“Yeah, that sums it up. If Mateo hadn’t intervened, I’m sure I’d look much worse.”
“Oh? Mateo, is it? You’re calling him by his first name?” She nudges me playfully and my cheeks blaze with heat.
“It rolls off the tongue much easier than saying the younger Signor De Marco,” I say, a tad defensive. I sure as hell won’t tell her he gave me permission to call him Mateo.
Sofia chuckles. “That leads to my next question. How did you end up in Rome? I’m guessing the wedding was in Sicily.”
“It was. My father was so furious, everyone thought he’d kill me. Don De Marco put me under his brother’s protection, and since he was headed here, I came along.”
“Your Don is kinder than my father ever would have been. He didn’t care much for women or children. Only about his power.”
I turn my head to look at Sofia. She’s staring at the ceiling. There is sadness in her expression, and something else I can’t quite decipher.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asks quietly, without moving an inch.
I hug the pillow tighter and let out a long sigh. What’s the point of denying it? She deserves to know.
“I’m sorry, Sofia.”
She clasps her hands together, squeezing her fingers.
“And my brothers?” This time, she turns her head to look at me.
I shake my head, not wanting to be the one to voice that she’s now all alone in the world.
She turns her head, staring at the ceiling again, her face tight and withdrawn.
“You better get back, or they’ll send a search party for you,” she says, her voice quiet and somehow removed from the here and now.
She wants to be alone. I get it. She might not have liked her father much, but he was still her father.
I get off the bed, glancing down at Sofia. She seems lost in her own world.
