9. Sofia

9

SOFIA

I ’m still trying to wrap my head around everything as I stand in the middle of the crowded funeral home, surrounded by whispers and judgmental stares. It feels like I’m moving through a thick fog, everything muffled and distant, as if I’m not really here. Gino’s words keep echoing in my mind, each revelation cutting deeper than the last.

Perfezione was given to my mother because Don Antoni loved her? I can’t make sense of it. Did my mother love him back? The thought alone feels like a betrayal, like something sacred has been twisted into something ugly and tainted.

I glance around the room, catching snippets of conversations, the looks people are giving me. It’s like they all know something I don’t, like they’re in on some terrible secret. My heart races, and I feel the walls closing in on me.

Why didn’t Zip ever tell me about this? Did he know? He must have known. My grandfather has always been fiercely protective of me, always there to shield me from the uglier side of our world. But this… this feels like a blindside, like I’ve been left out in the cold with no idea what’s really going on.

I feel like I’m drowning in questions, each one heavier than the last. If Antoni loved my mother, why didn’t she ever say anything? Why didn’t she tell me about him, about the building, about any of this? Did she hide it because she was ashamed, or is there something else I’m missing?

I try to focus on the people around me, on the murmurs of condolence and the heavy atmosphere of grief, but it’s all just a blur. The only things that feel real are the confusion and anger swirling inside me, making it impossible to think straight.

I see Zip across the room, his face etched with worry as he speaks to some old family friends. Did he know this whole time? He must have. Didn’t he tell Gino that he and Antoni had an agreement that Perfezione would remain neutral territory? Is that why that deal came about? Because Antoni loved my mother?

The questions are burning in my throat, but I can’t bring myself to confront him or my mother, not here, not now. The truth is, I’m scared of what they might say, scared of the answers I might get.

I keep replaying Gino’s words over and over in my head, trying to piece together the puzzle of my mother’s relationships, of this building that’s been my salvation. But the more I think about it, the less sense it makes. It’s like trying to hold onto water, slipping through my fingers no matter how tightly I try to grip it.

The fog in my mind thickens, making it hard to breathe, hard to focus. I feel like I’m on the edge of something, a precipice I never knew was there, and one wrong step could send me tumbling into an abyss I’m not ready to face.

Angelo's voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts, grounding me. “Fee, breathe,” he says softly, his hand a steadying presence on my shoulder. “We’ll get answers, I promise. As soon as the viewing is over.”

I nod, trying to focus on the rise and fall of my breath, on the solidity of Angelo’s hand. But the weight of everything I’ve just learned makes it hard to think clearly. Still, I manage to hold it together until the last mourner files out of the room.

As soon as the doors close, I don’t waste a second. I march straight toward my mother and Zip, my mind swirling with anger and confusion. Without thinking, I grab my mother’s arm, my voice low and fierce. “We need to talk. Now .”

Mom looks startled, her usual air of arrogance faltering for a moment. Angelo, always the calm in the storm, steps forward. “Let’s take this somewhere private,” he suggests. “My car shop isn’t far.”

I blink, momentarily thrown by the idea that Angelo owns a car repair shop. It seems so… ordinary for him. But there’s no time to dwell on it. I nod in agreement, and we quickly make our way to his shop.

The drive is tense, the silence heavy with unspoken questions. When we arrive, Angelo leads us into a small office at the back of the shop, the smells of oil and rubber lingering in the air. It’s a far cry from the opulence of the funeral home, but it’s private, and that’s all that matters.

I turn to my mother as soon as the door closes behind us, my voice shaking with barely contained anger. “What’s going on, Mom? What’s the real story between our families? I need to know the truth—no more lies.”

Mom sighs, a deep, weary sound that seems to age her by years. She hesitates, clearly struggling with what to say, but I’m done with her evasions. “You’ve lied to me long enough,” I press, my voice harsh. “Tell me the truth. All of it. Tell me about your history with Antoni Timpone, Mom. Clearly, that’s a bone of contention with Gino.”

“We had an affair,” Cher begins, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “For years before you were born. It wasn’t just that he loved me, Fee. He believed you were his daughter.”

Her words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. My world tilts on its axis, and my legs buckle under the weight of what she’s just said. No wonder Antoni Timpone was always so kind to me.

Before I can collapse, Jimbo quickly grabs a chair and slides it behind me. I sink into it, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I try to process this bombshell.

“Does that mean…” I start, my voice faint as I force myself to ask the question that’s clawing at my throat. “Does that mean Antoni is my father?”

Mom scoffs, the sound sharp and dismissive. “No, Sofia. He wasn’t your father. But I never corrected those rumors because it kept our family and business protected.”

My head spins as I try to wrap my mind around this. All my life, I thought I knew who I was, where I came from. And now, in the span of a few minutes, everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down. The man I believed was nothing more than a distant Mafia Don could have been my father if things had gone differently.

And my mother let everyone believe it because it was convenient for her.

Angelo steps closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of my thoughts. I glance up at him, my eyes searching his for something to hold onto. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he looks at me, steady and sure, gives me a sliver of strength.

“So, Gino…” I struggle to find the right words. “He’s angry because Antoni loved us? Because of what he thought?”

Mom nods, her expression bitter. “Yes. Gino’s always been twisted, but this… this is his way of lashing out. Antoni’s love for us, for you, was a weakness in his eyes. And now he wants to erase that weakness completely.”

The revelation feels like a knife to the gut. “But why? Why is he so determined to destroy us?”

“Because our success is a reminder of what Gino sees as his father’s betrayal,” Mom says, her voice hardening. “In his mind, we represent everything that made his father weak. And he can’t stand it.”

I look at Zip who is standing nearby with a man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. I think his name is Romero. “Is this why Antoni Timpone and you had an understanding about Perfezione?”

Zip nods, looking miserable. “Yes, Tesoro .”

“Does Gino know that we aren’t actually related?” I ask my mother.

Mom hesitates. “I’m pretty sure he knows, but I don’t know if he actually believes it.”

I can barely process what anyone is saying. “But if Gino knows all this, why is he so determined to destroy us? Wouldn’t he want to distance himself entirely?”

“Gino’s always been complex,” Mom says, shaking her head. “He wants to erase that reminder that his father was weak completely.”

Angelo, who’s been silent until now, finally speaks up, his voice grim. “Gino’s bloodlust isn’t about family anymore. It’s about power and revenge. He wants to prove he’s stronger than his father by destroying what Antoni protected.”

The pieces are falling into place, but the picture they form is terrifying. “I need to talk to him,” I say, the idea taking root in my mind. “Maybe if I appeal to him directly, he’ll see reason.”

Angelo’s face darkens, his eyes flashing with concern. “No, Sofia. It’s too dangerous.”

“I have to try,” I insist, my voice trembling with determination. “I can’t just stand by and let him destroy everything.”

Reluctantly, Angelo nods, his jaw tight. “Fine, but we’re doing it my way. I’ll set up a meeting at Kings. It’s neutral ground.” His eyes bore into mine, filled with worry. “But I’m coming with you.”

It doesn’t take long for Gino to agree to meet at Kings and within the hour, Marco pulls up to Kings. My heart is racing. Angelo’s steady presence beside me is the only thing keeping me grounded. Marco follows close behind, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings.

The hairs at the back of my neck suddenly stand up, and I whirl around, heart pounding. It feels like someone is… watching me.

“You alright there?” Angelo asks in concern while Marco’s hand flies to his hip where his gun is.

I glance around at the busy street with people going about their business and cars driving by. There’s no one who looks suspicious.

Nodding, I take a deep breath. “Yeah, it was nothing.”

As we enter, the dim lighting and hushed conversations do little to ease my nerves. Dimitri greets us at the door, his face a mask of barely concealed irritation.

“Don Pirelli,” he says, his voice clipped. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing this meeting to take place after the… incident.”

Angelo nods curtly. “We appreciate your discretion, Dimitri.”

Dimitri leads us through the club, past curious onlookers and whispered conversations. I can feel eyes on us, watching, judging. It takes all my willpower not to fidget under their scrutiny.

We reach a private room at the back of the club. Dimitri pauses at the door, his hand on the handle. “He’s already inside,” he informs us, his tone making it clear he disapproves of this entire situation.

As Dimitri opens the door, I catch sight of Gino. He’s seated at a small table, looking infuriatingly relaxed.

“About time you come back in here,” Gino taunts Dimitri. “Where’s my scotch?”

Dimitri scowls. “You can get it yourself. Like I told Don Pirelli, you’re lucky I even allowed you back inside here.”

Gino looks bored.

“That little stunt outside my establishment has cost me dearly,” Dimitri snaps, his voice rough with anger. “Do you have any idea how many high-profile clients I’ve had to turn away? The reputation I’ve built?—”

Gino cuts him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Spare me the dramatics, Dimitri. Your ‘reputation’ will survive.”

“Dramatics?” Dimitri’s voice rises an octave. “You call a car bomb dramatics ? This isn’t some cheap action movie, Gino. This is my livelihood!”

Gino rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a thick wad of cash and tosses it carelessly at Dimitri. “There. That should cover your precious losses and then some. Now shut up about it and get me some goddamn scotch.”

Dimitri’s eyes narrow as he looks at the money, then back at Gino. “You think you can just throw money at every problem? This isn’t about the cash. It’s about respect!”

“Respect?” Gino laughs, the sound cold and humorless. “You want respect? Earn it. Until then, take the money and be fucking grateful I’m feeling generous.”

I watch this exchange, feeling a mixture of disgust and fascination. These men, with all their wealth and power, reduced to bickering like schoolchildren. It would almost be comical if the stakes weren’t so high.

Taking a deep breath, I step forward. “Gino,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel, “we need to talk.”

His eyes meet mine, and I feel a chill run down my spine at the cold hatred I see there.

“Well, well,” Gino drawls. “If it isn’t the happy couple. Come to beg for mercy?”

I clench my fists, forcing myself to remain calm. This is my one chance to reason with him, to find a peaceful solution. I can’t let his taunts get to me.

Angelo places a reassuring hand on my back as we take our seats across from Gino. Marco positions himself by the door, a silent but imposing presence.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Gino,” I begin, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “I hope we can come to an understanding.”

Gino scoffs. “I highly doubt it.”

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. “I have a proposition. Let’s do a DNA test, prove once and for all that we’re not related. Then we can discuss a fair deal for the Perfezione building.”

For a moment, Gino just stares at me. Then he throws his head back and laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sends chills down my spine.

“A DNA test?” he sneers. “You think I’m stupid? I already know we’re not related, Sofia. I’ve known for years.” He laughs again. “Did you really think my father impregnated your whore mother? Oh, that is too good.”

My heart sinks. I’d been counting on this revelation to change things. “Then why…” I start, but Gino cuts me off.

“Why do I hate you?” His eyes are cold, filled with a loathing that takes my breath away. “Because you and your family’s success are a physical representation of my father’s weakness. It makes all Timpones look weak.”

I feel like I can’t breathe. I really thought I would be able to get Gino to see reason, but the hatred in his eyes tells me I was fooling myself.

Gino stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “This meeting is over,” he snarls. “Fucking waste of time.”

He turns to Angelo, his voice dripping with malice. “Do something about this and ignite a war, or Sofia’s family can pay the obscene price and hopefully bankrupt themselves. Your choice.”

With that, he storms out of the room, leaving us in stunned silence. I look at Angelo, feeling utterly defeated.

“What now?” I whisper, my voice shaking.

Angelo’s jaw is set, his eyes hard as he watches the door Gino just exited through. After a long moment, he sighs. “I’m not sure, Fee. This is… complicated.”

His admission sends a wave of panic through me. If Angelo doesn’t know what to do, how can I possibly hope to fix this? My mind races, trying to grasp the impossible task ahead. “How can I get 4.9 million dollars in three months?” I whisper, more to myself than to Angelo.

Oh, God, Lou and I are going to be homeless. We can’t rely on Zip, and I sure as hell am not going to ask my mother if we can stay with her.

Angelo turns to Marco. “Drive us to the car shop,” he instructs.

“The car shop?” I ask weakly. “What will that do?”

Angelo’s expression softens as he looks at me. “We’re going to take a drive, clear our heads. Maybe it’ll help us calm down and think more clearly.”

I nod, not sure what else to do. As we follow Marco out of Kings, I feel numb. The weight of Gino’s threats, the enormity of the sum he’s demanding, it all feels too much to bear.

As we climb into the car, I catch Angelo’s eye. He reaches over and squeezes my hand gently. “We’ll figure this out, Fee. I promise.”

I don’t know if I believe him.

Angelo guides the sleek, midnight blue 1967 Chevrolet Impala smoothly through the streets. The car purrs like a contented cat, its restored interior a perfect blend of vintage charm and modern comfort. Soft jazz plays from the speakers, a soothing counterpoint to my racing thoughts.

I watch the city lights blur past, trying to focus on the moment rather than the looming threat of Gino’s demands. Before long, we’re pulling up to a secluded spot under the Brooklyn Bridge. The Manhattan skyline glitters across the water, a breathtaking view that momentarily distracts me from my worries.

Angelo kills the engine but leaves the music playing softly. We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, both lost in thought.

Finally, Angelo turns to me. “Fee, I think I might have a solution. It’s not perfect, but it could help.”

I face him, hope flickering in my chest. “What is it?”

“I could buy half of Perfezione. That would give you the funds to pay off Gino, and you’d still retain control of the business.”

I blink, surprised. “You’d do that?”

Angelo nods. “It would be a legitimate business transaction. You’d get the money you need, and I’d get a stake in another reputable business. Win-win.”

I consider his offer. It’s a lifeline, a way out of this impossible situation. But it would mean letting someone else into the business my family has been running.

“Would Zip and I still make all the decisions for Perfezione?” I ask cautiously.

“Absolutely,” Angelo assures me. “I’d be a silent partner. This is your legacy, Fee. I just want to help you protect it.”

I look out at the skyline, weighing my options. But really, what choice do I have?

I turn back to Angelo. “Okay,” I say, my voice firm despite the butterflies in my stomach. “Let’s do it. If it’ll keep Lou and me safe and save Perfezione, I’m in.”

Angelo grins, and I’m struck once again by how handsome he is. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, highlighting the kindness in his eyes. A wave of gratitude washes over me—for his help, his support, and for simply being here with me in this moment.

Without overthinking it, I lean forward, closing the distance between us. My lips meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a heartbeat, the world seems to stand still. All the worries and fears that have been plaguing me fade away, replaced by the warmth of his presence.

As I pull back slightly, my heart racing, I search Angelo’s eyes. There’s surprise there, but also something else—a warmth that makes my breath catch.

“Fee,” he murmurs, his voice low and tender.

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks, but I don’t look away. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”

Angelo reaches up, gently cupping my cheek with his hand. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says softly. “I’m here because I want to be. Because you’re worth it.”

His words send a thrill through me. For a moment, we just look at each other, the air between us charged with possibility. Then, slowly, Angelo leans in, bringing his lips to mine once more.

This time, the kiss is more urgent, a spark igniting between us. His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as our mouths move together with a growing hunger. I can feel the intensity building, a need that’s been simmering under the surface now bubbling over.

I press myself against him, wanting to be as close as possible, wanting to show him just how much his support means to me—how much he means to me. Our kissing becomes wilder, more desperate, as if we’re both trying to drown out the world around us.

Angelo’s hands roam over my body, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I can’t get enough of him, of this feeling. My hands explore his broad chest, then slide down to his lap, where I can feel the evidence of his desire pressing against the fabric of his pants.

I break the kiss just long enough to glance down, and a wicked idea takes hold. I want to show him my gratitude in a way that words can’t express. With a teasing smile, I reach for his belt, unbuckling it with deft fingers.

“Fee,” Angelo says, his voice thick with a mix of surprise and desire.

“Let me,” I murmur, my eyes locking onto his as I slowly unzip his pants. My hands are steady, but my heart is pounding with excitement.

I lower my head, feeling the heat radiating off him as I free his dick from the confines of his clothing. The sight of his thick cock, hard and ready, sends a jolt of desire through me. I want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel—no, better.

Without another word, I wrap my hand around the base of his length, giving him a gentle squeeze before lowering my lips to him. The warmth of him against my mouth, the taste of his skin, it all overwhelms me in the best way possible. I swirl my tongue around the tip, savoring the salty taste, and then take him deeper, inch by inch, into my mouth.

Angelo groans, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through the car, making my core clench with need. His hand finds its way into my hair, gripping it tightly, and I love the feeling of his control over me, the way he’s completely lost in the sensation.

I start with slow, deliberate movements, bobbing my head up and down as I work him with my mouth. My tongue slides along the underside of his shaft, tracing every ridge, every vein, as I take him deeper. His hips begin to move, thrusting upward to meet my mouth, his groans growing louder with each stroke.

“Fee… fuck,” Angelo growls, his voice strained, filled with raw desire. The sound of him losing control spurs me on, making me want to drive him to the edge.

I quicken my pace, hollowing my cheeks as I take him as deep as I can, feeling him hit the back of my throat. The sensation is intense, and I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. All I want is to give him this, to show him how much he means to me.

Angelo’s grip in my hair tightens, guiding me as he thrusts harder into my mouth. The car is filled with the wet, erotic sounds of my mouth working on him, mixed with his desperate moans and the occasional sharp gasp.

I’m completely overwhelmed by how much I care about him, how much I want to please him. I take him even deeper, my eyes watering as I push past the limits of my comfort. I feel him pulsing in my mouth, the tension in his body coiled so tightly that I know he’s close.

“Fee, I’m gonna…” Angelo’s voice is ragged, on the brink of losing all control.

I don’t slow down. If anything, I push myself harder, taking him even deeper, my hand working in sync with my mouth as I feel him begin to unravel. His hips jerk upward, thrusting into my mouth with a primal need that has me aching with desire.

With a final, desperate moan, Angelo’s body tenses, and he spills into my mouth. The taste of him floods my senses, and I swallow, not wanting to waste a drop. His groans fill the car, his grip on my hair almost painful as he rides out his climax, lost in the pleasure I’m giving him.

When it’s over, I pull back, my lips tingling, my heart racing with exhilaration. I look up at him, seeing the satisfaction and awe in his eyes, and I know that I’ve given him something no one else ever could.

Angelo is gasping, his chest heaving as he comes down from the high. I watch him, feeling a wave of complete satisfaction wash over me. The way his eyes darken, filled with a renewed hunger, makes my heart race all over again.

“Fee,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, “I’m about to fuck you so hard.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, and my core clenches with anticipation. The heat between us is unbearable, the car thick with the scents of sex and desire. My body is aching for him, desperate for the feel of him inside me.

Just as he reaches out to pull me closer, ready to order me into the backseat, a noise outside catches our attention.

The sound of footsteps, approaching fast.

Someone has followed us here.