Sophia stumbled into a warm and solid embrace, familiar and broad, as if it could hold everything. It felt like something she had longed for, but she couldn't recall whose embrace it was. She didn't even have the strength to lift her head to see him.
Anyway, it couldn't be Capone, right? He was still out there, busy trading her for whatever he wanted. He wouldn't be back so soon!
Was it her brother?
"Where's my Christmas present?" Every year, her brothers always prepared gifts for her, even if she was overseas, they would ensure a package arrived at her doorstep.
But this year, why was there nothing?
The owner of the embrace remained silent. He slipped his arm under her knees and carried her inside.
"You're not my brother. Let go of me... who are you? Help, Mandy, save me..."
She thought she had screamed loudly, but in reality, it was barely louder than a whisper. She wanted to keep calling out, hoping Diana and Cronus would hear her, but she was thrown heavily onto a large bed. The impact left her dizzy and disoriented. She tried to sit up, but a hand pressed down on her shoulder, and warm lips silenced her. All the words and discomfort were trapped in her chest.
She was powerless; her limbs wouldn't obey her brain. Even if she wanted to struggle and push away the weight on her, it was impossible.
The one kissing her felt like a phantom, yet undeniably real. He seemed like a stranger, yet so familiar as if they had known each other for centuries.
The kiss carried a punishing intensity. If Sophia were sober, she might have sensed how angry and frustrated he was. But she was drunk, her mind unclear, only feeling that the heat from the alcohol had been blown away by the cold sea breeze of the winter night. Her body was freezing, but the one holding her was burning hot. She instinctively clung to him, absorbing his warmth into her cold body.
Seeking warmth was instinctual. She didn't think much about it. When their bodies finally pressed completely together, Sophia found that all the previous uncertainty, confusion, and bewilderment had disappeared. She moved closer, as if trying to confirm whether this comfort was real.
Her clothes were quickly stripped away, and her body, cold to the touch, heard a low curse. She laughed softly and reached up to touch his lips.
Thin and well-shaped, they still felt so familiar, yet she refused to think about whose they were.
"Freezing like this... do you have a death wish?" His deep voice sounded a bit harsh, but Sophia wasn't scared. She spread her arms, hugging his broad shoulders tightly.
The last piece of clothing was removed—her cotton panties, impatiently torn off, sliding down her waist, over her legs, and finally hanging around her ankle.
Sophia pouted and uncomfortably kicked her feet, trying to shake off the flimsy fabric. But suddenly, her ankle was pinned down, and then she felt the man's fingers slide into her most sensitive spot, long and rough, slowly spiraling inside with the help of her body's moisture.
Her body, somehow, suddenly remembered the pleasure from many days ago. That intense experience had also started with a kiss like this, slowly spreading downward, as warm lips and tongue kissed the most delicate part of her body, lingering there.
Her arousal came quicker than usual, the slickness between them soaking both of them. With the rhythm of his fingers, the remnants of alcohol in Sophia's body were ignited by her primal passion, burning inside her. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan, her voice, soaked in intoxication, as delicate and irresistible as a pear steeped in red wine.
Sophia no longer felt cold; her body was fully warmed up. She no longer had to curl up and hold herself tight but instead let herself relax and open up. So when the man's heat filled her, it reached her deepest point in one smooth motion, sliding in without resistance. They both sighed in unison.
"Capone... mm... Capone..." Sophia continued to murmur softly, clearly uttering Capone's name.
In truth, she didn't know what she was saying. She only felt that the hard, hot thing inside her was hitting her deepest parts, as if it was touching her heart. It tickled, yet it hurt just a little, causing a trembling sensation that made her want to call out that name with each thrust.
But she lacked the strength to call it out loudly, unsure if she had truly said it. Her soft murmurs were drowned out by the deep and intense breathing next to her ear.
However, each time she uttered that name, the waves of pleasure surged stronger, and the embrace around her tightened. She felt like she was floating in warm, steaming water, the waves seemingly forceful but only making her feel gentleness and ease.
Her skin began to sweat lightly, her body rocked vigorously, rising higher and higher. With a final thrust, she was pulled deeply into his embrace, her most delicate core trembling from the heat. At the same time, she heard the pounding sound of a heartbeat, loud and steady like a drum.
She could never forget that sound, its rapid yet orderly rhythm. Each beat seemed to emphasize the tranquility of the present moment. That melody was so familiar—she had heard it more than once, felt it more than once, and more than once, her own heartbeat had synced to the same tempo.
All the drifting stopped, and she was held gently in the warmth, as if being softly carried toward the shore by the embracing currents.
"Merry Christmas!" she heard herself say, in a soft voice, like a blessing, or perhaps a word of thanks.
The response she received was a lingering, deep kiss, followed by his words: "Sleep now."
Sophia drifted off into a deep sleep, naked like a newborn, embraced by another once-lonely and cold soul. She couldn't tell who had warmed whom.
The next morning, it was the sound of rain that woke her. The beautiful Christmas holiday came without the cheer of good weather. The rain had started at some unknown time, gently falling on the terrace and windowpanes. The sky and sea were both a shade of grayish blue.
As soon as she moved, she felt the world spin. She had drunk before and knew well that this was the consequence of a hangover. But why was her body completely bare?
She attempted to sit up, but the dull ache between her legs and the milky-white fluid trickling down startled her even more.
She wasn't an inexperienced girl, but how could a whole night of passion leave her with so few clear memories? It felt as though she had been dreaming, a dream filled with warmth and calm, with tender kisses wishing her a Merry Christmas.
This Christmas Eve was far too strange.
Sophia immediately looked to the side of the bed—no one was there.
Had Capone returned? Without making a sound?
The courtyard was eerily quiet. There wasn't a single person in sight.
"Diana! Lucy!" Sophia called out as she searched inside and out, a growing sense of panic seizing her. No one responded.
She threw on a coat and ran toward the door, only to be stopped immediately.
"Miss Sophia, you can't go out! Please return inside."
She couldn't understand why, but recently all the staff had been addressing her as "Miss Sophia," deliberately omitting her last name.
The guards were still there, but why was no one else around?
Sophia hurried to the neighboring house.
"Mandy, Mandy, are you here?" He was supposed to have a session with his therapist today, so why was there no sign of activity?
She barged into the guest room where he usually practiced, and to her shock, saw his crutches and wheelchair still in the corner. His crutches lay haphazardly on the floor, as if they had been thrown down in a rush.
Sophia was truly panicking now. Although she didn't fully understand their world of business and underworld dealings, a hundred alarming possibilities flashed through her mind.
"What are you looking for? Running here first thing in the morning to meet your lover? You don't think the man who spent the night ravishing you was Mandy, do you?" Capone's cold, deep voice came from behind her, and Sophia's head began to buzz, the headache from earlier crashing back in full force.
She turned around to find Capone standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. He continued, "Don't forget, his legs aren't healed yet. He couldn't have given you that heavenly experience you enjoyed so much."
Sophia's face flushed red, then quickly drained of color. "When... when did you come back?"
"I've been back long enough to watch your tender reunion, hear your promises of undying love. Had I returned a bit later, I might have caught you two running off together, hand in hand, filled with affection!"
"What are you talking about?"
Sophia was overwhelmed by both shame and anger. Every word out of his mouth seemed to be targeting her and Mandy. Nothing had happened between them, but Capone made it sound like they were adulterers caught in the act.
The one who carried her back to the room last night was him. The one who took advantage of her drunken state, who invaded her body, who gave her the illusion of warmth—that was him. And now, he was the one mocking and humiliating her with cruel words!
What on earth had happened?
"Where's Mandy? What did you do to him?"
Capone walked toward her slowly, stopping just inches away. The familiar scent of his aftershave—cool mint mixed with tobacco—hit her, but there was something else too, something unfamiliar... like gunpowder?
Sophia's body jolted with realization. He couldn't have...
"I killed him! Last night, right here, with a gun pressed to his chest. I shot him!" he said, casually, almost lightly. "What's wrong? Heartbroken?"
"Capone, are you insane?!" Sophia screamed at him, her voice breaking, nearly bringing her to tears.