He plopped down onto the bed, and one side immediately sank down. He casually threw a towel over her head, perfectly covering the small face peeking out from under the blanket.
"Ugh—"
Sophia could no longer keep up the act. She grabbed the towel from her face, sat up in a huff, and glared angrily at the relaxed Capone.
"What exactly do you want?"
"Help me dry my hair, hurry up!"
"Don't you have hands?" Sophia shot back, furiously tossing the towel back onto his head, a tooth for a tooth.
Puffed with indignation, she tried to lie back down, but Capone yanked her nightgown, pulling a little too hard, and one button popped open, exposing a smooth, round shoulder.
"Let go of me!" Sophia swatted his hand away, but he pulled her into his embrace, her soft body pressing against his hard chest.
"If you don't behave, I'll rip off your entire outfit, and then you'll know what I want!"
Sophia felt helpless; he was being such a brat.
With a huff, she fastened her clothes, half-kneeling as she took the towel to dry his hair.
She deliberately applied a lot of force, messing up his hair until it looked like a bird's nest. He didn't mind the pain, quietly letting her tug at his hair with his eyes closed.
His hair was slightly longer than when she first saw him and appeared softer, less rugged. He no longer resembled a ruthless black boss; instead, he exuded a hint of a wealthy young master.
As Sophia's movements gradually became gentler, the towel absorbed the moisture from his hair. She helped him tousle it a bit, the familiar scent of shampoo lingering in her nose.
"Why are you suddenly so gentle?" Capone wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his face in her shoulder, his hand subtly caressing her body, trying to sneak under the hem of her clothes.
"Nothing!" She was only reminded of what he had said to Lucas. He was now genuinely doing business, but he came from the underworld. Even now, when he went out, many in the circle still respected the power of the Franklin family and would refer to him as Capone with deference.
Were they really from different worlds? Would there be a future for them like this?
"Didn't you say that two people need to understand each other? Why won't you honestly tell me what you're thinking?"
Sophia felt gloomy. "Sometimes it's better not to be too honest. If you're not mentally prepared, even if you say it, you might not feel any lighter."
That wasn't her intention; she just hoped he wouldn't suppress himself too much. She wanted him to confide in her, but if he thought she wasn't a suitable person to share his past with—if reopening old wounds only brought more pain—then she would rather wait until he was ready.
Capone sighed inwardly, holding her tightly. "Are you still angry?"
Sophia shook her head, lowering her gaze to her fingers. She often unconsciously found herself looking at the little ring between her fingers.
Capone hooked his pinky around hers, leaning most of his weight against her shoulder. "The ring is still on. I thought you'd be so angry that you'd take it off and toss it aside!"
Sophia pretended to pull it off, but he stopped her, pulling her entirely into his embrace from behind.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have blamed you!" He kissed her earlobe. "I shouldn't have said those things that hurt you!"
Sophia nearly jumped as if stung by a bee, turning to stare at him. Capone frowned, "What's wrong? Did I say something else wrong?"
"Nothing… I just didn't expect you to apologize actively!"
"Is it that surprising?"
"It's very surprising. The last time I heard you say that… it was on the boat, when we all thought we wouldn't make it. That's when you said those three words and that I should have been let go sooner!"
Capone didn't speak. His warm breath brushed against her ear.
There were many apologies he should have expressed to her, but he didn't know where to start. Sometimes he wished she would forget; other times, he longed for her to remember everything.
He wanted her to never forget what they shared.
"Sophy!" He gently held her fingers, studying the two rings, and said in a deep voice, "Actually, I still have a gift I haven't given you. How about I give it to you as a Lunar New Year present?"
"What is it?"
"Don't you want to go home to see your parents and brother? I'll send you back!"
"Really?" Sophia looked up at him in surprise.
Capone nodded. She was always so excited about the news of being able to go home. In the past, she would feel angry, but now, she felt a sense of loss.
Staying by his side could never compare to going back to her own home.
Sophia seemed to sense this too and awkwardly and shyly comforted him against his chest. "I… I'll tell Mom and Dad and my brother about us when I get back. We can still meet in the future!"
Capone smiled slightly. If only everything could be that smooth and simple.
"Do you know why I don't eat cakes and pastries?"
Sophia shook her head. "Why?"
"Because that was the last thing my mom made for me. The cake was still warm from the oven, and I hadn't even finished the piece in my hand when the police came to take her away. I chased after the car for a long time, yelling desperately, but the car didn't stop. I'll never forget the taste of that cake. Any similar taste reminds me of that day, as if it signifies something!"
Capone spoke calmly. He thought he was starting to get used to tearing open those wounds from the past in front of Sophia, no longer feeling such intense emotions and pressure. Speaking about it certainly felt much lighter.
"Don't say that!" Sophia gently patted his back, as if comforting the boy who had suddenly lost his mother many years ago.
"Your mom must have loved you very much and worried about you. She wouldn't forget to bake a cake for you even knowing she was going to leave. Desserts are meant to bring joy and relaxation; she wouldn't want to see you dwelling on the past. How could you be happy like that? I… I'll make you a cake tomorrow, or tiramisu. I promise to watch you eat it. If you finish it, I won't leave. How about that?"
Capone gazed deeply at her, then leaned down to kiss her lips. The sensation was still as smooth as strawberry mousse, slightly cool, with a sweet taste that was more delightful than any cake.
"You don't have to… I'll just eat you up!" he murmured near her lips, a hunger spreading through his veins.
"You rogue, that's not what I meant, ugh…"
Resistance was futile; Sophia was still captured by his kiss. He sucked and kissed her, the heat between them rising. It felt as though her lips were about to melt.
His hands slipped to the front of her clothing, undoing the buttons. As he pushed his hands inside the opening, he kneaded and squeezed her soft, full breasts, which felt like they had various luxurious shapes in his palms. He wanted to peek, but the kiss still hadn't ventured there, lingering at her lips and teeth.
Sophia found it hard to handle his passionate and forceful kiss, her breathing quickening as she pushed him away slightly, whispering, "I don't want to…"
"Don't want to? Sophy, your body doesn't say the same, liar!" Capone moved his lips to her ear, teasingly nibbling on her earlobe.
Her lovely breasts had already swelled, the rosy tips pressing against his palm. Her chest rose and fell violently, her body feeling as soft as melted cream. Did she really dare to say she didn't want to?
Sophia felt a jolt of electricity coursing through her, wanting to escape. Pouting in dissatisfaction, she said, "I don't want to deal with you! It's always like this—if we're in a cold war, you scold me when you're in a bad mood and hug me when you feel better. I don't like it…"
Capone released her earlobe, raising his gaze to meet hers, his dark pupils glimmering with a lustful sheen, like a wolf eyeing its prey.
He kissed her jawline softly, one kiss after another, carelessly saying, "I'm not trying to have a cold war; you're the one overthinking things!"
"Not at all!"
"I've apologized!"
"Not sincerely!"
Capone let out a raspy laugh. "Then tell me, what kind of compensation would be enough?"
His movements didn't stop at all; in an instant, he had pulled her nightgown down, and his kisses gradually moved downward. However, he didn't rush to visit his favorite little bunnies. Instead, he passionately kissed along her neck and spine, each kiss landing on a vertebra, following a descending order.
She instinctively sat on the bed, her body arching forward, especially when he reached her waist. It was ticklish, as if every kiss scratched at her itch. She let out soft moans, her waist curving sensually, her whole body leaning forward as his hands held her, offering more of her soft curves into his grasp.
"I don't want compensation; um… just let me sleep!" Sophia gritted her teeth, feeling incredibly embarrassed as she spoke between soft gasps, but how could he be so teasing?
Capone didn't object; he shed his bathrobe and crawled under the covers with her, enjoying the intimate sensation of their skin touching.
"Sleep, then. I want to sleep too. Together!"
Sophia was at a loss, overwhelmed by his lips and tongue as he licked her neck. His chest pressed against her back, his thighs pinning her legs down, leaving her unable to move. She could even feel his sturdy form pressing against her in a teasing manner.
How could she possibly sleep like this?!