Sophia sat quietly in the living room, her thoughts swirling as the weight of Dante's absence settled over her. She wasn't reckless, and she wasn't going to put herself—or him—in danger by interfering. But that didn't mean she could sit idly by without preparing for whatever might come next.
She glanced at her laptop on the coffee table. If Matteo Savino was targeting Dante and her, there had to be a reason. And if Dante wouldn't let her fight alongside him, the least she could do was understand their enemy.
Pulling the laptop into her lap, Sophia began typing furiously, searching through the databases and contacts she'd used as an investigative journalist. Matteo Savino wasn't just any rival—he was calculating, ruthless, and known for exploiting his enemies' weaknesses.
Her fingers paused mid-typing as she stumbled upon a recent article detailing Matteo's rise to power. It mentioned his ties to a mysterious investor who had been backing his operations.
"Who are you?" Sophia murmured, clicking on the link.
The article didn't offer much detail, but it gave her a name: Stefano Allegri. A shiver ran down her spine as she recognized the name from a previous investigation—Allegri was an infamous arms dealer who had been linked to several high-profile incidents.
If Matteo had Allegri's resources behind him, this wasn't just a territorial squabble. This was war.
Sophia's stomach churned as she realized the magnitude of the threat Dante was facing. She closed her laptop and leaned back, her mind racing.
She trusted Dante to handle himself, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than even he realized.
Meanwhile, at the Warehouse
Dante strode into the dimly lit space where Leo was waiting for him. The scent of oil and dust hung heavy in the air, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed through the cavernous building.
"Matteo's been holed up here," Leo said, nodding toward a map spread out on a table. "Security's tight, but I've got eyes on every exit."
Dante studied the map, his jaw clenched. "And Allegri? Is he here too?"
Leo raised an eyebrow. "You think Stefano's involved in this?"
Dante's expression darkened. "I don't think. I know."
Leo let out a low whistle. "If Allegri's in the mix, this just got a whole lot messier."
"Which is why we need to end this tonight," Dante said firmly. "Matteo's bold, but he's reckless. He won't expect us to strike so soon."
Leo smirked. "That's why I like working with you, boss. You don't play by the rules."
Dante didn't respond, his focus already shifting to the task at hand. "What's the plan?"
"Simple," Leo said, tapping the map. "We create a distraction at the east entrance to draw his men out. While they're occupied, we'll slip in through the west side and catch Matteo off guard."
Dante nodded. "Good. Let's move."
As Leo gathered the team, Dante's thoughts drifted briefly to Sophia. He could still see the worry in her eyes when he'd left.
Stay safe, bella, he thought, steeling himself for what was to come.
Back at Home
Sophia paced the living room, unable to shake the unease that had settled over her. The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of the guards Dante had stationed outside.
She hated feeling so helpless, but she also knew that interfering now would only make things worse.
Her phone buzzed, and she quickly grabbed it, hoping for a message from Dante. But it wasn't him.
Instead, it was an unknown number.
You should know who Stefano Allegri really is, the message read.
Sophia's heart raced as a second message came through, this one containing a link.
Her finger hovered over the screen, doubt and curiosity warring within her. Whoever had sent this knew she was looking into Allegri. But why?
Taking a deep breath, Sophia clicked the link.
What she saw made her blood run cold.
A photo appeared on the screen—of Dante, shaking hands with Stefano Allegri.
Sophia sat in Dante's study, the photograph of him shaking hands with Stefano Allegri still burned into her memory. Her mind raced as she sifted through the implications, trying to make sense of it all without letting her emotions take over. Dante had been gentle with her, even protective, but she couldn't afford to let her guard down—not yet.
The sound of the door opening drew her from her thoughts. Dante stepped inside, his dark eyes immediately locking onto hers. His usual commanding presence seemed softer as he approached, his gaze flicking to the files spread across the desk.
"You've been busy," he said, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.
Sophia straightened, meeting his eyes without hesitation. "Just trying to understand what I've gotten myself into," she replied, her tone even.
Dante chuckled, the sound low and almost affectionate. "You're always trying to figure things out, aren't you?" he said, pulling a chair closer to sit across from her. "But sometimes, Sophia, answers come when you stop looking so hard."
Sophia leaned forward, her stubborn streak kicking in. "You mean when I stop asking questions you don't want to answer?"
Dante smirked, shaking his head. "I didn't say that. But if you're asking about the photograph, I was going to tell you."
She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. "When? After it was too late for me to do anything about it?"
His expression softened. "You're smarter than that, Sophia. I know you wouldn't sit still if you thought I was working with someone like Allegri. That's why I didn't hide it from you."
Sophia hesitated, her resolve wavering at the sincerity in his tone. "So, what is it, then? Why are you meeting with Allegri?"
Dante leaned back in his chair, his expression turning serious. "Matteo Savino is playing a dangerous game. He's aligned himself with Allegri, and I need to know what they're planning. That meeting wasn't an alliance—it was a warning. I wanted Allegri to know what would happen if he crossed into my territory."
Sophia studied him, searching for any sign of deceit. "And you expect me to believe that?"
Dante's gaze didn't waver. "I don't expect anything from you, Sophia. But I'm telling you the truth because I trust you—despite your... original intentions."
Her chest tightened at his words, guilt creeping in at the reminder of why she'd married him in the first place. But before she could respond, the door burst open, and Leo stepped inside, his expression grim.
"Dante, we've got a problem," Leo said, glancing briefly at Sophia before focusing on his friend.
Dante rose to his feet, his calm demeanor shifting into one of sharp focus. "What is it?"
"Allegri's made his move. One of our shipments was intercepted at the docks. Matteo's men are involved, too."
Sophia's eyes widened as she took in Leo's words. The stakes were higher than she'd realized.
Dante turned to her, his voice soft but firm. "Stay here, Sophia. I'll handle this."
"No," she said quickly, rising from her seat. "I can help. I know how to dig for information, Dante. Let me do something."
Dante stepped closer, his hands gently gripping her shoulders. "You've already done more than you should, cara. Let me take care of this."
His words were gentle but final, and Sophia nodded reluctantly. As Dante and Leo left the room, her mind raced with possibilities. She might not take matters into her own hands, but that didn't mean she'd sit idly by.
Sophia turned back to the files on the desk, her determination renewed. If Dante was walking into a trap, she needed to find a way to uncover it before it was too late.
Sophia worked tirelessly through the night, her fingers deftly flipping through files and typing out notes on her laptop. Every piece of information she uncovered painted a clearer picture of Allegri's operations. His network was vast, his influence reaching far beyond what she'd anticipated. She couldn't help but wonder if Dante had underestimated the arms dealer—or if he was keeping more from her than he let on.
Her phone buzzed, breaking her concentration. She glanced at the screen: Unknown Number. Hesitant, she answered.
"Sophia Russo," a cold, gravelly voice greeted her.
Her breath caught. "Who is this?"
"Let's just say I'm someone who knows the danger you're in. Allegri doesn't take kindly to people meddling in his affairs, and you've caught his attention."
Sophia's heart pounded, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "Why are you telling me this?"
The voice chuckled. "Because you're not the only one who wants to see Allegri taken down. Be careful, Sophia. You're in deeper than you realize."
The line went dead.
Sophia stared at her phone, her mind racing. Who was the caller? And why warn her now?
Before she could dwell on it further, the door creaked open, and Dante walked in. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loose, and there was a weariness in his eyes she hadn't seen before.
"Dante," she said, standing quickly. "What happened?"
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, his steps deliberate as he crossed the room. "We managed to recover the shipment, but it wasn't without casualties. Allegri's men left a message—they want a war."
Sophia swallowed hard. "And what are you going to do?"
Dante leaned against the edge of the desk, his gaze piercing. "What I have to. This isn't just about business anymore. Allegri's made it personal."
She hesitated, the memory of the mysterious phone call weighing on her. "Dante… someone called me tonight. They warned me that Allegri knows I've been digging into him."
Dante's jaw tightened, and he straightened, his protective instincts kicking in. "What exactly did they say?"
Sophia recounted the conversation, watching as Dante's expression darkened.
"This is why I wanted you to stay out of it," he said, his voice low but firm. "Allegri doesn't play games, Sophia. He's a predator, and now you're on his radar."
"I wasn't going to sit back and do nothing," she shot back, her stubbornness flaring. "If I can help—"
Dante cut her off, his hands gently gripping her arms. "I know you're trying to help, cara, but this isn't your fight. I won't let him hurt you."
His touch was warm, his tone softer now, and Sophia felt her resolve waver.
"I don't need protecting," she whispered, but even she didn't believe her own words.
Dante's lips curved into a faint smile. "Maybe not, but you're getting it anyway."
He pulled her into a gentle embrace, his chin resting lightly on her head. Sophia didn't resist, her tension melting under his warmth.
After a moment, he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "Promise me you'll stay here while I deal with Allegri. Just this once, let me take care of things."
Sophia hesitated, torn between her instincts and his sincerity. Finally, she nodded. "Fine. But you'll tell me everything—no more secrets."
Dante smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "No more secrets."
As he left the room, Sophia sank back into her chair, her mind still spinning. No matter what promises Dante made, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were both walking a dangerous line.
And she wasn't sure how much longer she could stay out of it.
Sophia couldn't sleep. Even though she'd promised Dante she'd stay out of it, her restless mind wouldn't allow her to sit idle. The warning call, Allegri's looming threat, Dante's weariness—it all pointed to one thing: the situation was spiraling. She glanced at the files strewn across the desk, her fingers twitching.
She needed answers, and there was one place she could find them.
The Savino family had always been on the periphery of her investigation. Smaller than the Morettis but equally dangerous, they had dealings with Allegri, often acting as middlemen for his operations. If anyone could confirm Allegri's next move, it was them.
Sophia hesitated, her hand hovering over her phone. Don't take decisions into your own hands, Dante's voice echoed in her mind. But this wasn't a decision—this was survival. She dialed a number she hadn't used in years, one she'd saved for emergencies.
"Vincent Savino speaking," the voice on the other end answered coolly.
"Vincent, it's Sophia Russo."
A pause. Then a low chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd come sniffing around again. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I need information," she said, cutting straight to the point. "About Stefano Allegri."
Vincent hummed, intrigued. "That's a dangerous name to throw around. What makes you think I'd help you?"
"You owe me," Sophia said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.
Vincent chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "Fair enough. Meet me at the old pier in an hour. Come alone."
Sophia's heart raced, but she agreed. She scribbled a quick note for Dante—Gone for air. Be back soon.—and grabbed her coat.
The pier was deserted, the faint glow of moonlight reflecting off the water. Sophia wrapped her coat tighter around herself as she stepped onto the creaking wooden planks. Vincent stood at the edge, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"You're brave, I'll give you that," he said as she approached.
"Cut the small talk," Sophia replied. "What do you know about Allegri's plans?"
Vincent raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her boldness. "Word is, he's planning something big. A shipment coming in—arms, of course. But that's not the real kicker."
Sophia crossed her arms, urging him to continue.
"Allegri's looking to make an example of someone. And from what I hear, he's got his sights set on your dear husband."
Sophia's stomach twisted. "Why?"
"Dante's been interfering with his operations for years. Allegri's finally had enough. He's planning to lure him into a trap."
Sophia's mind raced. This wasn't just about a shipment—it was a setup. "When and where?"
Vincent smirked, clearly enjoying her desperation. "That, I don't know. But if I were you, I'd keep Dante close. Allegri doesn't leave loose ends."
Sophia clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to lash out. "Thanks for nothing," she muttered, turning to leave.
"Careful, Sophia," Vincent called after her. "You're playing a dangerous game. Don't get caught in the crossfire."
Back at the house, Dante was waiting for her in the living room, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
"Where were you?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern.
"Out," Sophia replied, trying to brush past him.
Dante stepped in front of her, his sharp gaze pinning her in place. "Try again."
Sophia sighed, knowing she couldn't lie to him. "I met with Vincent Savino."
Dante's jaw tightened, but he remained composed. "And?"
"And Allegri's planning something big," she said. "He's targeting you, Dante. He wants to set a trap."
Dante's eyes softened as he reached out to cup her cheek. "You shouldn't have put yourself at risk for this."
"I couldn't just sit here and do nothing," she argued, her voice trembling.
Dante pulled her into his arms, his hand gently stroking her hair. "You're too stubborn for your own good, cara. But I appreciate what you've done."
Sophia pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "What are you going to do?"
Dante's expression darkened. "I'll deal with Allegri. But you're staying out of this from now on. Do you understand me?"
Sophia hesitated, then nodded. "Just… be careful."
Dante's lips curved into a faint smile. "I always am."
As he turned to leave, Sophia called after him. "Dante… promise me you'll come back."
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes softening. "I promise."
But as he walked out the door, Sophia couldn't shake the feeling that this was a promise he might not be able to keep.