Going to hell
1360 Words
Sophia POV
Her father followed behind her, and she could feel his anger simmering underneath the surface.
“Come on, let’s go.” He gestured towards the door. “I’m getting you out of here. Screw this deal. You’re my principessa, and I’m not leaving you in the hands of these…savages!” He spat.
“Papa, calm down,” Sophia said, taking his hands in her and giving him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances.
“It will mean war. The other families will not take lightly to you not keeping your promises. I’ll be alright, really. Te lo prometto” (I promise)
His eyes searched her face and Sophia could see the conflict behind his own. His stormy grey eyes were so much like her own.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He’d apologized a million times, but it didn’t change the outcome.
“I understand that sometimes, we do things we regret later. But you taught me well papa, between your weapon training and Ellie’s sharp tongue, I think I’m going to be just fine,” Sophia said with a soft smile.
He looked at her as if he were thinking of throwing her over his shoulder and running out, but then, after a moment of pause, he nodded.
“I love you, mia figlia,” Matteo said, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. Sophia closed her eyes for a moment, basking in her father’s love. Even though deep down she was angry with him, she did still love him with all her heart. (my daughter)
“Give Nico and Madeline my love, and tell Ellie that I’ll stop by soon,” she said, referring to her fourteen year old brother and her twelve year old sister. It was also for them that Sohpia was doing this. Family meant everything to her.
“I will. Be safe.” Matteo said, hugging her warmly. “I hid a gun in your luggage, just in case,” He murmured in her ear. A smile tugged at her lips. Typical papa.
“Ti voglio bene, papa” She smiled. (I love you, daddy)
Ti voglio bene, mi principessa,” (I love you, my princess).
Watching her father drive away without her was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Their eyes met one last time before he put the car in reverse, and she had to swallow the lump forming in her throat. But she quickly pulled herself together.
They weren’t going to break her.
With a final exhale, she turned on her heel and strode back inside.
She needed to find Alessandro. She needed to know exactly where they stood.
Heading toward the only room in the house she had been in so far—the office—she suddenly heard hushed voices coming from what sounded like the living room.
“I don’t like this. Why is this happening?” A female voice, barely holding back a sob.
Sophia paused mid-step.
“Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay. It’s just for show, that’s all.” Alessandro said.
Her grip on her purse tightened.
“Please tell me you won’t touch her. Promise me, Alessandro, promise me you won’t touch her.”
Sophia’s jaw clenched.
“I won’t.” His voice was firm. “She’s not even my type. She’s… ugly.”
Ugly.
Oh, hell no.
Sophia snorted—loudly—before shoving the door open.
“Oh, please,” she sneered, crossing her arms as she stepped into the room. “I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last man on earth. And let’s not forget—you’ve married above your league, so don’t act like you have any room to talk.”
Alessandro stiffened, standing from the couch. His handsome face—yes, he was handsome, but that was beside the point—contorted with irritation. Clearly, Mr. Mafia Boss wasn’t used to being challenged.
“Well, if you’re so out of my league, why are you even here?” he snapped.
She tilted her head. “Oh, you know, contracts and power-hungry old men who don’t believe in freedom of choice.” She threw a pointed look at him. “Not that I’d expect you to understand.”
His eyes darkened. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know enough,” she countered.
“Enough!”
The sharp voice sent a cold wave through the room.
Domenico.
Sophia turned just as the far door burst open. Domenico Ricci stormed in, his face twisted in pure disgust as his gaze locked onto Gina.
“What the hell is she doing here?” he spat.
The girlfriend—mistress? Ex-mistress? Whatever she was—froze, eyes darting between father and son.
“I thought I told you to end it,” Domenico barked.
Alessandro’s jaw flexed. “And I thought I told you to stay out of my personal life. It’s bad enough you forced me to marry this—” he snapped his mouth shut before the insult fully landed, but Sophia heard it.
She raised a brow. “Go on, dear husband. What exactly am I?”
Alessandro’s fists clenched, but before he could respond, Domenico spoke again.
“I don’t care what you think, Alessandro,” his father cut in coldly. “You’re married now, and the families expect you to act like it.” His voice was calm, but his next words made Sophia’s stomach drop.
“You’ll be sharing a room.” What?!
Even Alessandro looked momentarily stunned. “No.”
Domenico’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “Yes.”
Sophia folded her arms, masking her own shock with sarcasm. “Well, I guess we should have a system then,” she mused, tapping a finger on her chin. “Maybe we should put a sock on the door when the other has company?”
Alessandro’s head snapped to her, fury flashing in his eyes.
“You’re not bringing anyone into my bed.”
“Oh, but you can?” she shot back.
Domenico chuckled, clearly amused by her defiance. “She’s got a point, son.”
Sophia expected Alessandro to argue, but instead, his father delivered the final blow.
“And if you think I’ll let you humiliate this family by sneaking off to another woman’s bed, you’re mistaken.” He threw Gina a look so dismissive it was almost cruel. “She’ll only ever be a mistress. And any children you have with her? They’ll never be recognized by this family.”
Gina gasped and Alessandro’s entire body stiffened.
“Understood?” Domenico finished smoothly, clearly enjoying Alessandro’s torment. The tension was suffocating. Alessandro’s fingers twitched at his sides, his teeth grinding.
Finally, after what felt like ages, he clipped out, “Fine.”
Domenico nodded smugly and walked out of the room. It wasn’t until they heard the front door slam shut that she turned to Alessandro. She wasn’t done.
“Well?” She asked him expectantly. “Is someone going to show me to our room? Or do I need to ask the servants?”
Alessandro’s face was burning with rage. He slowly walked towards her, until he was in front of her.
“It’s the third door on the right.” He grated out, his face so close to hers, she could feel his hot breath on her skin. “Don’t touch my stuff and stay away from my side of the bed. Or you won’t like what I’ll do to you,”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that I won’t like it. I prefer men who don’t throw tantrums when they don’t get their way.” Sophia chuckled, causing Alessandro’s eyes to catch fire. But instead of saying more, he stormed off.
“Oh, and Alessandro?” she called after him, smirking as he paused in the doorway.
“My college starts Monday. Hope that won’t be a problem.”
She didn’t wait for a response—just turned on her heel and followed the butler up the stairs.
This marriage was already going to hell.
And she hadn’t even unpacked yet.
- Writer
