Bound By Blood

Chapter 9: The Push and Pull

(Sophia’s POV)

That night, Sophia found herself pacing in her room, unable to calm the storm of emotions inside her. Luca’s kiss still lingered on her lips, soft and sweet, like a promise. She could hear his footsteps outside her door, standing guard like he said he would. She could open the door, invite him in, let herself get lost in his warmth.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her thoughts kept drifting to Marco—his sharp words, the way he commanded a room without saying much at all. The way he made her pulse quicken, even when she wanted to hate him.

Her hand hovered over the door handle, the temptation to run to Luca growing stronger. But as her fingers brushed the cool metal, she stopped. She didn’t know what was stopping her exactly—whether it was the fear of getting too close to Luca, or the strange, inexplicable pull she felt toward Marco.

The conflict inside her was maddening. She wanted to feel safe, to escape the dangerous world she had found herself in. But part of her wondered if Marco’s darkness was the very thing she was drawn to. The way he seemed to be a living embodiment of the mafia life she was trying to navigate—dangerous, unpredictable, and thrilling.

Frustrated with herself, Sophia moved away from the door and threw herself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her life had changed so drastically in such a short time. Just a few weeks ago, she had been a girl trying to escape her past. Now, she was caught between two brothers in a world that could very easily destroy her.

She didn’t have long to dwell on her thoughts before the door creaked open. Her breath caught in her throat, expecting Luca. But instead, Marco stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and commanding. There was no warmth in his tone, only the sharp edge she had come to expect from him.

Sophia sat up, her heart pounding. “About what?”

Marco took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. “About you being here. And what that means.”

She frowned, crossing her arms defensively. “What do you mean? I thought I was under your protection.”

“You are,” Marco said, his voice hardening. “But this isn’t a game, Sophia. The Rossettis are getting bolder. They’ll come for you. And when they do, I need to know that you’re not going to do something stupid.”

Sophia bristled at his words, her defiance rising to the surface. “I’m not some helpless girl, Marco.”

His eyes flashed, and in an instant, he was in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. His hand gripped her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “You are to me,” he said, his voice a dangerous whisper.

Sophia’s pulse raced as his grip tightened slightly, his proximity making it hard to think clearly. She should push him away, tell him to back off. But the fire in his eyes—the intensity of his touch—sent a thrill through her that she couldn’t ignore.

Marco’s eyes flickered down to her lips, and for a brief moment, she thought he might kiss her. But then, as quickly as he had grabbed her, he let go, stepping back with a look of frustration.

“Stay out of my way,” he muttered before turning and leaving her alone once again.

Sophia sat there, her heart hammering in her chest, confused and shaken by the encounter. But one thing was clear—no matter how hard she tried, she was getting deeper into the Bellini brothers’ world.