23 - Girl talk
1614 Words
Sofia
Before I can shrink into myself, Luca’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently.
“She’ll have whatever she wants,” he says, voice low but firm.
Dray scoffs. “If she wanted something, she’d say it.”
He knows damn well that I wouldn’t. I know how these things work, and I won’t be foolish enough to fall into his trap.
Luca’s eyes darken. “Sofia doesn’t have to say it tonight. Don’t start tonight, Dray.”
Dray rolls his neck as if rolling away the tension.
The table goes quiet again.
Then Marnie smiles warmly at me. “You take your time, sweetheart. There’s no rush.”
I nod, grateful.
But inside, I know the truth.
There is a rush.
There is a plan.
And I am a piece on a board I don’t control.
Still… when Luca looks at me, I feel something I’ve never felt before.
Hope.
When the meal ends, and everyone drifts into smaller conversations, Luca guides me toward the hallway.
“You did great,” he says softly.
“I barely spoke.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I look up at him. “What did you mean?”
“You held your own,” he says. “You didn’t let them scare you.”
I let out a shaky breath. “They did scare me, Luca. Those men are huge!”
“I know.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “But you stayed. That matters.”
I swallow hard. “Luca… I don’t know how to be part of a family like this.”
He smiles gently. “You don’t have to know. You just have to let me help you.”
My heart flutters.
For the first time in my life, I believe someone means those words.
From behind us, the room shifts like someone had given an unspoken signal.
The men rise first — chairs scraping, voices deepening, laughter turning rougher. The hallway suddenly fills with people. The Don claps Luca and Dray on the shoulders, gesturing for them to follow. Hammer, Jett, Ghost, Tank, Toby, Marco, and the older boys drift toward the study, their footsteps heavy and sure.
Luca takes my face in his hands. “I won’t be long, sweetheart. Go with my mother and the other women, and I’ll come for you in a while.” He kisses my forehead and follows the others. The study door closes behind him with a finality that makes my stomach twist.
Powerful men.
Dangerous men.
Men who decide the fate of families with a single conversation.
And Luca is among them.
I try not to think about what they’re discussing. I try not to imagine my father’s name on their lips.
But it’s inevitable, isn’t it?
I’m not as stupid as people might think. I haven’t been here long, but I’ve heard whispers here and there. I’ve put two and two together, and I don’t think my father will be alive much longer. The Don wants something from Papa, and he won’t stop until he gets it.
But where do I come into this?
Why allow me to marry his son?
I don’t get it, but I’ll figure it out.
The women gather around me before I can slip away.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Willow says warmly, looping her arm through mine. “We always talk weddings after dinner.”
My heart thuds. “Oh… I—”
“It’s tradition,” Maria adds with a grin. “You’re one of us now.”
One of us.
The words feel too big, too heavy, too hopeful.
I follow them into the living room — a wide, elegant space with plush sofas, soft lighting, and a fireplace crackling gently. The atmosphere is completely different from the dining hall. Warmer. Softer. Almost safe.
Almost.
The women settle into various spots, chatting easily. I perch on the edge of a sofa cushion, hands folded tightly in my lap. Lorna sits beside me, the only thing keeping me grounded.
“Don’t worry.” She whispers. “You’re doing fine.”
I smile gratefully.
Willow sits on the other side of me. “You okay, honey?”
I nod. “Just… overwhelmed.”
“That’s normal,” Kyla says, bouncing CJ on her knee. “My first family dinner? I nearly fainted, and I was used to them all!”
Greer giggles. “She did faint.”
“I did not,” Kyla protests, laughing. “I just… sat down very fast.”
The room erupts in laughter.
I smile, small but real.
“So,” Lydia says, leaning forward eagerly. “Tell us what you’re thinking for the wedding.”
My throat tightens. “I… don’t really know.”
What am I supposed to say?
I know I’m not going to get any say in this wedding. It will all be arranged for me. I’ll be lucky if I even get to pick my dress!
What am I talking about?
That’s being designed for me. But I do hope Avery gives me a say in what I want. I don’t really care about anything else, but my dress should be special.
That’s not too much to ask, right?
“That’s okay,” Ember says. “We can help you figure it out.”
“What colors do you like?” Aya asks.
“What style of dress?” Hilly adds.
I lift my hands slightly, overwhelmed. “I… I’m not sure I’ll get to choose.”
The room goes quiet.
Avery exchanges a look with Willow.
Kyla’s smile softens.
Maria’s eyes narrow — not at me, but at the idea.
“Sweetheart,” Marnie says gently. “You do get to choose. This is your wedding day, my son. I won’t allow anyone to take over. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”
Lorna strokes my back as I whisper, “I know my place.”
Silence falls again — but this time, it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s heavy. Protective.
Marnie reaches over and takes my hand. “Your place is beside Luca. Not beneath him.”
Brooke nods enthusiastically. “Luca loves you.”
My cheeks warm. “He doesn’t… love me.”
“Not yet,” Willow says with a knowing smile. “But he will.”
Kyla leans forward. “And even if he didn’t, you’d still get a say. We don’t let our men steamroll us.”
Nova snorts. “They try. They fail.”
The women laugh again, but I can’t join them. Not fully.
Because my father had never let me choose anything.
Because Dray’s tests taught me obedience, not freedom.
Because the Don’s plans don’t include my voice.
I look down at my hands. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“You won’t,” Ember says. “You’re family now.”
Family.
The word feels foreign. Fragile. Dangerous.
Willow shifts closer. “Can I ask you something, Sofia?”
I nod.
“What do you want? Not for the wedding. For your life.”
No one has ever asked me that.
Not once.
I don’t know what I can or can’t say. These women could be tricking me, trying to get me to drop my guard so they can report back to the Don. I know how these things work. I’ve been through this so many times with my father. I learned long ago never to put your full trust in anyone because they will only let you down in the end.
“I… I don’t know,” I whisper.
“That’s okay,” Kyla says softly. “You’ll figure it out.”
Maria adds, “And when you do, we’ll help you get it.”
Greer climbs onto the sofa beside me, squeezing in between Willow and me, her small hand slipping into mine. “I think you’re nice,” she says.
My heart cracks open. That meant so much.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I think you’re nice, too.”
Greer giggles.
Laughter booms from down the hall — deep, rough, unmistakably male. The study door opens briefly, and I hear the Don’s voice, low and commanding, followed by Luca’s quieter reply.
I stiffen.
Willow notices. “They’re just talking business. Nothing for you to worry about.”
But I am worried.
Because business means alliances.
Alliances mean betrayal.
And betrayal means blood.
My father’s blood.
My blood, if things go wrong.
I swallow hard. “Do they… always talk business after dinner?”
“Always,” Maria says. “It’s how they bond.”
“And plot,” Nova adds with a smirk.
“And drink too much,” Ember says.
“And argue,” Lydia chimes in.
“And brag,” Marnie adds.
“And lie,” Avery says with a shrug.
The women laugh again.
But I can’t.
Because I know what men like my father and the Don discuss behind closed doors.
And I know I’m caught in the middle this time.
The conversation drifts to dresses and flowers again, but I stay quiet, letting their voices wash over me. They’re kind. Warm. Protective in a way I’ve never experienced.
But I still feel like an outsider.
A guest.
A pawn.
A girl pretending she belongs.
Then Willow squeezes my hand. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”
I look up at her.
“You don’t have to talk tonight,” she says. “Just listen. Learn. And breathe.”
I nod, grateful.
Because for the first time in my life, surrounded by women who aren’t cruel or jealous or cold, I feel something unfamiliar.
Not safety.
Not yet.
But possibility.
- Writer
