Chapter 12
“You spend so much time being Don Raineri that sometimes I wonder whether Dominic gets lonely.”
His expression changed.
Few people asked him questions like that.
Fewer survived his silence afterward without becoming nervous.
Sophia simply waited.
“Yes,” he finally said.
Her smile faded.
“Yes what?”
“He gets lonely.”
She stood.
“Then maybe he should stop hiding too.”
Dominic looked at her for a long moment.
“You’re dangerous.”
“You noticed late.”
“Three years too late.”
Sophia moved closer.
“No.”
She touched his face.
“You noticed exactly when I needed someone to see me.”
He kissed her forehead.
“I noticed long before that.”
She pulled back.
“What?”
Dominic looked almost uncomfortable.
Sophia’s mouth fell open.
“How long?”
He sighed.
“Sophia.”
“How long?”
“The first Caruso charity gala.”
“That was four years ago.”
“I’m aware.”
“I was wearing that awful green dress.”
“You were wearing red heels.”
Sophia stared.
Dominic realized his mistake.
Her expression slowly became delighted.
“You remember my shoes.”
“Forget I said anything.”
“You remembered my shoes for four years?”
“Sophia.”
She started laughing.
Dominic attempted to look stern.
Failed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“For a terrifying criminal mastermind, you’re adorable.”
“Never say that publicly.”
“I’m telling Michael.”
“I will fire him for hearing it.”
She kissed him.
For the first time, neither of them was running from anyone.
Six months later, spring came to Chicago.
Sophia reopened the event design company she had quietly allowed Anthony to control.
She renamed it Hart & Ivory after her grandmother’s maiden name.
Within three months, she landed two hotel contracts without help from either family.
When Dominic tried to introduce her to a luxury developer, she narrowed her eyes.
“Are you interfering?”
“Networking.”
“You’re interfering.”
“Networking elegantly.”
“Dominic.”
He canceled the introduction.
Mostly.
A year after the council meeting, they returned to the Lake Forest estate for another family dinner.
The same dining room.
The same long table.
But Sophia sat beside Dominic now.
Not because he had assigned her a seat.
Because it was where she wanted to sit.
Dessert arrived.
Chocolate cake.
Sophia took a large slice.
Dominic glanced at it.
She immediately narrowed her eyes.
He raised both hands.
“I said nothing.”
“You thought something.”
“I thought you might share.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Cruel.”
“You survived worse.”
Across the table, Vincent Caruso laughed.
He and Sophia were rebuilding carefully.
There were boundaries now.
Apologies that did not demand immediate forgiveness.