Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I won’t play into his game. As much as it hurts me, I turn from him and walk out of his office. I don’t look at his face as I go, but I hope it’s pained. I hope it hurts him as much as it’s hurting me, because he’s put me in a shitty situation.
I walk through the destroyed garage without seeing anything. My eyes are so filled with tears, it’s a miracle I make it out of there without tripping on something. Still, I keep my spine straight and my resolve strong.
Nobody else gets to write my story. Nobody else gets to tell me who I can or can’t be with. Not even my father.
When I walk out of the garage, a town car idles at the curb, waiting for me. My heart breaks with every step I take toward it, but he made this decision, not me. I can only hope he’ll come to his senses soon. As angry as I am, I truly don’t want my child to grow up without their grandfather.
Once I’m in the car, the tears start to fall, and they don’t stop.
22
DOMINIC
I’m pacing the entryway of the penthouse when the elevator dings and Sofia walks through it, face blotchy with tears. I barely have a chance to ask her what’s wrong before she throws herself into my arms.
It feels like coming home. We’ve never been like this before. She’s never turned to me just for comfort. I hold her loosely at first, afraid I might scare her off. But as she clings to my shirt, I tighten my arms around her, gently rubbing her back while she sobs against me. I don’t know what made her so upset, but I’m sure as hell going to find out, and punish whoever made her cry.
I lead her into the living room, where we sink onto the plush couch. I don’t spend much time in here, but Chiara insisted we needed a comfortable space to entertain guests.
When she finally sits up and wipes her face, I try to find out what’s wrong. She just shakes her head.
“I don’t want to get into it,” she says.
“Did something happen with your dad?”
She lets out a long, shuddering breath. I’ve hit the nail on the head.
“He doesn’t want to see me again,” she says. “He said as long as I’m associated with you, he wants nothing to do with me.”
I stiffen, anger surging through me.
“He what?” I say as calmly as I can manage. “You’re his daughter, how can he do that?”
She shakes her head. “I told you, Dominic, I don’t want to get into it. He’s just being a stubborn ass. He’ll change his mind once he calms down.”
I stand and look down at her. “What if he doesn’t? Sofia, I’m sorry, but that’s manipulative bullshit. I’m going to talk to him.”
“Dominic, stop!” she shouts, getting up and grabbing my arm. “You’re only going to make him angrier, and that’s the last thing I need. Please just leave it.”
“Sofia, he made you cry.”
She pulls me back down on the couch. “Lots of people have made me cry in my life, Dominic. He’s not the first one and he won’t be the last. If you go down there right now and shout at him, it’s going to prove to him that you’re exactly who he thinks you are.”
I clench my teeth. “I can’t stand for someone to hurt you,” I say quietly. “Not even your father.”
She smiles shyly and slides her hand into mine. “That’s incredibly sweet,” she says. “And part of the reason I walked away. I’m not giving in to his ultimatum. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch, but he won’t be able to stay mad once he knows there’s a little baby out there who shares his DNA. We just have to give him a little time.”
“Okay,” I say reluctantly, even though I’m ready to go down there and tear his garage apart again for making Sofia so upset. “I’ll follow your lead.”
Now that she’s calmer, we decide to go upstairs and have dinner. I tell her I’ll call my chef, Julio, to make us something to eat, but she starts rifling through the refrigerator and pulling out ingredients.
“Have you ever cooked anything in your life?” she asks, smiling at me.
“No,” I admit. “Unless you count toast.”
She laughs. “I definitely do not. I’m going to teach you how to make a stir-fry. It literally could not be easier.”
I give her a skeptical look.
“A monkey could make this, Dominic,” she says seriously. “I think you can handle it. I’ll chop the vegetables because I don’t trust you with a knife.”
“Well, now, knife skills I have,” I tell her.
“Stabbing people and finely chopping vegetables are two completely different skillsets,” she deadpans.
“Fair.” I laugh, and go over to the stove.