Chapter 4 Shadows of the Past

Don Romano sat behind the desk, folding his hands neatly in front of him. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to.

Sophia knew what was coming.

"You met with Salvatore Moretti," he said, the voice low but sharp, like the crack of a whip. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Her stomach twisted again, but she met his gaze unflinchingly. "I did."

"And to what did you agree?" he pressed, his eyes narrowing. "You think you can make deals with the Morettis without consequences? You think you can play both sides?"

Sophia swallowed, her hands tightening in her lap. She hadn't expected him to react with anything less than fury, but hearing the words out loud made her feel the weight of her decision.

"I didn't make a deal," she said cautiously. "I just listened. He came to me with an offer."

Her father's lips curved into a thin, controlled smile, one that ran a chill down her spine. "An offer?" He leaned forward, his eyes alight with the kind of predatory focus that had made him the most feared man in the city. "Let me make one thing crystal, Sophia. The Morettis are not our allies. They are not the kind of people you 'listen' to. You destroy them. You do not sit and 'talk' to them as with some sort of diplomat".

In Sophia, something inside stirred, threatening a fight. It was an ache inside, to break free from her father's mold, which had hounded her throughout her life. He does not understand, she told herself, and he never will.

"Then maybe I'm tired of the same old war," she said, her voice hardening. "Maybe I'm tired of being a pawn in this endless cycle of bloodshed and violence."

Don Romano's eyes hardened, darkening with an intensity that only came from watching the few who dared defy him crumble. "You think you can just walk away from this, Sophia? You think you can choose your own path and not face the consequences?"

Sophia didn't say a word. She didn't need to. She knew all too well what her father was capable of. He would never let her break loose from the chain of loyalty binding her to him, to the family, to the empire he had built.

"Do you really think Salvatore Moretti will let you walk away?" he continued, his voice colder now. "He's a snake, Sophia. They all are. The Morettis never give anything for free. If you're not careful, he'll have you wrapped around his finger before you know it."

Sophia met her father's gaze, her eyes unwavering. "Maybe I don't mind being wrapped around his finger."

Her words seemed to hang in the air, a challenge, and for the first time her father's face faltered. For a second, a flicker of something near to disbelief, before a simmering anger replaced it, so well known to her.

Don Romano stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor, and paced around the room. "You don't understand, Sophia. The Morettis are the enemy. They are nothing but vultures circling our family, waiting for a moment of weakness."

"And maybe we're no different," she shot back, her voice sharp, almost biting. "Maybe we've been circling each other for too long, and it's time to end it."

Her father's face turned beet red, his anger almost tangible. "You are my daughter, Sophia," he snarled, taking another step closer, his eyes ablaze with anger. "And you will not betray me. Not now. Not ever."

The weight of his words hit Sophia like a blow. She had always been the good daughter, the loyal daughter. But in that moment, standing there before him, she realized just how much she had already betrayed him.

Her life-her loyalty-had always been a currency to be traded. A tool.

But now, for the first time, she saw an out. A chance to rewrite her story, to take back her narrative. Even if it meant turning her back on everything she knew.

"I haven't betrayed you, Father," she said in quiet tones, unafraid. "But I just can't be what you want me to be any longer."

Don Romano's eyes scanned hers for any sign of weakness. There was none. And in that silent moment, they both heard something unsaid.

The choice had been made.

The door to the study crashed shut behind her as she strode out. She didn't look back.

Out in the cold night air, the rain had stopped. The wet streets glistened in the streetlights as if the city was holding its breath. Tonight, she knew she had stepped over the line, and consequences would follow fast.

Still, for the first time in her life, Sophia glimpsed something else: a maybe.

And she wasn't sure what came next, but for the first time, she didn't care.

The game had changed.

The night air was crisp, carrying the scents through Little Italy as Sophia wandered the streets, her head a turmoil of thoughts and emotions. Her father's words echoed in her ear, but she shut them out. She had chosen. It was done. She could feel the weight now of the path she chose, but there was no turning back. Her father's empire, the life she had been born into, was a cage. And now she was free-or at least, she hoped she would be.

She knew her father. She knew the way he worked. He would never let this go. He would come for her, relentless and unforgiving. And yet, even with that knowledge, she didn't feel any fear. Instead, there was something else, something powerful, a sense of clarity she had never experienced before.

Salvatore Moretti had offered her a way out. He had offered her something different. Not power, not wealth, but a chance to live on her own terms. And that, more than anything else, was worth the risk.

As she rounded the corner, approaching the Moretti compound, she could feel it in the air, like an electric charge waiting to be unleashed. It was one thing to agree to a partnership, to entertain the idea of an alliance, but it was another thing entirely to walk into the belly of the beast.