Chapter 6 The Predator's Test

Sofia excused herself from a conversation about charity fundraising with the Benedetto wives and made her way toward the ladies' room, grateful for a few minutes away from the constant performance of being Lucia Castellano. The engagement party was going well-perhaps too well. Every smile felt more genuine, every laugh less forced, and every moment with Dante made it harder to remember that she was here to destroy his family.

The hotel's powder room was empty except for an attendant who discreetly withdrew when Sofia entered. She touched up her lipstick in the ornate mirror, using the mundane task to center herself and review the intelligence she'd gathered. The Romano-Castellano alliance would control drug trafficking from South America, weapons smuggling through European connections, and political corruption reaching into the highest levels of government.

It was exactly the kind of evidence the FBI needed to bring down both families.

So why did the thought of succeeding make her feel sick?

The powder room door opened behind her, and Sofia glanced in the mirror expecting to see another guest. Instead, she saw Marco Romano-Dante's younger brother, Vincent's second son, and according to FBI files, a psychopath who enjoyed inflicting pain.

"Miss Castellano," Marco said smoothly, stepping into the room and turning the lock behind him. "I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk privately."

Sofia's blood turned to ice, but she kept her expression calm. At thirty, Marco had the same dark Romano features as his brother, but where Dante's eyes showed intelligence and restrained violence, Marco's revealed something much more dangerous-a complete lack of empathy.

"Mr. Romano," Sofia said politely, turning to face him while calculating distances to the emergency alarm and the door. "I was just freshening up before rejoining the party."

"Please, call me Marco. We're going to be family, after all." He moved closer, and Sofia caught the scent of expensive cologne mixed with something else-the metallic smell of recently spilled blood. "I wanted to welcome you personally to our little organization."

"That's very kind of you." Sofia smiled graciously while her mind raced through defensive options. She was wearing heels, a restrictive dress, and had no weapons except her wits and three years of FBI combat training. Marco was bigger, stronger, and according to intelligence reports, had killed seventeen people with his bare hands.

"You know," Marco said conversationally, moving to block her path to the door, "I've been looking forward to meeting Roberto Castellano's mysterious niece. Especially after hearing how impressed my brother is with your... European sophistication."

The way he said 'European sophistication' made Sofia's skin crawl. "Your brother has been very welcoming. Your whole family has."

"Have we? How wonderful." Marco's smile revealed perfectly white teeth that somehow looked predatory. "Tell me, Lucia, what do you really think of our family business?"

"I think your family has built something impressive through generations of hard work and dedication." Sofia kept her voice steady while slowly shifting her weight to her back foot, preparing for whatever was coming.

"Hard work. Yes, that's one way to describe it." Marco laughed softly. "Another way would be to say we've built our empire on blood, terror, and the willingness to do things that would make normal people vomit."

Sofia forced herself to look confused rather than terrified. "I'm not sure I understand what you're trying to tell me."

"I'm trying to tell you that this isn't the legitimate business world you're used to, princess. This is a world where weakness gets you killed, and pretty faces don't protect you from ugly realities."

Marco stepped closer, backing Sofia against the marble vanity. She could feel the cold stone against her spine and smell the alcohol on his breath. More importantly, she could see the bulge of a shoulder holster beneath his tuxedo jacket.

"For instance," Marco continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "did you know that last week I personally tortured a man for six hours because he tried to skim money from our poker games? Would you like to know what I did to him?"

"No," Sofia whispered, letting genuine fear color her voice. A sheltered mafia princess would be horrified by Marco's casual discussion of torture. "Please, I don't want to hear about that."

"But you need to hear about it," Marco insisted, placing his hands on the vanity on either side of her, trapping her against the marble. "Because if you're going to be part of this family, you need to understand what we're capable of when people betray us."

Sofia's FBI training screamed at her to strike-a knee to the groin, fingers to the eyes, break his nose with an elbow strike. But Lucia Castellano wouldn't know how to fight, and using her real skills would blow her cover instantly.

"Marco, you're scaring me," she said instead, her voice shaking with very real fear. "What do you want?"

"I want to know who you really are." Marco's face was inches from hers now, his eyes studying every micro-expression. "Because my brother might be impressed by your pretty manners and European education, but I can smell lies like other people smell perfume."

Sofia's heart hammered against her ribs. "I don't know what you think I'm lying about-"

"Everything." Marco's hand moved to her throat, not quite touching but close enough to feel his body heat. "Your story is too perfect, your manners too polished, your reactions too controlled. Real people have flaws, inconsistencies, rough edges. You're like a character someone created for a role."

The accuracy of his observation was terrifying, but Sofia forced herself to channel indignation rather than panic. "How dare you! I'm a guest in your family's home, engaged to your brother, and you're treating me like-"

"Like a potential threat to everything we've built." Marco's thumb brushed against her pulse point, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. "Because that's exactly what you are if you're not who you claim to be."

Sofia realized with crystalline clarity that she was about to die. Marco Romano suspected her true identity, and men like him didn't leave potential threats alive to be dealt with later. She had perhaps thirty seconds before he escalated from intimidation to violence.

"Please," she whispered, letting tears fill her eyes while her mind calculated angles and leverage points. "I don't understand what you want from me. I'm exactly who I said I am-"

"Prove it." Marco's grip tightened slightly on her throat. "Tell me something about your childhood that only Roberto Castellano's real niece would know. Something personal, intimate, that couldn't be found in any file."

Sofia's mind raced through the carefully constructed backstory the FBI had created, searching for details that would satisfy Marco's suspicion. But she realized with growing horror that no amount of fictional biography would convince him-he was testing her emotional reactions as much as her knowledge.

"When I was twelve," Sofia said desperately, drawing on real memories of her own childhood, "my parents took me to see La Traviata at the Metropolitan Opera. It was my first time in America, and I cried during the final act because I didn't understand why everyone had to die. Uncle Roberto told me that sometimes people destroy themselves for love, and that was the most dangerous kind of destruction because it feels beautiful while it's happening."

Marco's eyes narrowed as he processed this information, clearly trying to determine if it was genuine memory or skillful fabrication. Sofia held her breath, knowing that her life depended on his next words.

"Interesting story," Marco said finally. "The question is whether it's true, or whether you're just good at creating convincing lies."

Before Sofia could respond, the powder room door rattled as someone tried the handle. "Lucia? Are you in there?" Dante's voice carried concern and barely controlled anger.

Marco stepped back from Sofia so quickly that she nearly stumbled. "Just having a friendly conversation with my future sister-in-law," he called out, but his eyes never left Sofia's face. "Getting to know each other better."

The door handle turned more forcefully, and Sofia realized that Dante was probably picking the lock. Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Dante Romano in full protective mode-his face dark with fury, his hand inside his jacket where she knew he carried his weapon.

"Is there a problem here?" Dante's voice was deadly quiet as he took in the scene: Sofia pressed against the vanity looking shaken, Marco standing too close with predatory satisfaction in his eyes.

"No problem at all," Marco replied smoothly. "Lucia and I were just discussing family expectations. Weren't we, princess?"

Sofia nodded mutely, not trusting her voice. She could see the violence building in Dante's expression and realized that the Romano brothers were seconds away from a confrontation that could end with one of them dead.

"Marco," Dante said carefully, "I think you should return to the party. Papa is looking for you."

"I'm sure he is." Marco adjusted his tuxedo jacket and smiled at Sofia one final time. "Thank you for the enlightening conversation, Lucia. I look forward to continuing our discussion after you've joined the family permanently."

The threat was unmistakable. Marco Romano wasn't finished with her-he was simply postponing his investigation until she was more vulnerable.

As Marco left the powder room, Dante immediately moved to Sofia's side. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," Sofia managed, accepting the handkerchief he offered to wipe her eyes. "He just... asked a lot of personal questions. Very intense personal questions."

Dante's jaw tightened. "Marco can be... overly protective of family interests. He doesn't trust easily."

"Does he suspect something specific, or is this how he treats all potential new family members?"

"Both." Dante helped her straighten her dress and fix her hair with surprising gentleness. "Marco believes everyone is lying about something, and he's usually right. The question is whether your lies are the dangerous kind."

Sofia looked up at him, startled by his bluntness. "You think I'm lying too?"

"Everyone lies, Lucia. About their past, their feelings, their motivations." Dante's eyes were serious but not unkind. "The question isn't whether you're lying-it's whether you're lying about things that matter."

Sofia felt a stab of something that might have been guilt or longing. Here was Dante Romano, acknowledging that he expected deception while still choosing to trust her. It was more honesty than she deserved and more complicated than her mission could handle.

"Are you lying about things that matter?" she asked quietly.

Dante smiled, and for a moment he looked younger, less burdened by the weight of family expectations. "Probably. But I'm hoping we'll eventually trust each other enough for the truth."

If only he knew how impossible that was.

"Come on," Dante said, offering her his arm. "Let's get back to the party before people start wondering what happened to the happy couple."

As they walked back toward the ballroom, Sofia tried to process what had just occurred. Marco Romano suspected her identity and would undoubtedly continue investigating until he found proof of her deception. She had perhaps days, maybe hours, before her cover was blown.

But the most disturbing realization wasn't about the immediate danger to her mission-it was about her growing feelings for Dante Romano. His protective instincts, his willingness to trust her despite his suspicions, his desire to change his family's violent traditions... these weren't the qualities of a man she could betray without destroying something inside herself.

Sofia Martinez had spent three years hunting criminals without ever questioning the moral complexity of her work. But as Lucia Castellano smiled and accepted congratulations on her engagement, she realized that some deceptions were more dangerous to the deceiver than to the target.

She was falling in love with the man she was supposed to destroy.

And that was going to get them both killed.