Chapter 6 - A Visit from Royalty
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For three days, the black SUVs vanished from Sophia’s street. Adrian had backed off, likely terrified that she would actually execute her threat regarding the Venetian manifests.
Sophia threw herself into her work, using the complex restorations and endless logistical puzzles to keep her mind from drifting to the ghost of her relationship. She was surviving on black coffee, pure adrenaline, and an absolute refusal to break.
On Thursday afternoon, the bell above the main entrance of her gallery chimed.
Sophia was at the reception desk, signing for a delivery of specialized solvents. She looked up, expecting a courier.
Instead, Valentina Russo walked through the doors.
She wasn't wearing an oversized men's shirt today. Valentina was dressed in a stunning, impeccably tailored scarlet trench coat, designer sunglasses, and stilettos that clicked ominously against the hardwood floor. She looked every inch the mafia royalty she was born to be.
Two massive men in dark suits flanked her, their eyes sweeping the gallery with practiced paranoia.
“Wait outside,” Valentina ordered her guards, her voice carrying a thick, aristocratic command.
The men hesitated, glancing at Sophia, but eventually nodded and stepped back out onto the Chelsea sidewalk.
Valentina removed her sunglasses, slipping them into her designer bag. She looked at Sophia with dark, assessing eyes. There was no immediate hostility, but rather a cold, intense curiosity.
“Miss Bennett,” Valentina said smoothly, walking toward the desk.
“Miss Russo,” Sophia replied, keeping her voice perfectly level. “If you’re here to buy a painting, you’ll need to make an appointment. If you’re here to mark your territory, you’re wasting your time. I already threw him out.”
Valentina let out a short, genuine laugh. It was a dark, melodic sound.
“I am not here to mark territory over a man who lied to both of us,” Valentina said, stopping a few feet away. “I am here because your little stunt at the penthouse created a massive problem for my family.”
“Your fiancé’s infidelity is a problem for your family,” Sophia corrected. “I was merely collateral damage.”
“In my world, there is no collateral damage. There are only liabilities,” Valentina said, her expression hardening. “Adrian was supposed to be a clean alliance. Now, my father knows he has been harboring a civilian mistress for four years. It makes Adrian look weak. It makes my family look like fools for not knowing.”
“And how is that my concern?”
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Valentina leaned forward, resting her manicured hands on the reception desk.
“My brother, Dante, is in New York,” Valentina whispered, her eyes dark with warning. “He is not a reasonable man, Sophia. He views your existence as an insult to our family’s honor. I came here to tell you to run. Because Adrian cannot protect you from my brother.”
