Dominic
There are moments when I figuratively want to kill my brother. I was prepared to move on from this job, stow away my emotions, and get back to what needed to be done.
Now I have to have the princess living under my roof.
How can I compartmentalize my feelings for her if she’s constantly there? Not only that, I am practically a glorified babysitter now. Do they know what this will do to my reputation?
I’m the muscle behind the family, not some small-time guard. I execute hits. I make things happen. I don’t help little mafia princesses get to school and back. I’m not a soccer mom.
Not even my own mother was a soccer mom, for fucks sake.
Alessandro comes back downstairs after speaking to Sofia and leads me outside. “Let them say their goodbyes.”
“Alessandro, can I be frank with you?” I ask, clenching my jaw.
“You don’t have to be. I know what you’re going to say, and I overrule it anyway. No one else will give her the protection she needs like you will, Dominic. Besides, It won’t be forever.”
He gazes into my eyes. “Unless you’re not up for this simple task?” “What about my other responsibilities?” I ask.
“I don’t expect you to stay glued to her side. She’ll be safe at any of our houses, and a driver and guards can take her to whatever school she wants. I only expect you to oversee it and keep her at your place.” He smiles. “Besides, she brings out a rather raging side of you. I like it.”
I raise an eyebrow and shake my head. “She doesn’t do anything to me.”
“I’ve never heard you refuse an order before, yet you want to?” he points out, and for the first time in my life, I can feel my cheeks color. “See,” Alessandro puts a hand on my shoulder, “Now, get home and get the doctor to come over and treat you before you get an infection. I’ll expect to see you bright and early tomorrow.”
I sigh and nod. “Okay, I guess there’s no other way out of this.”
“No, there isn’t.” Alessandro almost looks like he’s gleeful, and I hate it. He’s torturing me for amusement. What an asshole.
I smile. “If she has to stay with me, then I will be staying at the estate.” I look at him smugly. “After all, my normal place is too small for the two of us.”
“Your apartment is big enough,” he comments, “but there is more security at the estate. Make the arrangements. See you tomorrow.”
I wave him off and wait out front. Andres comes out and offers me a cigar. I take it, and he lights it.
“Well done,” Andres says. “This is the start of a glorious union.”
“I don’t really care,” I say. “I’m more like a point-and-shoot guy. Point me in the right direction, and I’ll shoot.”
“Ah, but now you get to defend the beautiful Sofia,” Andres grins.
“Not too bad, I bet, getting to watch that gorgeous woman every day.”
I scoff. “She’s a pain in the ass. She’s a real princess who doesn’t know how the world actually works.”
“Most women don’t know what happens in this world,” he agrees with me. “But she’s not stupid and knows more than she’s letting on.”
“I don’t think she’s stupid. I think she’s naive. There’s a difference.” I take a deep drag on my cigar, and a throat clears behind me. I turn to see Sofia looking at me coldly.
“The princess is ready to go now,” she says with an icy voice.
I sigh. Excellent-I’ve managed to piss her off, and now she’s going to be staying with me on the estate.
I nod and hand the half-finished cigar to Andres. “Good luck on your mission.”
“Good luck yourself,” he says quietly. “Because if looks could kill, you’d be dead.”
I shake my head and walk toward the car. I help Sofia get her bags into the trunk, and finally, we climb in. I pull out of the driveway and into traffic, not saying a word.
“I’m not any happier about this arrangement than you are,” she says, spitting with anger, “but don’t underestimate me.”
“I’ve been with you for a few days, Princess. I know what you’re like. You’re probably going to get us all killed,” I snap, irritated that I upset her. I know it doesn’t make sense. Why do I get irritated with her when it’s my fault she’s angry, but I can’t help myself?
She turns away from me, watching the road.
I pull into the driveway of the estate up to the gate a while later. It’s a beautiful, old home in an older suburb of New York but with decent security. The guard at the gate lets us in, and I drive us to the front of the house.
“We’re here,” I comment, wanting to see if she’s still mad.
“No shit.” Yup, she’s still mad.
We climb out, and she slams the car door. I sigh and reach to get her bags, but she tries to shoulder me out the way. It doesn’t really work, but I step away and give her space.
“I can do it myself. Contrary to what you believe, I’m not a princess,” she lifts her bags and carries one in each hand up the stairs leading to the front door.
I reach the door and open it for her. “You can stay in any of the bedrooms on the second floor except the one at the end to the right. That’s mine,” I comment.
“I’ll be taking the one furthest away from yours,” she says, marching up the stairs. I follow slowly and wait until she gets to her room.
She looks at me. “Are you following me for a reason?”
“I need to go grab some things. There are guards here, should you need anything. Otherwise, just stay put. The kitchen is stocked if you’re hungry, and there’s a bar in the entertainment room if you want a drink.”
She moves to close the door, and I stop her. “I mean it, Princess, stay put. My guards won’t let you out, so don’t try them.”
She glares at me and snaps, “Is that all? I’m fucking tired and want to get some sleep.”
I let the door go, and she slams it shut in my face.
God, this is going to be a seriously trying time.
I drive to my apartment and pack three bags with everything I need. I’ve stayed at the estate before on security detail, and it’s mostly got what I need regarding weapons, so it’s just clothes and toiletries that I grab.
I look at myself in the entrance hall mirror and grimace. My eye is still swollen shut, and my face is colorful with different shades of bruises.
I take a moment to relax and take a deep breath in and out until my heart rate is down. I don’t know how I’m going to be around Sofia and not want to get involved with her, but I must stick to my guns.
Besides, her father might not be impressed if I shack up in her bed with her, and that could jeopardize the plan to overthrow Jose, and then my brother will be ordering my execution. Best to keep it business-like and without any complications.
I turn and leave, carrying my bags downstairs and trying to think about anything but Sofia.
Sofia
I unpack my things and arrange the closet since I’m going to be here for a while. I need to have the rest of my stuff from the house sent to this estate so I can be more comfortable. I try to think about anything other than the hurtful words Dominic said. It’s not like he hasn’t said to my face that I’m a naive princess but somehow discussing it with someone I don’t know, who he hardly knows, hurts more.
Once I’m done unpacking, I decide to go downstairs and explore the house, seeing what there will be to do here while I’m alone during the day. Maybe later, I can look at my college applications.
I walk through the vast home, trying to learn my way around. As I finish my little tour, I hear a car pull up and look out the living room window. It’s Dominic.
I trace my steps back to the kitchen and the back door. I don’t feel like looking at him right now.
It’s dark outside, but a spotlight illuminates the garden when I step onto the patio. It’s beautiful with a lot of flowers. I stand and admire it until I become aware of his presence behind me.
“Are you finding everything okay?” he asks. I can tell he’s trying to be nice, but I’m not in the mood for his hot and cold temperament.
“Do I have a choice?” I ask, crossing my arms.
He walks to the garden furniture near some potted flowers and sits down.
“Look, we can at least be civil since we’re stuck with each other, okay?” he sits back and sets his hand down on the table. Suddenly he springs up shouting, “Fuck!”
I jump back in fright. “What is it?” I ask, my anger forgotten and concern in my voice. I go over to him immediately and look at his hand. I see a bee, and its stinger is still stuck in his hand.
“Oh, that shit hurts,” I say. “Come on. I’ve got a tweezer to get it out.”
He follows me upstairs, and I get my tweezer out, turning around to look at his hand again. I frown. “Is it swelling up?”
“It hurts like a fucker,” he says, sweat beading his brow.
“Are you allergic?” I ask, wide-eyed.
He stares at me as though I’m mad and then coughs slightly. “My chest feels tight, Jesus. I think I am allergic. I’ve never been stung before.”
I take his hand and quickly pull the stinger out, wrapping it in a hand towel. “We need to get you to the emergency room.”
I hurry him downstairs, and I can hear his breathing getting labored. Luckily, I know of a hospital not far away because we drove by. We throw ourselves into the car, and I floor it. I scream at the guards to open the gate, and once they do, I rush into traffic, hazard lights on. I hoot as I weave in and out of traffic as fast as I can. It takes about ten minutes to reach the emergency room, and once there, I can hear he’s really struggling to breathe.
I get him out of the car and hurry him into the emergency waiting room. “Please, someone help!” I yell. “He’s been stung, and he’s allergic.”
Some nurses rush to us and usher him off while one nurse takes me to the front desk to complete some forms. I stare at the forms as if they come from another plant.
“I…uh…don’t know him that well,” I admit to the nurse, who gives me a rather judgmental look. I frown at her. “We only met recently. He was…visiting when he got stung by a bee.”
She takes the clipboard from me. “He’ll have to fill it out before he leaves then. You can take a seat, and someone will come to get you once he’s in the clear.”
I wait anxiously, sitting on the edge of the seat. Every time someone walks out from the ICU area, I look up hopefully. Oh God, I hope he didn’t die. That would complicate my current situation, and I’d also feel terrible because I’ve been such a bitch to him.
I eventually pick up a magazine and try to read it while I wait. Then I go through another. On the third one, a doctor comes out. “Is anyone here for Dominic Sorvino?”
“I am.” I jump up and hurry to him. “Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’ll be fine. He will need to carry an EpiPen with him going forward in case it happens again. We’ve issued three to him in the meantime. He has to stay for observation for an hour or so, but then you can take him home. He’s a bit groggy, but he should be fine. The nurse will take you to him.” The doctor smiles and heads off to his next patient, and I follow the nurse to a bed where Dominic is resting, looking a bit drunk.
I smile at him. “Hey, you look terrible.”
“I feel terrible,” he slurs, bobbing his head from side to side.
“Did you fill in the forms?” I ask.
“I spoke, a nurse wrote,” he says. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
In anticipation, I move my seat a little bit away from the bed, but he simply sways his head from side to side. “It hurts like a bitch. Look how swollen I am.”
He holds his hand up, and it does look terrible. I feel bad for him and give him a reassuring smile. “It’s karma. You were a dick to me, and this is how the universe paid you back.”
“I am a dick; I won’t deny it.” he grins at me, and I swear his eyes are cross-eyed. He rests back and closes his eyes, so I say, “Rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay,” he mumbles. “Thanks.” He starts snoring shortly after that.
I sit there for an hour and a half before he wakes up again. He snorts as he wakes up and looks around, wincing. “My hand is so sore,” he groans. “This is some next-level bullshit.”
I smile and stand up. “Well, let’s get home, and I’ll make you something to eat. Food always makes me feel better.”
He grumbles, but he gets up, staggering a little. I grab the little packet marked for his attention with his EpiPens and painkillers and help him back to the car. There’s a ticket on the window because I didn’t move it, but I don’t care. It’s not my car. I help him into the passenger side before I go to the other side and climb in.
We drive in silence as I join traffic, making the quick trip home and stopping outside the gate. The guard comes to see who is in the car and then nods, opening the gate.
I help Dominic into the house, and he grumbles, “I think I’m just going to take some painkillers and go to bed.”
“Okay, that’s fine. Did the doctor check out your other injuries?”
Dominic nods. “Just bruising. The painkillers will help.”
“All right, I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, handing his medication to him in his good hand.
After a few missteps, I help him up the stairs and to his room, then leave him there. I’m not undressing the guy and getting him in bed.
I go back to my room and flop onto my bed with a sigh.