Mafia's Obsession

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"It's a bad idea," his father muttered, taking a long gulp from his drink, his eyes not leaving Sophia.
Luciano didn't respond at first. His jaw clenched, the storm brewing inside him showing only in the way he tensed, his fists clenching momentarily before he relaxed them.
"I know," Luciano finally said, his voice low, barely audible, but loaded with the weight of everything left unsaid.
His father turned slightly, now facing Luciano fully, his eyes hard with a mixture of concern and warning. "Getting someone into our world is never a good idea," he continued, his tone more stern. "Better to get a woman from our world, someone who understands the risks, the sacrifice."
Luciano's gaze never wavered from Sophia. She was laughing politely at something someone had said, her soft waves falling gracefully over her shoulders, the wrap she'd hastily draped over herself doing little to hide the evidence of their earlier encounter. Her beauty was undeniable, but it was more than that. She was a pull he couldn't resist, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.
"You lead the most powerful Mafia in the world, Luciano," his father's voice cut through his thoughts like a sharp blade. "I retired for a reason. You can't afford stupid decisions. Not now."
Luciano's jaw tightened again. He knew his father was right. Every part of him was aware of the risks. Sophia didn't belong to this world—the darkness, the danger, the constant threat of enemies lurking around every corner. But how could he walk away from her? That he didn't feel something deeper every time he looked at her?
"Better to let her go now before it's too late," his father added, his voice carrying a finality that only came with age and experience. "Before she becomes a weakness."
Luciano's eyes flashed with a dark intensity, one his father knew all too well. He wasn't ready to admit it, but the choice had already been made. He just couldn't say it aloud.
Luciano glanced at his father. "You think I don't know what I'm risking? But it's not that simple."
His father sighed, taking another long sip from his drink. "It never is. But that doesn't mean it's worth it."
Luciano fell silent, his gaze once again drifting back to Sophia, who was still unaware of the internal battle raging inside him. He could feel his father's words hanging heavily in the air between them, but for the first time in a long while, Luciano wasn't sure he cared.
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The next day, Sophia woke up groggy, her mind still foggy from the events of the previous night. Rubbing her eyes, she staggered out of bed and caught her reflection in the mirror. Evidence of yesterday's passion marked her neck and chest, a vivid reminder of the kiss shared with Luciano. Memories flooded back—Luciano's touch, his commanding presence at the masquerade ball, and then his abrupt departure without another word.
In an attempt to clear her mind, Sophia stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her, washing away not just the physical marks but also trying to cleanse her thoughts of Luciano. After dressing, she headed to the café where she busied herself with work, meticulously organising supplies, checking inventory, and attending to customers. Despite her efforts, her thoughts kept drifting back to the previous night, replaying every detail, every touch.
Antony's absence at the café didn't go unnoticed. His avoidance mirrored Luciano's, adding to Sophia's frustration. He was avoiding her again wasn't he? She chastised herself for allowing last night to happen, berating herself for believing there could be something more. Was she just another conquest for Luciano, a pawn in his game? How stupid could she have been letting herself get lost in the moment.
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Night fell, and Sophia returned home, her mind still preoccupied. She changed into comfortable yet smart attire and joined her parents for dinner. Despite their attempts at conversation, Sophia's appetite had vanished. She pushed food around her plate, offering weak excuses to her concerned mother.
"Sophia, you barely touched your food," her mother remarked, worry etched on her face.
"I had a big lunch, Mum. I'm just not very hungry tonight," Sophia replied, her voice strained with the effort of appearing normal.
After dinner, Sophia retreated to her room. She scrolled through her phone, replying absentmindedly to messages from friends. As she settled into bed, exhaustion weighed heavily on her, and she closed her eyes, ready to sleep.
Suddenly, a noise from her large, grand windows jolted her awake. Sophia's heart raced as she saw a shadowy figure climbing through the window into her bedroom. Panic surged through her, and she screamed at the top of her lungs.
"Thief! Help!" Sophia's cry echoed through the quiet house.
The intruder moved swiftly, covering her mouth with one hand and pinning her down onto the bed with the other, their weight pressing her down. Fear gripped Sophia as she struggled against the intruder's hold.
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