First book for 'The Game's' series!
Sofia Garcia, also known as the assassin Raven, has always had a messy life then it gets messier when she goes to a dance and accidentally- (on purpose) kisses the most dangerous mafia boss only to end up in a spi...
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Waking up with Sofia in my arms is the best feeling. I want to stay like this forever. Her head is on my bare chest and her leg swung over mine. Her eyes are shut, and her soft breathing fills the atmosphere of the room. My eyes drift to her lips. Pink and fluff. My addiction.
There still partly swollen from yesterday and there are a few faded bite marks on her lips. All my doing.
"No feelings right?" Sofia's voice snaps me back to reality by replaying my words from yesterday.
"Yeah." I roll my eyes and get up.
Sofia revealed she isn't against trying this marriage out as a real couple. I'm against this idea though as I'm not interested in romantic relationships, never have, never will. Plus I don't even like Sofia in any way. She's just an annoyance in my life.
I walk into the bathroom and grab my brush. I can see Sofia sleepily get out of bed with a stretch and make her way to the bathroom.
"Morning." She grunts and hops on the counter. She grabs her brush still facing me and starts brushing.
She looks stunning even if she just woke up. Hey, lush eyelashes look up at me with her usual questioning expression. Her usually brownish hazel eyes are lighter in the mornings, making them look more green. Her face is lively yet tired.
"Hey." I turn around trying to avoid eye contact.
I can see that Sofia is still grappling with her feelings, the remnants of frustration and disappointment etched across her face. Yesterday's conversation took a turn that clearly left a mark on her, as her eyes betray the facade she tries to maintain. They glimmer with unshed emotions, revealing her annoyance at my refusal to embrace what she calls a "normal" relationship.
"Respectfully, Ales," she scoffs, crossing her arms defiantly, "I don't understand why you're the one who's mad when you basically turned me down."
As I step out of the bathroom, I let out a disgruntled sigh. "I didn't reject you," I murmur, trying to keep the irritation at bay.
She raises an eyebrow, a flicker of resolve igniting in her expression. "I know, but just so you know, I won't give up trying."
Deep down, I know she won't back down easily.
I make my way to the kitchen, my feet moving in a rhythm of resignation as I begin to prepare French toast. The sweet aroma of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air, even though I can't stand the cloying taste of French toast—too sugary, much like most of Sofia's preferred meals. It's a simple enough task, yet it takes longer than usual, the unfamiliarity of the process reminding me that I haven't made it in a while. But I push through, all for her. The things I do for this woman are endless, and despite my reluctance, a part of me finds solace in making her happy.
"And yet, to still deny your feelings." The voice cuts through the silence like a knife, and I nearly jump in surprise. Emerging from the depths of the shadows, Sofia steps into the dim light, her presence both unexpected and unwelcome.
