Bred In Violence (A Mafia Romance Book One) #𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏

Chapter 53

Some of the most beautiful things we have in life come from our mistakes.
~ Surgeo Bell~

*Sophie*

It's was more than settling still to realize that the man I loved was as revered as he was feared.

Sitting next to these men gave me another glimpse of who Raphael was, how he was perceived within the inner circle of the mafia.

These men did not touch me. They addressed me with respect; they asked whether I would be comfortable sitting at the back seat or the front next to the driver.

Though one of them did not talk to me, his demeanor spoke of a man who was afraid of saying something wrong. He avoided speaking to me as much as he avoided having to sit next to me.

Stefano's home was a big dark house with a tower. It was located in a vast land, fenced within a huge wall isolating it from the world. The irony was, it was the only house in that area. In fact, I did not see any other house as the car that was driving me entered through the electric gate, bringing me to one of the horrendous houses I had ever seen.

Immediately the car came to a stop; I saw a short, stout man standing outside the front door, his hands at the back and a splitting smile that did not reach his eyes. He wore white slacks, a flannel shirt, and sandals, an entire world of opposite from how Raphael dressed.

"Welcome to my home Sofia," he said, holding out his hand to me as I moved towards him.

"Please call me Sophie," I said in an uncompromising voice but with a smile. If I had met him before Raphael, I would have been scared to the point of swooning or shaking like a leaf in the wind or rain, but I had gone through shit to be there. I had been kidnapped, almost raped, run through undeveloped territory in a foreign country, and shot a woman. I sure as hell wasn't about to allow this man to use the Italian version of my name just because he thought he could.

That was a privilege given to a few. Not every tom, dick, and harry.

We stared at each other for a while; of course, I was the first to blink and move my eyes around my surrounding. I knew that I couldn't win a staring competition with a mafia don, but I tried.

He stared at me a while longer until it started bothering me. I started to panic; my hand, which was still in his large one, shook, and that is when he released it, smiling knowingly, and unease filled my whole being. But then I remembered Raphael saying I would be fine here; nothing would happen to me, which calmed me a little.

"Sophie, it is." He acceded "Follow me" He led me to a huge dining room with nothing but chairs and a table. If this house was a reflection of who he was, then he must have been very unhappy and dull. The house was dark, the windows were small, and the curtains were still drawn even though it was few hours to 7 pm, which probably meant they remained closed all day, every day.

It had a feel of death. Like death resided there. The darkness itself manifested both physically and figuratively. I didn't want to stay there longer than I should; in fact, if I had a choice, I wouldn't have stayed; but I did not have a choice.

"Sit," he commanded. I sat, taking care not to brush my dirty clothes on his white attire. He stood on my left as he motioned someone with his hand. A woman my age entered carrying a tray of food.

She spared me a single glance before placing the food on the table, then proceeded to serve me a morsel of every dish available on the tray.

Sitting at that table, in a home I knew nothing about, with people I didn't know and had never met, watching a young unsmiling and most probably unhappy woman serving my food, I realized I was lucky.