Chapter 8 - Dante’s One Rule: Stay Where I Can See You
Dante canceled the wedding.
His sister Isabella refused.
Sophia liked her immediately.
“No.”
Isabella Moretti stood in Dante’s dining room wearing jeans, no makeup and the expression of someone who had spent thirty years surviving an older brother.
“Bella.”
“No.”
“There is a security threat.”
“There is always a security threat.”
“This one is credible.”
“Then improve security.”
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose.
Sophia watched with fascination.
Chicago’s coldest mafia boss apparently had one natural predator.
His younger sister.
Isabella noticed Sophia.
“And you must be Poster Girl.”
Sophia nearly inhaled her coffee.
Dante closed his eyes.
“Bella.”
“What? Everyone knows.”
Sophia stared at him.
“Everyone?”
Dante looked away.
Isabella grinned.
“Not everyone. Just Luca, me, two security guys and probably half the internet by tomorrow.”
Sophia wanted to disappear.
Dante glared at his sister.
“Focus.”
Eventually, the wedding remained scheduled.
Security tripled.
Guest lists were reviewed.
Every vendor underwent background checks.
Sophia volunteered to help.
Dante refused.
They argued for twelve minutes.
Sophia won.
Technically, Isabella overruled him.
Dante responded by issuing one rule.
“You stay where I can see you.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow.
“All day?”
“Yes.”
“That's deeply impractical.”
“Deal with it.”
The wedding rehearsal took place in a magnificent downtown hotel ballroom.
Sophia worked near the stage.
Dante remained within sight.
Whenever she moved, his attention followed.
It should have felt controlling.
Instead, Sophia found herself strangely aware of him.
Too aware.
By evening they had checked nearly everything.
One problem remained.
A catering company had replaced three servers at the last minute.
Luca investigated.
All records looked legitimate.
Sophia examined the employee photos.
Something bothered her.
Then she realized.
One server appeared in a picture from the foundation gala.
Not as staff.
As Vincent Rizzo’s driver.
She showed Dante.
His expression hardened.
The man was detained quietly.
Inside his locker, security found cloned access cards.
Sophia sat down slowly.
“So Damian told the truth.”
“About this.”
“You still don't trust him.”
“No.”
“Do you trust anyone?”
Dante looked at her.
The answer existed between them before he spoke.
“You.”
Sophia stopped breathing for half a second.
“That seems unwise.”
“Probably.”
He sat beside her.
Around them, workers decorated the ballroom.
For once, nobody was watching them.
Dante’s voice lowered.
“I have spent my entire life learning not to give people leverage.”
“And now?”
“Now there’s you.”
Sophia's pulse jumped.
“That sounds disturbingly romantic for a security assessment.”
“I didn't intend it to.”
“Too late.”
His gaze dropped toward her mouth.
The moment shifted.
Sophia became acutely aware of how close they were.
Dante raised one hand slowly.
Giving her time to move.
She didn’t.
His fingers touched a loose strand of hair near her cheek.
Then Luca appeared.
“We have a problem.”
Dante’s hand dropped.
Sophia exhaled.
“What kind?”
Luca handed Dante a phone.
A video was playing.
Sophia kissing the poster.
But this version continued longer than the photograph.
It captured Dante entering.
Their conversation.
“It didn’t kiss back.”
His laugh.
Everything.
The video had been uploaded online.
Already hundreds of thousands of views.
The headline read:
Mafia Boss’s Employee Caught Kissing His Poster—Is She More Than Staff?
Sophia went pale.
“This can't be happening.”
Dante scrolled.
Comments multiplied.
Some amused.
Some cruel.
Some calling her desperate.
Others attacking her appearance.
One sentence caught Sophia's eye.
Of course a woman like that has to kiss cardboard.
She handed the phone back.
“I’m going home.”
Dante stood.
“Sophia.”
“I said I'm going home.”
“You didn't do anything wrong.”
“I kissed my employer’s poster.”
“That is admittedly difficult to defend.”
She stared at him.
Then, despite wanting to cry, she laughed.
Dante smiled.
But his expression quickly changed.
“Don't read the comments.”
“Easy for you.”
“No.”
His voice became serious.
“I've spent fifteen years being called things online that would make those comments look affectionate.”
“Does it stop hurting?”
Dante considered the question.
“No.”
Her eyes met his.
“But you learn whose opinion matters.”
Sophia swallowed.
“And whose opinion matters to you?”
Dante looked at her for a long moment.
“Yours.”
Before Sophia could respond, dozens of reporters began gathering outside the hotel.
The story was spreading.
And buried among thousands of jokes and gossip was another post.
An anonymous account uploaded a photograph of Sophia leaving the Wisconsin lake house with Dante.
The caption contained only one sentence.
Ask Sophia Bennett what her father stole from the Moretti family.
The story was no longer embarrassing.
It had become dangerous.
May you like
And by morning, the entire city would know her name.
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